Play it again and again, but in silence

It will be a scene played out in households around New Zealand.

The video tape cover will be carefully marked with the words "All Blacks v England, Pool B game, 1999 World Cup."

The over-record protection tabs will be removed, and the tape slid into its own case. And, as a final safeguard, DO NOT ERASE.

"Must get a new tape today," someone will announce.

Or maybe even a few more tapes. Because the 1999 World Cup burst into life yesterday morning in a match that will live in the memory and, thanks to the brilliant modern sports camera work, in wonderful clarity on the video tape. And there should be a few more classics to come.

The opening-round matches were just an appetiser really when compared to this occasion at Twickenham.

A mate who managed to watch all 10 matches on the first weekend (plus four NPC games for good measure) proudly declared that the pool A game between Uruguay and Spain was the best entertainment.

The reason that a battle between a couple of minnows could reach such lofty status undoubtedly reflects that the frenetic battles between the top sides in world rugby do not always produce great spectacles. There are so many tests these days that the sense of occasion is often lost if the game itself is not stunning.

But Twickenham yesterday was something special. Unforgettable. New Zealand's rugby pride was on the line against a respected but disliked rugby foe.

Sharing the couch was the mother-in-law, who, when Robin Brooke made a superb take in front of his posts in the first few moments, declared: "We should never complain about Robin Brooke ever again."

Yes, every moment counted. Brooke had not scorched 50m for a try, nor pulled off a match-winning tackle. The game had only just begun, but a fine catch to help douse the early English fire had such significance that any perceived sins by the long-time All Black lock were immediately washed away.

The one moment that will be replayed again and again will be that try from Jonah Lomu. It came when the game hung in the balance, and by some strange quirk was virtually a re-enactment of the 1995 World Cup try against the same opposition that launched his superstar status.

The long pass from Andrew Mehrtens to Lomu looked marginally forward, and the home-style slow motion replay showed that Mehrtens launched the ball a metre short of the All Blacks' 10m line while Lomu caught it just as he was treading on the dotted line.

Time stood still for a fraction. Could it happen again? It certainly did. It might even have been better than the original.

Lomu swerved around Jeremy Guscott, motored through Austin Healey, held off Matt Dawson, and stumbled/crashed over in Dawson and Dan Luger's tackles. Lawrence Dallaglio, apparently far less ecstatic than he was on a tour to South Africa once, slid in to give Lomu a bit of body work which the big winger failed to appreciate.

A truly great moment, but one which shouldn't overshadow other contributions - from the brilliant round-the-field game from Craig Dowd, the importance of Taine Randell's defence, Josh Kronfeld's second-half courage and the running of Christian Cullen, to the hard-nosed effort from the English forwards and the pluck of their halfback Dawson.

And, especially, the try conjured up by the All Black backline and finished by Jeff Wilson.

Whereas the Twickenham crowd had a clear view of another famous Lomu run, it was the television viewer who could most appreciate the All Blacks' first try and the brilliant interchange between Tana Umaga and Wilson.

While Lomu still dominates the headlines, it could be easily argued that Umaga - with a better all-round game on attack and defence - is the best wing in the game.

His flick-up pass to Wilson in the corner was brilliant. It was also vintage Wilson, knowing how and when to trail a player, to seize a moment that others may not even have thought of, let alone execute. It is doubtful whether many in the crowd could even have witnessed it, so quickly did it happen.

But, oh for a commentary team who could live up to the occasion.

"Former All Black Wayne Graham" tries hard to hold up this wobbly front row. But when the big prop keeps crashing into the ground, and the little hooker is unbinding all over the place, it's hard work for FABWG.

Quinny and John McBeth are not helped by the obvious detachment they have from the organisation of camera work and replays.

Yet they seem oblivious to key moments.

Referee Peter Marshall - who did a superb job in enabling an intense battle to flow as well as it did - was not necessarily wrong to allow Mehrtens' long, and now famous, pass to Lomu. But surely it deserved some attention from the commentators.

Similarly, English flanker Richard Hill was marginally in front of Jonny Wilkinson's up-and-under and then impeded Kronfeld shortly before England's first penalty goal. Again, a line call for Marshall, and again, not a squeak from the commentators.

But worse, Quinn has descended into some sort of anti-English obsession in the final stages of his commentary career.

It was obvious in one segment of his Legends documentary (an uneven but sometimes excellent series) that Quinn holds a grudge against what he sees as stuffy English rugby.

Yesterday morning, he railed against the English - who treat Lomu as a sporting superstar - for a mispronunciation of his surname, a mistake many New Zealanders make anyway. He found no humour at all that someone had refereed to Lomu as Joanna Lumley. During a wonderful sporting occasion, Quinn hopped on a shabby little soap box, to get in a decent dig at these "lofty" English, as he called them. It was not the time or place.

Quinn sounds like a self-appointed protection squad for Lomu, a genius matchwinner capable of inspirational charges with the ball, but also a player who does not have the all-round games of a Cullen, Umaga or Wilson.

Quinn is now veering towards inverted anti-English snobbery - layering it with jingoistic junk.

It didn't ruin a great match where, from the New Zealand point of view, the good guys won in fine style.

But Quinn has not left us any worthy words for posterity either. They will sound even more pitiful when those video tapes are played in years to come.