It's not just me. Joe Montana is a TiVotee. Tony Hawk flips for it. Kevin Gannett, John Elway, Ronnie Lott, Brett Bodine—they all gave unsolicited testimonials to TiVo! Normally, these guys won't burp for free!
TiVo is such a joy that even if a game is going on that I want to watch, I purposely won't watch it live. I'll rotate my tires or catch up on my Wally Cox video collection while TiVo records the game, then watch it without delays or interruptions as soon as it's over. Do you know how much fun it is to go, "Running play? Borrrring" and zap right through it?
Soon, you, too, will be using sentences like, "Well, I watched the Dolphins on one set, but I TiVoed the Braves on another." TiVo—greatest invention since chili-cheese fries—has been out only four years and already it's a verb!
Oh, and TiVo saves more than sports. It saves relationships.
Let's say you're a guy watching the sports report on the 10 o'clock news. You only get five minutes, right? Those five minutes are crucial to your emotional well-being and fantasy-league standings. And just as Biff Hairspray swings into the NBA scores, the wife comes up and says, "Honey?"
And you do the standard guy trick, which is to turn your whole body toward the voice, while keeping your head facing the set. "You're not listening," she says.
"I am too," you say, nodding like a sanatorium inmate.
Not convinced, she says, "O.K., tomorrow, you'll have to go up to school and take Denise to the orthodontist and then drop her at her clarinet lesson...."
But of course you're enthralled with Timberwolves 102, Clippers 98. And this is what you hear instead: "O.K., tomorrow Kevin Garnett will have to go up and underdontist and then drop four threes on her clarinet lesson...."
Then it hits you at about 1 a.m., in the middle of REM sleep, that you agreed to do something and have no idea what it is.