For our our next trick, how about the FA Cup final at Giants Stadium? Soulless. Never mind.

Then the Wimbledon finals on the good old hard courts of Flushing Meadows? 

The Open? What holes in golf could be more challenging than than the First to Eighteenth Streets in Manhattan? No soft landings there.

What about The Ashes? Where better for the Poms and the Okkers to dispute the Ashes than Yankee Stadium?

I could go on.

The selection of New York’s Madison Square Garden for the longest awaited boxing match in UK ring history was not exactly a surprise. Wembley Stadium had given up on the Gypsy King v AJ weeks ago.

Where better for the last hurrah for two grand old British warhorses than Madison Square Garden? Even if that nostalgic mausoleum is not exactly the most sentimental last resting place for two lions of our own.

We sell our history at our peril.

But for Nett-Profit-Flix? And to the oil-mongers?

I am all for the men in gloves who put their lives on the line between the ropes making the most money they can for themselves and the generational future of their families.

But neither Tyson Fury nor Anthony Joshua are short of a few bucks and the fans who made them are forgotten in this sell-out. Even if they manage to prop open their eyelids with matchsticks into the early hours of a dank winter morning.

Many of the faithful will do so. Especially those who have been imploring Joshua and and Fury to get it on for a couple of decades.

Tyson Fury and Anthony Joshua look set to finally battle it out on November 20

Madison Square Garden in New York City is expected to host the heavyweight bout

The sad part, even though we will all be drawn to it like curious cats, is that they have missed their moment in time

No world title on the line. Historically beyond its time.

Delayed by all those involved in case one heavyweight or the other got knocked off his perch of public admiration and corporate income before they fought each other.

That obsession was exposed as nonsense by Oleksandr Usyk and Daniel Dubois.

So overpowering is the scent of nostalgia in this most compelling of sports that we still want to see what happens when two of our national heroes collide.

Hundreds if not thousands of Brits will spend their last pennies on going to New York to bear witness to this last rite for two of their heroes.

They are worth more, much more than Big Daddy Netflix and Uncle Saudi.

Meanwhile, the British Croquet Association beware.