Chris Rattue: Making Rokocoko look like Benny Hill

We're down to one television in our home.

Not so long ago, we'd considered upscaling from two to three. Yippee. The prospect of three televisions. We've made it.

And yet, just the other day, we decided that instead of allowing commentator Murray Mexted into the bedroom it was time to go the other way and get him out of the living room.

It's very refreshing being relatively TV free, although it does mean the need for delicate negotiations at times when there are programme clashes.

My wife hates sport and loves programmes like the English one in which a presenter follows the stories of people who go to extraordinary lengths to build their dream homes.

The show is heavily formulated and each episode runs the opposite to a typical Blues season because the house builders always start with a series of disasters that are sorted into a happy ending.

The building work can take many months and even years, although when German builders are used, it takes only a couple of days.

Back to sport.

Getting rid of the second television means the need for more negotiation and recording.

My all-time favourite negotiating line is this: If you don't let me watch the football tonight, my love, I'm going to blow up your wardrobe with a stick of jelly.

To be fair, I get a pretty good run with the telly when it comes to sport but the odd compromise - also known as a defeat - is necessary.

Which brings us to the topic of recording, and even the overall watching, of televised sport.

What I'm finding - and I'm wondering if this is a common experience - is that recording sport no longer works.

Not in the sense that the recording doesn't work, which was the case in the bad old days when the VHS recorders were so complicated that the instruction book was not only bigger than the machine but appeared to be translated out of Japanese by a very green English language student.

"Take over out the button start and revert the second line in bound recording Nebraska," isn't all that helpful during a test-match taping crisis.

No, the recording isn't working these days in the sense of actually seeing recorded games through to the end. In league parlance, instead of seeing out the sets of six I'm taking risky early plays that aren't coming off.

This happened again over the weekend, and as a result, about all I've seen are the results.

We went to the international comedy festival on Friday night, which was a good laugh apart from most of the New Zealand acts. Maybe all of our best comedians are overseas at international comedy festivals.

Anyway, on arriving home I ignited the whiz-bang hi-definition MySky recording device and as always, it worked perfectly.

Actually, to digress, it doesn't always work perfectly.

We followed the fine old series about the English actress and royal mistress Lillie Langtry - entitled Lillie - and the recording died just before the end of the 13th and final episode, with Lillie on her death-bed in what presumably was the final scene. How frustrating. She may have said a few famous final words, although by the state of her it was unlikely.

Apart from that, MySky is usually technically spot on and incredibly easy to use.

And yet, I'm not really using it - not properly, that is.

Twenty minutes into Friday night's clash between the Hurricanes and the Blues, with the Aucklanders already going down in a hail of tries, curiosity crept in as inevitability invaded the game. So I put it on moderately fast forward.

Then faster fast forward. Then faster still, up to Benny Hill chase speed.

You can get a game of rugby to go from nought to 100km per hour in 2.3 seconds with MySky.

Then impatience took over completely, and the internet provided the result. On Sunday morning, there was a terrific lineup of recorded games waiting to be watched, and they are still waiting to be watched.

Went for a walk. Made a lamb stew.

Confessions of a former sports' addict. If it's properly live then I'm inclined to still enjoy sport although not in the volumes of before. Delayed is another matter, though.

Perhaps there are too many miles on the clock. Middle aged, and with decades of games in the bag already, sport doesn't have the same attraction any more. Been there, seen that ... life is too short.

Sport is still fascinating, in terms of reading and talking about it, but the act of spending hours watching it is less attractive. Is it possible that in the age of wall-to-wall sport, some of us are finding that we have been spoiled by the choice?

Maybe it's simply a mid-season lull.

So, that was the weekend that was.

The Hurricanes appeared cohesive and very well organised during the opening quarter while the Blues looked chaotic - even before you put them on 30x fast forward.

Weekend winner

Danny Lee - he made a PGA cut and showed he will make the grade. The Chiefs - a pivotal win in the type of game they would have lost in the past.

What to watch

One v two in the Super 14. The Chiefs versus the Hurricanes on Saturday night. Strange but true.