It makes perfect sense to me. Huge market in terms of sponsorship. An immense reserve of exciting potential young players to tap into.
Most importantly, though, a game in London is a damn sight easier for me to get to than one in Wigan. (And cheaper).

It would have been a very easy win to get some brownie-points with local businesses. Not every executive demands £16k Parmigiani watches.

I know.

I must admit, in all the years I've watched sport I've never been invited to do 'corporate' - I must be mixing in the wrong circles!

Only ever been asked to the Ring of Indifference once for the CC final against Leeds in '11 - turned it down. Had a much better time in with the prols - I'd have only scared the living daylights out of the langoustine ciabatta mob anyway (or spent the entire 80 explaining the rules).

This is not exactly corporate, but against Salford a couple of weeks ago I was treated by my Niece to a Hospitality package at the Club to celebrate my 75th birthday.
After doing the stadium tour we had a very nice 3 course meal in Riggoletoes which I washed down with 2 or 3 pints (after 2 pints I lose count) , after the meal a couple of players ,Thornley and Shorrocks did a bit of a question and answer with the people from Wigan Hospitality doing the compering .
During the evening they came round with tickets for a draw and when it came to do the draw everyone was sat there with their tickets waiting .
The winning ticket for prize No 1 was announced and the winner went up to the stage for his/her prize all the while receiving warm applause, this was repeatead for prizes 2, 3 and 4. Then one of the announcers said prize No 5 is No 246, lo and behold I had the ticket, so up I got and made my way to the stage for my prize with everyone applauding. When I got near the stage the announcer suddenly said "if we had a prize No 5 we would gladly give it to you but we have not got one ", cue loud laughter all round as I about turned and made my way back to my table.

I laughed myself at the time but in hindsight I should have carried on walking to the stage, thrust my ticket in their faces and said where is my prize.

Many years ago (early 80s?) I managed to get myself a job at the Open Golf at Royal Birkdale for 4 days. I worked in a tent that served some pretty fancy food to the great and the good (Tarby/Brucie et al).

At the end of each day we chucked out enough untouched food to feed a small African country for a fortnight. Blokes spent the entire day scoffing and quaffing what they could tip down their throats. There were a couple of small tv's in the corners of the tent that were largely ignored.

I think for most of them the tournament itself was an unsubstantiated rumour.