When Joseph Heller wrote Catch-22 it appears he had English rugby in mind.
It was always going to end in tears for Lewis Hamilton in his 110th and last race for McLaren.
He may struggle to see it this way as he tends his kind, battered face this morning but there is an unavoidable symmetry to Ricky Hatton's career deeply rooted in the history of boxing: nearly all his pain, physical and spiritual, arrived in a rush at the end.
Jenson Button believes he will benefit from Lewis Hamilton's move to Mercedes, saying it will give him the best chance to win another Formula One world championship.
I really have no idea.
For Ricky Hatton, the fight is over at last. When the excellent former world champion Vyacheslav Senchenko drilled a wicked left deep into Hatton's washboard gut eight seconds from the end of the ninth round here on Saturday night, he left the skeletal shell of a former hero bent double on the canvas for the full count, but the Ukrainian did no more than put a full stop to a sentence that had been drawn out maybe a soundbite too long in recent weeks and months.
There is something fascinating about Nick Compton, England's snazzily thoroughbred right-handed opening batsman, a player who looks, walks, takes guard and in fact does everything in the manner of a suave and stylish right-handed dasher, other than the minor fact of actually batting like one.
In the Red Bull garage on Friday the mechanics, preparing for the two practice sessions, were busier than sailors in a storm, although a storm is the very last thing they want here on Sunday.
Ricky Hatton knows he will need more than the roar of the crowd to relaunch his career against Vyacheslav Senchenko on what will be an unbearably emotional occasion at the Manchester Arena on Saturday night.