Occasionally the prize ring, currently polluted with enough impostors to bring its modern relevance into question, is known to indulge in nostalgia. Come 3am on Sunday morning, boxing will drag itself off the canvas and attempt contemporary art.

Styles make fights. It is pugilism's primary adage. There can be few more compelling contests in recent decades than the one that pits the self-proclaimed Pretty Boy, Floyd Mayweather, against the self-deprecating Ricky Fatton' in the MGM Grand Garden Arena, Las Vegas. Such is the dearth of genuine box-office in a morally bankrupt business, Mayweather's retirement' after his seminal defeat of Oscar De La Hoya lasted a matter of months. It is not so much a comeback as an obligation to the sport that has facilitated a lifestyle of obscene self-indulgence.

De La Hoya, in his new role as the honest face of an historically unscrupulous promotion, has made one of the few legitimately fascinating matches left in a barren sport. Mayweather and Hatton have been reared from backgrounds so contrasting their only similarity is their unbeaten record. It is a classic Good Guy versus Bad Guy.

It is almost impossible to like Mayweather, a man for whom money is the oxygen of his world. He has a conceit that makes Jose Mourinho seem bashful. It is almost impossible to dislike Hatton, a man for whom material wealth is eschewed in favour of homespun values.

Defeating Mayweather would make Hatton the most popular British champion since Frank Bruno won the world heavyweight title at the third attempt, albeit against an emotionally unstable Oliver McCall. For all his posturing, for all his goading, for all his ungraciousness, it is folly to question Mayweather's credentials as the best pound-for-pound fighter in the world.

From his palatial home nestled behind the Las Vegas Strip, Mayweather is the master of all he surveys. The trappings of fame are diamond encrusted. Hatton could not be more down to earth if he lived on Coronation Street.

Raised in the family pub in Hyde, Greater Manchester, Hatton remains a 10-minute drive away from his family despite accumulating enough wealth to buy his old housing estate. His mother, Carol, still works at the carpet stall in the Peak District, while his father, Ray, is his manager in the paternal and not exploitative sense.

Mayweather's fractured family life has necessitated the alter ego that serves as a defence mechanism. He is trained by his uncle, Roger, a source of bitterness to his father, Floyd Snr, who was instrumental in his son's boxing career as much as in the physical abuse that fuels his anger and the technical brilliance instilled, forcefully, from the first time Junior could lace up gloves and take part in the infamous Mayweather family fights.

He will prepare for the fight by counting the wads of cash that serve as constant reminders of his greatness. Hatton will prepare with a full English breakfast.

Mayweather's list of casualties reads like boxing's hall of fame. He has won six world titles at five different weight classes and beaten, with varying degrees of ease, De La Hoya, Zab Judah, Sharmba Mitchell, Arturo Gatti, Jose Luis Castillo (twice), Diego Corrales and Jesus Chavez. Hatton, for all his home-based heroics, has been a latecomer to such class. Only by defeating Kostya Tszyu did he open up a new world of possibility and respectability. A step up to welterweight was not without struggle, his introduction to a curious American audience undermined by two uninspired victories against Luis Collazo and Juan Urango. A return to light-welterweight provided his most emphatic win to date, a fourth-round stoppage of the revered, if battle-weary, Castillo.

The superb 24/7 documentaries shown by Sky Sports and HBO have given a fascinating insight into their polarised journeys and preparations for this epic night. History does not bode well for Hatton. Las Vegas has rarely blessed sluggers from these shores with gambler's luck. Barry McGuigan wilted in the searing heat against Steve Cruz, Bruno came a cropper twice to Tyson, and while Lloyd Honeyghan recorded a memorable win against Don Curry in Atlantic City in 1986 to win the welterweight title, he surrendered it three years later to Marlon Starling at Caesars Palace, Las Vegas.

Hatton defeating Mayweather will not quite be a victory of Randy Turpin proportions but the Hitman must overcome hefty odds against, not to mention a fighter of prodigious skill and hand speed to stand a chance. A return to welterweight brings with it concerns over Hatton's stamina and questions about his punching power at the heavier weight. He will need the performance of his life to end Mayweather's majestic reign. One man's loss will be boxing's gain.

And another thing . . .

RANGERS are perfectly entitled to request the postponement of their league fixture with Gretna in order to maximise their chances of progression in the Champions League. The Scottish Premier League, though, may wish to remind them that they have a reserve of familiar names to take care of domestic matters.

If Roy Carroll, Ugo Ehiogu, Alan Gow, Kirk Broadfoot, Thomas Buffel and Chris Burke can't be relied upon to beat a team already doomed to relegation, they have no chance of salvaging their careers at Ibrox.