Dylan Moran has walked away from his career as a professional boxer and he won’t look back.

Moran, a southpaw from Waterford, Ireland, lost his rematch with Belfast, Northern Ireland’s Tyrone McKenna last month when he was stopped in seven rounds, and the 30-year-old has retired with a 19-4 (9 KOs) record.

Moran was hospitalized after the McKenna fight and survived some desperate moments in the aftermath of the fight.

“I have zero memory of the fight,” Moran told BoxingScene. “My first memory starts with the doctors afterwards, and I remember before the fight, I remember being in the dressing room, the music playing and that – and there’s one jab, funnily enough, that I remember throwing in the fight and that’s it.”

The jab landed – “It was beautiful,” Moran said – but despite his efforts to claw back memories, he has been unable to.

He has not watched the fight back, either. 

“I’m still not a hundred per cent,” he continued. “So watching back the fight was the least of my priorities, to be honest. And also given what happened, you lost and the circumstances that came with it, it has to be all right with you before you watch it back.”

Moran recalls, after the fight, telling the doctors in the dressing room he was fine but knowing something wasn’t right. Then, after the medics left, Moran turned to manager Neil Power and said: “Bro, my head isn’t right. I’ve got a really bad pain in my head, probably worse than I’ve ever had before.”

He continued: “It was really, really bad, the pain where you know something is wrong, and Neil goes, ‘Dylan, I need to get the doctors back.’ And from there, when the doctors kind of came into play and started asking me the most basic questions that I couldn't give him the answer to, I realized there was something horribly wrong. Next minute, I’m in the back waiting room, they’re calling ambulances and it was just an absolutely horrible experience, if I’m being honest.”

Moran has partial memories of what happened next.

“And none of them are nice,” he said. “A lot of them is really realizing what’s going on, but I remember being asked the most basic questions and I couldn’t give him the answer, and being frustrated that I couldn’t. I'm like, ‘Why can’t I answer these?’ And the other moment was when they turned the lights on in the ambulance. We all know when the lights go on, there’s trouble. And my little brother was at the end of the ambulance. And I don’t ever want to experience that again. What I actually thought in that moment, if I’m being honest, was ‘Is this it?’ ‘Have I fucked it?’ You know, there’s no going back. It was just [so] horrible that my stomach is turning out thinking of it.”

Moran has had concussions before, when he has felt unwell and been bed-bound for as many as three days. This time, it was so bad he hoped that’s all it was. It wasn’t. It was more than that. Fragments of blood were found on his brain.

“And even hearing that, it was absolutely terrifying,” he said. “’There’s a non-active bleed on your brain. We need to keep you here for observation.’”

Moran couldn’t believe what was happening.

“An hour and a half previous, you’re living the dream, heading out for the biggest fight of your life, and next thing you turn up on the hospital bed, just me and my little brother in the back room with some hospital in Belfast. It wasn’t a nice experience.”

It troubled Moran to the extent that he won’t even entertain taking any more head trauma. He won’t explore windows of licensing other athletes might scurry toward.

He spent time in the Royal Victoria hospital, but still, defiantly, he wanted to move on. Despite receiving advice to stay in for observation, he signed himself out because he wanted to go home. That was a mistake. 

In the car from Dublin, Moran kept vomiting. A doctor was called, and he was advised to go straight to the Beaumont Hospital in Dublin, which has a speciality head unit.

Moran’s girlfriend took him there, and he was given medication to stop the sickness. He had scans taken. A cavity had opened in his brain that should have been closed, and he was told he should not fight again. By that point, he didn’t need to be told.

“I had already made that decision, from the experience of the 12 hours previous,” Moran said. “I’ve always been very health-conscious of the game I’m involved in. I know the risks that we all face every time we step in the ring, and the age-old tale with boxing is that fellas hang around too long. And I was never going to be one of those guys. And being honest, listen, it takes balls to box. But it takes balls to walk away – even bigger balls. With time, everything changes. My priorities in life have changed. You mature a lot. I’m watching my brother there. I watched my girlfriend there. My mom and dad are in bits on the phone. And I’m like, it goes past sport when stuff like this is happening.”

