Anthony Joshua is the heavyweight champion of the world.

Anthony Joshua is the heavyweight champion of the world.

Anthony Joshua is the heavyweight champion of the world. Now how does that sound? Surely it's music to the ears, gloriously reminiscent of those fabulous Rocky movies where Sylvester Stallone, eyes blackened and bloody, would emerge heroically from those epic prizefights with rags to riches victories against Apollo Creed. And guess what. Joshua is British, British as steak and kidney pie and red post boxes.

After 12 gruelling, punishing, stamina sapping rounds the man from London has brought back the world heavyweight boxing title of the world to Britain. Your mind briefly travels back to those pugilistic bruisers from yesteryear, two golden periods for British boxing when the lovable Frank Bruno and Lennox Lewis both busted a gut and did their utmost to bring back the world heavyweight title for Britian.

But for Anthony Joshua, this was an utterly convincing, tormentingly concussive, percussive, rat a tat tat victory where the waiting game proved the most ingenious boxing technique of all time. This was a hard fought but conclusive victory for Joshua who is slowly developing into one of the most intelligent and robust fighters Britain has produced for some time. There was a point during the fight when Joshua was so far ahead on points that the referee must have felt tempted to throw a towel into the ring.

And yet amid the sand dunes of Saudi Arabia this was boxing of the most remarkable quality, a fight that often resembled a cerebral game of chess with no fighter prepared to give an inch. Joshua, for his part, came dancing out of his corner rather like the immortal Muhammad Ali and promptly ground down his opponent as if  it were just another day at the office.

Boxing has often revelled in those thrilling, hard punching encounters where both men are frequently sent crashing to the canvas with seemingly destructive knock outs. This though was refreshingly different. This went the 12 round distance and Joshua got it absolutely right. It felt as if this fight had been planned in a very cool, premeditated fashion. There were no calculated gambles on the night from Joshua, just a carefully constructed sequence of mind games where Andy Ruiz Junior could only flick out the occasional burst of vaguely illegal body shots that landed somewhere in outer space.

From the very first round Joshua set out his stall, skipping, teasing, bouncing, bobbing, always in command, eternally confident, knowing fully well that it was Ruiz Junior who had to come out and genuinely take the fight to him. After a spell of cautious, tentative jabbing from Joshua, you could sense that Ruiz was there for the taking if Joshua had felt so inclined. But the Londoner was here for the duration and the jabs kept connecting with uplifting frequency.

The tone of the fight had been set by Joshua from the off. The opening rounds were spent by AJ carefully choosing his moments of savagery, measuring his jabs with pin point precision and then delivering the barrage of hooks that from time to time left Ruiz Junior questioning his own tactics. From here onwards this would become one of those mind blowing if attritional fights where the superior fighter knows he's going to win but doesn't quite know when.

By rounds six, seven, eight and nine Joshua continued to give the impression of a man who just wanted to dance the night away, wearing his opponent into the ground with a demoralising intensity. Every time the Joshua jab and, ultimately, hook, rocked the head of Luiz Junior back with a frightening crunch, we knew there could only be one outcome to this world heavyweight bout of bouts.

Then there were the last three rounds of this clubbing, pummelling, blood and thunder contest with both men showing the ravages of  early round eye injuries. Joshua should and perhaps could have delivered that classic hammer blow. Both men were now locking horns with each other, brawling, grappling and picking out the incisive moment when one would shortly be seeing stars.

With the arrival of round 12 Ruiz, although occasionally suggesting that he might have the necessary mental resources to hit back at Joshua, didn't really know where Joshua's weak spot was. So it was that Joshua kept on jiving and twisting the night away, now staring menacingly at Ruiz Junior and mortally offended that anybody should dare to challenge his supremacy.

The bell rang and although this was no 'Good Night Vienna' for either fighter the 'Clash of the Dunes' had satisfied the appetite of all the most discerning of boxing aficionadoes. Anthony Joshua had made British sport smile again when the anti climax of England's rugby union World Cup Final defeat to South Africa might have left all of us slightly miserable and despondent. British boxing will cherish nights like this because we all need to know that the bulldog spirit is alive and well. For Sly Stallone read Anthony Joshua. What a fight! What a night!