McCaw used the photo opportunity to stage a mock handover of power, nice words were said and the floor was opened to questions.
It was left to the regular rugby journalists to keep the quiz going, while eavesdropping stars such as Paul Holmes could take notes and be primed for their exclusives later.
For those who had not had a copy of the report dropped off in the morning mail, or were without speed of light reading and comprehension skills, it was a bit like pinning the tail on the donkey.
And that was how the NZRFU, public relations and media planners wanted it.
Give them some but not too much - let them go away and digest the report.
It was a rapid conclusion to the day which did not really begin moving until 3pm when NZRFU staff at the Hudder Parker Building were told about Rutherford and McCaw.
The secrecy had worked. Anyone who had been involved in the three-month inquiry by Sir Thomas and looked as though he or she could use a photocopier or telephone, had been asked to sign a two-page confidentiality agreement.
There were rumours, but nothing substantial.
At 4pm, provincial representatives were told about the report, offered apologies for the loss of World Cup rights and asked to come back next month with their interpretations.
Then came the one-minute warning - like the lights at a grand prix, except the media were caught in them as Sky broadcast the conference on the Rugby Channel.
When McCaw and Fisher left, Rutherford entered the room.
He looked upbeat, he had a shiny new haircut, he looked better than he had in previous weeks. The Herald heard he started D-Day in a very buoyant mood at the office.
This was confirmation. But this was also the last day of the job the former lawyer started in 1999.
"This is it," he said cheerily, having admitted he had resigned last Friday.
He recalled that when he was made chief executive, he asked an unnamed politician what the fishbowl of the public arena would be like.
He was assured it would be fine as long as his children were young enough. They are, at nine, six and one, and Rutherford said the great personal bonus about his departure was "getting to know his family again."
He said he would have revealed what his severance package was worth, but the NZRFU had insisted that it remain secret.
It was ironic that Rutherford should suggest some public offerings as he ended a tenure during which he was a reluctant communicator, a failing he recognised during his departing question-and-answers.
Some journalists he would cheerfully have met in a "dark alley," but he conceded New Zealand rugby had to be much more mature about the media interest in its sport.
He wished New Zealand still had the World Cup, he accepted he had to move on if the NZRFU was to reconstruct international bridges, he was proud of his work, he did not feel he was a scapegoat, it was critical New Zealand organised its commercial foundations better.
Rutherford was quite verbose, though not as garrulous as he was on that March 8 evening when he and McCaw attacked IRB chairman Vernon Pugh.
But it was as though he wanted to say a lot.
It's a shame he did not have that policy throughout his tenure, but last night was probably a cleansing exercise for him.
Sir Thomas Eichelbaum's full report
