MAYBE it was the emotion of the occasion that got to me. Watching Hull bid a tearful farewell to the ground they've called home for the past 108 years, I found myself suddenly trashing all my pre-conceived opinions regarding the tide of moves to new stadiums.

I had always rationalised the ditching of tradition by quoting the dubious notion of 'progress,' convincing myself that the need for more corporate hospitality and a 21st century image merited the switch to a shiny new facility.

But the wave of joy which greeted Paul Parker's last-second try against the Kiwis on Tuesday - the last ever at The Boulevard - exposed that principle as superficial and completely lacking in the passion on which the sport was constructed.

These purpose-built arenas may be worthy of design awards and drag in a few extra pennies but they simply lack soul. The Boulevard, like Wigan's Central Park, was never perfect. It was woefully short of hospitality and much of the terracing was exposed to the icy weather sweeping in from the North Sea.

But what these so-called outdated venues lack in cocktail lounges, they make up for in character. They are rich in memories of super showmen and woeful wasters, spine tingling triumph and gut wrenching failure.

Future generations will, in time, forge their own legends and treasured memories in their new surroundings. But it will take the best part of another century before the Kingston Communications Stadium holds as strong a place in Humberside hearts.

St Helens, Bradford and Leeds are among the narrowing band of Super League sides yet to make the leap of faith but there's nothing wrong with their current home that a little DIY won't cure.

Hopefully they will choose familiarity over fashion and stop divorcing the game from its proud ancestry.