As an official of the Lichfield, Sutton and Tamworth branch of the Campaign for Real Ale, I consider it one of the truths of the 21st century that the bigger the television screen, the worse the pub.
Fortunes spent on plasma screens, Sky subscriptions and bad keg beer/lager invariably mean less interest taken in the quality of what's on offer; pack 'em in, get 'em legless and take their money - that seems to be the motto.
As a Tamworth FC fan, I was horrified at the numbers of people who watched the FA Cup third-round game against Norwich City in January on a big screen in Yates's/Wetherspoons/their local, rather than buy a ticket (the game didn't sell out) and experience the action live. David Sullivan, of course, would say much the same about Championship matches at 11.30am on a Sunday at Birmingham City.
To me, being in the ground/on the course is an essential part of the experience, notwithstanding my previous remarks about motor racing and the fact that I would never attend the Rabelaisian hell on earth which is Cheltenham Festival week.
The very best arenas have the ability to enhance the sporting experience. Cheltenham on a non-Festival day is sublime; Wimbledon's Centre Court puts the spectator on top of the action in a way that seems impossible on television; at the grassroots, Tamworth's Lamb ground is hugely enjoyable when packed and noisy for Tuesday evening games.
Just up the A38, however, Burton Albion's new £6million Pirelli Stadium is a soul-less steel and concrete wind-tunnel whereas their old Eton Park ground, which is now a housing estate, had the character which clings to the best non-league football grounds.
All this is prompted by my visit on Saturday to Bath's Recreation Ground.
My first serious rugby match for five years turned out to be a cracking affair, the hosts' 16-0 half-time lead all but dissolving into a 22-17 final margin. That gave Northampton Saints a losing bonus point which could yet condemn Worcester Warriors to visiting Sharmans Cross Road next season.
But the game was only half of it. My wife, a reluctant sports-watcher at the best of times, was greatly impressed by the atmosphere, in which all the testosterone was being expended on the pitch.
Yet the afternoon was made for both of us by the surroundings. The Rec, entered down stone steps that would never be allowed in a newly-built ground, is in an open space in the middle of the city on the banks of the River Avon, which runs down one side of the ground.
Look out from the main stand and you see rolling countryside. Look out from the hospitality boxes and you see spectators hanging out of the windows of the £1.5 million townhouses that border the ground. Look out from the popular side and you see the magnificent Georgian frontages of Bath city centre. On a sunlit spring day, as this was, there can be no better sporting arena in the country.
Yet for some, it's not good enough. Bath's non-rugby fans (oddly, there are some; mostly, it seems, those who work in London and have second homes in the West Country) chunter about the ground's temporary stands disfiguring the idyllic scenery. There were even rumblings earlier this season that the club could move out of the city if modest proposals for ground improvements were rejected by the local authority.
That resulted in a campaign led by the local newspaper to 'Keep rugby at the Rec', which saw thousands of people sign a petition urging the club not to move and the authorities to play ball with their plans.
These are now at the planning stage and if they are approved, Bath will have to move out of the Rec for 18 months while the work goes on.
Perhaps those who don't appreciate its joys will then have 18 months to ponder the errors of their ways as they watch rugby in an out-of-town tin shed with all the character of my mother-in law's garage.
If you ever get the chance to go to the Rec, I urge you to take it. It's the icing on the cake of a tremendous sporting experience.