A boxing rivalry so intense that their sons got to copycat it 35 years later, yet the original is simply the best. That the preening, poetry-spouting, monocle-sporting, Jodhpur-wearing Eubank would irritate the rough-and-ready ex-squaddie Benn was hardly surprising. But the depth of the animosity was remarkable.

“I personally do hate him,” intoned Benn, exuding malevolence at the contract signing for their 1990 middleweight fight, shown live on ITV. Eubank, who refused to even look at his foe, demanded “some parliamentary procedure” – but there would be none shown in the ring on fight night. Benn’s ferocity forced the unbeaten but untested underdog to fight fire with fire. Eubank, swallowing blood from a badly cut tongue, rose from a knockdown in the eighth round to stop Benn in the ninth and take his WBO title.

In truth, the two Britons, who came from tough upbringings, had more in common than they cared to admit. But Eubank’s disdain for his profession – “a mug’s game” – antagonised Benn. Their 1993 rematch, which drew 43,000 people to Old Trafford and 16.5 million viewers on UK television, ended in a draw. It was their final in-ring fight but the two have made up, then fallen out again, several times since. We wouldn’t have it any other way.

Drive to Survive would give its right axle for a modern-day Formula One feud this bitter. The motor-mouthed, hot-tempered Piquet once referred to his fellow Brazilian Ayrton Senna as “a São Paulo taxi driver”. Yet Piquet’s dislike of his 1986-87 teammate Mansell raised his insults to the Shakespearean. “An uneducated blockhead,” was his view of his Williams partner, before Piquet tumbled into the gutter when referring to the British driver’s “stupid and ugly wife”.

Mansell understandably bristled at such appalling language and the pair focused so much on their own battles throughout the 1986 season that Alain Prost snuck in to claim the drivers’ championship. In 1987, the moustachioed Mansell won six races to Piquet’s three, yet the latter was rarely off the podium and lifted his third world title. It was their final season as teammates but bridges have been built in retirement. After several TV appearances together, Piquet conceded that in terms of titles: “I should have won in 86, he should have won in 87.”

Sir Alex Ferguson v Arsène Wenger, Brian Clough v Don Revie, Diego Simeone v anyone – manager rivalries are a rich tapestry. But few burned with such intensity as Guardiola v Mourinho, particularly during their two years in La Liga. Real Madrid brought in Mourinho in 2010; the ultimate win-at-all-costs pragmatist to dismantle Barcelona’s tiki-taka idealists. Familiarity quickly resulted in contempt between the pair, who had spent four years together at Barça when Guardiola was a player and Mourinho an interpreter and assistant coach.

“I hope one day he has the chance of winning a brilliant, clean championship with no scandal,” sneered Mourinho in 2011, as he accused Uefa of favouring Guardiola after a Champions League triumph. Cuttingly, he would later claim Guardiola’s baldness was a sign he “doesn’t enjoy football”. Barcelona won most of the head-to-head battles – including a 5-0 league thrashing – but the sniping exasperated Guardiola who called Mourinho “the fucking boss” of the press room, adding: “I try to learn from José on the pitch, but I prefer to learn as little as possible from him off the pitch.” In 2012, Madrid won La Liga with 100 points and a burned-out Guardiola stepped away from management for a year.

Yet the toll was just as great for Mourinho, who left Madrid in 2013. The anticipated rematch in Manchester failed to spark, despite Mourinho’s gripes at City’s “financial sharks” and unfair league titles. Their feud has mellowed in the years since, but it is doubtful the two will be chuckling away on their own Iberian football podcast (‘Pep Talk’?) in retirement.

“I think Serena hated me for being the skinny kid who beat her,” Sharapova wrote in her autobiography, recalling her breakthrough 2004 Wimbledon final win at age 17. Well, Williams definitely hated that experience enough to win the next 19 matches against Sharapova, ending their rivalry with a staggering 20-2 win-loss record.

The American’s relentless dominance, raising her game to new heights against one foe in particular, seemed fuelled by something beyond on-court competition. That they reportedly dated the same player, Grigor Dimitrov, added personal heat. “Hey, if she wants to be with the guy with a black heart, go for it,” said Williams in 2013, while labelling Sharapova “so boring”.

Maria returned serve: “If she wants to talk about something personal, maybe she should talk about her relationship and her boyfriend that was married and is getting a divorce.” But Williams v Sharapova was bigger than any soap opera love triangle. It was a battle between the world’s best player and its most marketable; as if Williams – irked by the media attention paid to her 6ft, blond Russian adversary – had to remind everyone who the real era-defining athlete was. Happily, the two have actually become friends in retirement, with Sharapova asking Williams to induct her into the tennis hall of fame in 2025.

Cricket’s ultimate ‘Ian-off’ first began with a bar brawl in Melbourne in 1977, when England’s 21-year-old rising star Botham got into it with Australia’s former Test captain Chappell. The details have been vehemently disputed ever since. Beefy’s version is him punching Chappell to end his vile pommie-bashing. Chappell’s take is a hysterical young Botham lost the plot and pushed him off his chair, then threatened him with a glass.

They later clashed on the pitch – sledging, bouncers and send-offs – but it is away from the sporting arena that the rage has spilled over. More than 30 years of trading insults came to a head during the 2010-11 Ashes in Australia. Unable to walk past one another in a car park without some sly verbals, the two grandpas – combined age of 127 – went for each other and had to be restrained by their media colleagues. Three years ago a TV documentary, The Longest Feud: Chappell v Botham, brought no resolution with Chappell calling Botham “a coward”, while Sir Loin labelled his adversary “sad and lonely”. Sensational longevity.

Who didn’t the mercurial genius Higgins view as a loathed nemesis? Steve Davis (“I hate him”), Dennis Taylor (“I’ll have you shot”), Stephen Hendry (“Up your arse, you [c-word]”). Yet the greatest vitriol was saved for his polar opposite: snooker’s Canadian grinder, Thorburn. They played for money on Thorburn’s first day in England, which ended, Cliff recalled, with the Northern Irishman “at the top of the stairs with a ball in his hand about to throw it at me”.

Higgins won most of their matches but lost the biggest: the 1980 world championship final, when ‘the Hurricane’ blew a 9-5 lead to lose 18-16. Away from the table, during the 1983 Irish Open, Thorburn lamped Higgins and kicked him in the groin after being told he was “a Canadian [c-bomb] who is shit at snooker”. Five years later, the (ahem) famously clean-living Higgins accused Thorburn of utilising “bags of white powder”, ruining Cliff’s reputation.

For all the fallouts, a trace of respect endured. In 2009, a year before Higgins’ death, Thorburn won an embarrassingly one-sided legends match and was so upset at seeing his rival diminished that he shed a tear as they embraced afterwards.