Moran also did not need a reminder served about how dangerous the sport is. In February, Moran’s friend John Cooney lost his life following a fight in Belfast against Nathan Howells.

“I couldn’t help but think of him every second of the way,” said Moran. “And it happened in Belfast and all. And I was like, ‘Is this the second coming of the same accident?’ And it was terrifying. It was absolutely terrifying. And I promised myself, if I come out of this in working order, I’m finished.”

And although he bows out on a second loss to rival McKenna, Moran is satisfied with what boxing has done for him.

Although he was on the wrong end of the two-round two-way war with McKenna last December, the bout was a wild thriller on ProBox TV and came in front of Moran’s own fans. That was the type of night he had always wanted.

“That's partly the reason why I took the rematch. I was like, you know, given what the first time was, we’ve got to do that again,” Moran said, smiling at the recollection of the War in Waterford. 

“And do you know what? I’m proud of that, to be honest, just when I seen that name being put on it. I remember getting home to the room in my house that night, thinking, ‘Did that just happen?’ It was over so quick. Like, my whole game plan went out the window. It never worked. But funnily enough, I’ve been a fan of Tyrone’s for years. I’ve watched him for many years and I always knew, I said me and him in the ring will be a great fight. And lo and behold, many years later, that’s exactly what happened. It could have been anyone’s; it was a proper shootout and somebody had to go down. Unfortunately, it was me. But a hundred per cent, that fight could have been anyone’s. I've watched it numerous times and at multiple stages. You didn’t know who to put your money on.”

That was not Moran’s night, but it was still an experience he will remember with affection, along with the rest of his career.

“I’ve traveled all around the world,” he said. “I lived on my own out of a gear bag for many years, all with the hope of a big night at my home city, because I always knew it was possible. I get great support there and whatnot. And it happened. And after [McKenna I], for the first time ever, I found myself saying, like, ‘Well, why am I going back to the gym for?’ I didn’t know why I was going back training. And I made myself. I had to find a reason.

“And the only reason I would have went back to the gym was for a rematch with Tyrone, given what the first fight was. I said that to Jamie Conlan and Neil Power, and out of the blue, the rematch was on the table and I jumped all over it.”

Now, however, it is time for the next chapter.

“More than happy,” Moran said of moving on. “I’ll tell you why: When I started all of this many years ago, I said I want a big show in Waterford and I want to be involved in big domestic fights.

“And it was all about Waterford City and Ireland. I didn’t really care about anywhere else. Big domestics and a show in Waterford.

“Since then, my career has gone from Ireland to America, Liechtenstein, Austria, Germany, Manchester, [Conor] McGregor to Jake Paul, to the whole lot. And in the last 18 months, I got exactly what I wanted. So, absolutely zero regrets. I’m just so blessed to get out of it, one piece. I faced them risks in every fight I’ve ever had, but to face it at the end and come out of it the other side, I’m very grateful for that.”

Tris Dixon covered his first amateur boxing fight in 1996. The former editor of Boxing News, he has written for a number of international publications and newspapers, including GQ and Men’s Health, and is a board member for the Ringside Charitable Trust and the Ring of Brotherhood. He has been a broadcaster for TNT Sports and hosts the popular “Boxing Life Stories” podcast. Dixon is a British Boxing Hall of Famer, an International Boxing Hall of Fame elector, is on The Ring ratings panel and is the author of five boxing books, including “Damage: The Untold Story of Brain Trauma in Boxing” (shortlisted for the William Hill Sportsbook of the Year), “Warrior: A Champion’s Search for His Identity” (shortlisted for the Sunday Times International Sportsbook of the Year) and “The Road to Nowhere: A Journey Through Boxing’s Wastelands.” You can reach him @trisdixon on X and Instagram.