Jealousy is a curse that seems to rear its head higher in the sports world than any other and Joe Calzaghe is its latest victim.

On Saturday, Calzaghe defeated one of the greatest pound-for-pound boxers of his generation in Bernard Hopkins, but immediately found a green-eyed monster harder to conquer.

It mattered little that in Las Vegas, the hardened hacks of America's boxing press, who need no encouragement to send any British or European pretender back over the pond with his tail between his legs and with derision ringing in his ears, were queuing up to laud Wales' greatest ever pugilist.

Because back in Britain, the internet snipers were ready to take aim, using the Argus website as a forum for their small-minded poison.

Attention grabbing vitriol, worth acknowledging here simply to underline the ever so British mentality of knocking success. How very typical.

It is easy for reality to become blurred in the most bloody and brutal of sports, a world where truth and reason are regularly sent retreating into the corner.

However, one thing that does not lie or cheat is the lineal championship - the accolade awarded to a champion who transcends the meaningless alphabet straps and political nonsense that plague the sport of boxing - and which now sees Calzaghe standing proudly atop two weight divisions.

It may be the truest test of greatness in any boxing division, untainted as it is by the vice-like grip of monetary factors that have divided the sport into countless belts, meaningless titles and fractiousness between warring promoters.

After two decades of dedication and determination, Calzaghe sits unanimously as one of the finest pound-for-pound fighters on the planet, a subjective endorsement that means everything to the men who ply their trade in jabs and hooks.

There are no longer words of scorn across the Atlantic fired at Calzaghe, or his father Enzo, as they make their triumphant return to their cherished Principality.

"After 11 years of being on the outside looking in, Joe Calzaghe can call the shots," said J. Michael Falgoust of USA TODAY.

"Hopkins was recognized as the world's best light heavyweight through boxing lineage because of his 2006 victory against Antonio Tarver.

"Calzaghe overwhelmed Hopkins with volume to dictate the pace, making the 43-year-old fight at a much higher tempo than he prefers."

If you'd rather the view of a man who knows first hand just how difficult it is to remain at the pantheon of boxing's red carpet, how about four-weight world champion and potential foe Roy Jones Jnr?

It took just a few missed steps for Jones to slip from his path to immortality while our Joe has maintained a dead-eye focus on re-writing the history books.

"Joe is the best super middleweight in the world, maybe the best ever and now he is the top dog of light heavyweight boxing, no-one can question that," Jones said.

"I was the man, but now the man is Joe Calzaghe,"

The argument of Calzaghe not fighting the best in the world is as futile as Hopkins' desperate racial mind-games.

Our man has beaten everyone in his division, all the while chasing and calling out the names people are now using as a stick to beat him with; the men who would've most tested his supreme, blemish-free record.

If Joe had fought Hopkins five years ago,' the naysayers bleat.

If, buts and maybes. Pointless and infuriating retrospection that carries no more weight than idle daydreams of Newport County signing Ronaldinho and Lionel Messi on route to the Premiership.

The truth is that Calzaghe, dangerous and unheralded in the States, was overlooked time and time again because his Newbridge gym and anti-celebrity persona simply didn't fit into the glitzy world of America, a land with such a sense of self-importance that it labels its baseball finals as a World' Series.

However, the times they are a-changing. Without courting headlines or a higher profile, Calzaghe - without imposing himself as man of the people in the manner of Ricky Hatton - has become box office, a VIP in the most exclusive club of all.

In the next 12 months Calzaghe will be offered celebrity, pay-days and column inches like never before, but it won't change him an iota and he'll be true to his word, retiring at the top of his game.

If we can't appreciate Calzaghe's humility and sheer talent then it is a sad reflection on the never-happier-than-when-moaning British public.

Because still pounding the familiar hills of Newbridge and residing in the back-streets of Blackwood - rather than having his head turned by the bright lights of LA or the back-slapping bastion of London, is a champion and a man for us to all be truly proud of.