Last year, I wrote a series of columns on the theme that sport doesn't get this good this often.
They came as sports seemed to be squaring up to see who could produce the most exciting or even reality-testing conclusions.
There seemed to be more cliff-hangers about than when sport climbing finally gets to debut at the Olympics, probably in four years' time.
Six weeks after Ben Stokes piloted England to a super-over victory in the Cricket World Cup final, he was back at the controls in the skies above Headingley to land an even more unlikely flight.
That Ashes series was one of many which meandered its way towards thrilling draws.
"In a multitude of contests at locations from London to Launceston, adversaries repeatedly found themselves in need of extra-time for some form of resolution," I wrote in September.
"On each occasion it was a clash of the titans: Australia v England, Federer v Djokovic, England v New Zealand, Spain v Australia, Geelong v Richmond and, perhaps most seismic of them all, Kings Meadows v Riverside."
In the words of The 12th Man's Richie Benaud when listening to his contribution to the classic commentary competition, I couldn't agree with myself more.
But beware of that Newton-inspired gravitationally-themed cliche which states that what goes up, must come down.
For sports fans to enjoy such ups, they must also endure the downs.
Welcome to March, 2020. It doesn't get any downer than this.
Global sport is like Monty Python's parrot, it has ceased to be.
All responsible sporting administrations have opted to put their senior competitions on hold - Australia's domestic football codes obviously not falling under that particular description due to their self-exemption from the PM's ban on "non-essential travel".
As a race deprived of our lifeblood, sporting fans are reduced to watching social media clips of a capybara farting in a bath or a visual demonstration of how a bat urinates when it is hanging upside down.
One can only ponder the future of humankind when you see people panic buying toilet rolls and discover that Corona beer is on special at most outlets because buyers genuinely believe it is connected to the virus.
This is what our species reverts to when it is denied basic life essentials like sport.
A world without sport is like a pizza without cheese.
If there is a silver lining to this ever-blackening cloud, it is in Tasmania's location. Has there ever been a better time to be on an island off an island at the end of the Earth?
With apologies to Thomas Hardy, it is hard to get much further from the madding crowd than Tasmania.
So putting aside minor inconveniences such as the fact that Tasmanian taxpayers are now paying the AFL $8 million for, well nothing, it is time to embrace our geographical self-isolation.
As pointed out by my colleague Scott Gelston in The Examiner on Monday, there are numerous walks around the state happy to promote themselves as coronavirus escapes.
I went bushwalking through the Tasmanian wilderness at the weekend and the only other humans I saw in five hours were my two hiking colleagues, and we maintained 1.5 metres separation throughout.
The world may be a dangerous place right now, but there are few safer havens than Tasmania - a fact we should embrace and defend.
Eventually, life and sport will return to normal and we will again get to experience bountiful times like the middle of last year.
After all this madness, we may even appreciate them more.
Alternatively, the other light at the end of the tunnel is that self-imposed isolation presents an ideal opportunity to catch up on some reading, if only there was a reasonably-priced, mildly entertaining book about Tasmanian sport available.
- SHAW THINGS ($30) can be bought from The Examiner office in Cimitiere Street, Launceston, or via www.facebook.com/ShawThings