Waking up on Saturday, I knew plenty of questions would be answered. Would I get any runs? Would Histon beat March? How would Day 2 in Barbados pan out? Would Derby secure a place in the play-offs? Would Chelsea seal the title? Would Floyd Mayweather or Manny Pacquiao win the Fight of the Century? Could I stay awake long enough to find out?

(Answers: 17, yes, dramatically, no, yes, Floyd Mayweather, yes)

I did stay awake, and there were further questions along the way. Would Stuart Bingham or Judd Trump prevail in the deciding frame of the second snooker semi-final? And, most unforeseen, would the LA Clippers or the San Antonio Spurs win the deciding first-round play-off game? Along with England’s dramatic collapse to 39-5, these two contests, in their contrasting ways, were glorious examples of how sport can rival any other part of life for pure drama. It’s a kind of timeless drama, cutting away all the contemporary commercial ball-baggery to the very essence of competition.

By contrast, the boxing, bar the fourth round, was never competitive or dramatic, was never timeless. In fact, it was very much an event for our times. Perhaps boxing, more than any other sport, often is. It certainly held up a mirror to elite level football. Paying over the top for an overhyped event at an inconvenient time should sound familiar to Arsenal fans who, at the time of writing, are at the KC Stadium in Hull.

The nature of Mayweather’s comprehensive win also reflected the tedious debate over whether Chelsea are boring. Chelsea aren’t boring. The league is boring. The competition is boring. Likewise, Mayweather isn’t boring. He’s pragmatic and defensive, but there is skill and art in that, just as in any team containing Cesc Fabregas and Edin Hazard. It’s not Jose Mourinho’s fault that his rivals would probably benefit from any of his back six – Thibaut Courtois, Branislav Ivanovic, Cesar Azpilicueta, John Terry, Gary Cahill and Nemanja Matic. Likewise, it’s not Mayweather’s fault if he has an advantage in height and reach – not to mention breathtaking skill in the art of evasion. Sure, Chelsea, like all Mourinho teams, can clinch and cover-up when needed, but that’s the point – sport is about winning, and winning sometimes requires it. Why not win without getting hit in the face too often? Attack isn’t always the best form of defence.

Pragmatism and defence in the ring, and on the pitch, is all part of the game, but Mayweather’s defence went up years before this fight. Mayweather might not have won five years ago. Pacquiao in his prime – a locust storm of attacking punches, as fast as he was relentless – would have given Mayweather a game. Pacquiao wanted it, the fans wanted it. Mayweather didn’t. Unlike Chelsea, who could only beat what was in front of them, Mayweather, while still making shed-loads of money and maintaining his unbeaten record, could choose when to put Pacquiao in front of him. It’s like England waiting to play Australia until Shane Warne had retired. It’s just not cricket. But it is boxing.

For all that I had a great night on Saturday, and the fight was quite intriguing, I can’t help feeling cheated. Five years ago, it might have had a chance of living up to the hype. Mayweather is undoubtedly an excellent boxer – an unbeaten record attests to that – but he’ll never be loved. Of course, much of that is down to wife-beating and money-loving, is down to a defensive style, but it’s hard to love a man who claims of being TBE (The Best Ever) when he has never been involved in any great fights. This so-called Fight of the Century certainly wasn’t a great fight – incomparable to Ali-Foreman or even Benn-Eubank – but it could have been. It should have been. Instead, Pacquiao, looking old and a weight division light, couldn’t get near Mayweather. Out of the ring, it was ever thus. Inside, we have been deprived of ever knowing how Mayweather’s undoubted skill would have dealt with prime Pacquiao. Boxing, like much of elite level sport, is obscenely rich, but as a competition it has never been poorer.