According to BBC researchers, a majority of television viewers associate the BBC Sport brand with cutting-edge technology, such as red-button interactive services, rather than flagship shows such as Grandstand. Therefore, the flagship has been sunk.

Personally, I associate BBC Sport with snooker, bowls, the Cup Final, Dougie Donnelly and countless hours of sports that you don't really want to watch but still find yourself drawn to by some invisible spell. But that's by the by.

The nation has spoken and Grandstand has gone. Forty-eight years after its famous theme tune first burst into British living rooms, it has been consigned to a scrap heap that already includes Sportsnight, Rugby Special and World Of Sport.

Its axing reflects an irreversible change in the relationship between sport and broadcasting technology. Grandstand had become an anachronism, a broadcasting behemoth sitting uneasily amidst a plethora of multi-stream digital options, streaming sports news services and interactive avenues.

But just because Grandstand was out of date does not mean it was not without value. Sometimes, less can be more and, at the moment, we could all do with a little less sport.

Now that might seem like a strange thing for a sports writer to say. After all, if we all lost interest in sport, I'd pretty quickly be going the same way as Grandstand. And, by its very nature, the decision to axe the programme means we all get a little less sport in the end.

But, with the growth of digital and cable television continuing apace, Grandstand's death is another nail in the coffin of sport as a communal ritual to be shared by the nation.

At the moment, live sport is everywhere but it neither excites nor unites in the way that it used to.

Yesterday, terrestrial viewers could have watched eight hours of snooker, two hours of touring car racing, three hours of baseball and a documentary on the history of England v Germany football games.

Digital or cable viewers could have watched up to 14 specialist sports channels showing a range of live action that included a Champions League semi-final, an American golf tournament, a European tour golf event and Federation Cup tennis. Or more snooker.

Anyone who got through all that lot deserves a medal. But while the choice is undoubtedly there, the sense of anticipation isn't.

Years ago, a live football match was a major event. An FA Cup semi-final would have dominated the whole weekend, with the family dinner being rushed to get in front of the television by kick-off. On Saturday, Chelsea v Liverpool wasn't even the only game being shown live that day.

Similarly, Grandstand was a must-see event because it was one of the few places you were guaranteed to see live sport.

Admittedly, it might only have been a rugby league game from the second round of the Challenge Cup or some showjumping from Hickstead, but it was live and it was exciting.

The sight of Des Lynam introducing the 2.20 from Newbury was an integral part of Saturday afternoon and the fact that the BBC was willing to devote half of its entire output to Grandstand underlined that sport mattered.

Now, it is shifted from pillar to post. The BBC can claim it currently shows more sport than ever but, in percentage terms, the amount of air time it devotes has shrunk considerably.

Similarly, it is unable to create stars in the way that it did. Years ago, the likes of Harvey Smith and Eric Bristow became household names thanks to Grandstand's coverage of minority sports.

With Sky Sports calling the tune, football has become king. Hence, you can name the Spurs back four but probably can't come up with a single showjumper, ice hockey player or carpet bowler.

Ultimately, of course, fans of those sports will find them somewhere. But it is not the same as knowing everyone else was also watching them on a Saturday afternoon.

Similarly, next time a live football game is on the television (tonight, of course, provided you've got ITV4) take a second to consider how much of an event it is.

I'd take a bit of water-skiing (and yes, that did used to be on Grandstand) any day.

The All England Tennis Club is currently under fire for paying women less to perform at Wimbledon than men.

Their justification is that, because women's matches are the best-of-three-sets while men's are the best-of-five, they are actually paying them more for their work.

Last year, Roger Federer, the men's champion, earned £2,825 for every game he played, while Venus Williams, the women's winner, won £3,947 for each of her games.

Clearly, there is a compromise here. Offer £1,000 a game to each winner and make that your final offer.

Suddenly, the silence from the world's leading tennis players will be deafening.

Wimbledon's rulers aren't the only ones to have come in for a fair bit of criticism this week.

Chris Eubank has also been castigated for his decision to sell downloads of his second contest with Michael Watson. For £10, internet users can view one of the most controversial contests in British boxing history, a brutal fight that left Watson in a coma for 40 days.

Clearly, it's not for the faint-hearted. But despite protests this week, it is far more than voyeurism for the blood-thirsty.

For a start, with proceeds being split 50-50 between Eubank and Watson, and with the latter whole-heartedly endorsing the project, why shouldn't boxers be allowed to extract the maximum value from their efforts?

And why shouldn't fans be able to watch the one fight that perfectly encapsulated the triumph and the tragedy of the fight game?

The contrast between the two is what boxing is about - if you don't like it, turn off your computer.