Steve Deane: Welsh no better in high definition

The All Blacks will have to watch out for match officials determined to show they are not intimidated by them. Photo / Getty Images

Isn't high-definition television wonderful?

Apologies to those who don't have it so don't know the answer. You'll just have to trust me. It is. Wonderful.

Without high definition it would have been impossible to see with such devastating clarity just how much Welsh rugby hasn't changed.

The All Blacks went into yesterday's match at a historical low ebb. They had been mugged by the French, bounced around all over the shop in the Tri-Nations by a Springbok side that couldn't even beat Leicester, and had even been rudely and arbitrarily stripped of their aura by a wannabe Welsh wizard called Warren.

Trouble ahead, surely?

Well, there probably would have been had the Welsh not adhered so diligently to type. The Welsh forwards were brave and committed, but physically just a touch inferior to the men in black. Given the country's national symbol - no, not the leek, the other one - the Welsh must fancy themselves as real fire-breathers. But the only dragon this lot resemble is Puff, cause that's what they always run out of. Being magic and all, Puff is also a bit of a fairy, but maybe it's best if we stop the analogies there.

As for the backs, the Welsh are a nimble and dangerous lot. Not quite nimble and dangerous enough to actually score many tries, but nimble and dangerous all the same.

Just don't tackle them hard or you'll end up with the rugby world's most tuneful booing greeting your every touch. You heard me, Dan Carter, you ruffian.

The Welsh saved the best for last, the coup de grace coming in the 79th minute at a lineout close to the All Black line. Clearly intent on repelling a maul, the All Blacks were never going to contest the throw. But that didn't stop the Welsh hooker throwing the ball and any chance of a face-saving draw right over his jumper's head.

No, the Welsh just don't change, regardless of which Kiwi is coaching them at the time.

The only warning Wales managed to issue this struggling rugby nation was to our stadium builders. Once again it was hi-def telly, with its glorious depiction of every useless, upturned divot, that revealed the full extent of the message: nice seating and a roof that closes are nice - but they are sod-all good if the sods are no good.

Cardiff's Millennium Stadium is such a shrine to not quite doing things right that it should be uplifted and relocated to Auckland for the next World Cup.

Its turf is "ingeniously grown on hundreds of palettes, which can be removed for big concerts", a website promoting tours to the venue happily states.

Or, as one stadium insider told the Daily Mail when the shocking state of the pitch threatened the hosting of an FA Cup final: "It doesn't need rocket science to work out that the grass needs expensive, regular care because without light and sun, it dies - whether it's laid in the back garden or the Millennium Stadium."

As for the game itself, adopting a can't-beat-em-join-em philosophy has helped raise my enjoyment levels significantly. Every time yet another aimless midfield kick is gobbled up by a fullback playing on the wing, I leap out of my chair and join Nisbo and the Sky commentary team in hailing it as the greatest athletic feat since Nadia Comaneci's perfect 10.

It is, however, a high-repetition exercise, and you do get sore quads.

In fairness, the second half was somewhat entertaining - although not quite enough to erase the stain left by the first 40 minutes of aerial misadventure.

League, one feels, missed a trick yesterday. With the aura-less All Blacks floundering, a good Kiwis performance against the English might have hooked a few channel and code flip-floppers.

Sadly, league's self-styled reputation as the home of fearless, skilful, high-tempo rugby practitioners took a bit of a battering as the Kiwis dropped the ball, both literally and metaphorically, in Huddersfield.

What should have been a cracker of a game against England in the birthplace of the game simply wasn't. League, when played badly and refereed worse, is just like any other sport to watch: bad.

Not even high definition changes that.