Like it or not, the haka is globally perceived as a preamble to New Zealand rugby's constitution.
You can't help but break into fits of laughter when you hear people going on about how the "arousal levels" of the men in black can reach a chaotic mental state soon after performing the haka.
"We're poor starters," ABs coach Steve Hansen reportedly said. "We haven't quite got it right so maybe we are over aroused or under aroused."
The problem is easily solved, actually, and the candidate to resolve it is none other than Hansen.
One only has to marvel at his ability to remain low key at a post-match conference at the height of euphoria.
That'll make mental skills coach Gilbert Enoka redundant in that department.
Come on, let's get serious here.
Any implication that the almost two-century-old Ngati Toa and Ngati Tuwharetoa ancestral tribal dance is counterproductive has similar undercurrents to those who argue individuals become somewhat lesser players because they wear braided dreadlocks and jandals.
What is culturally offensive, though, is Maori dancers (kapa haka) at the NBL grand final in Wellington last Saturday swinging their poi to the tune of Europe's The Final Countdown.
It didn't look good and it certainly didn't feel right.
Conversely the analogy to this is Tandoori chefs adding sultanas, apple and bananas to curries to seduce foreign palate.
Adding a new haka to the All Blacks' repertoire, though, doesn't fall into that unpalatable category.
In August 2005, before the Tri-Nations test against the Springboks at Carisbrook, Dunedin, the ABs performed the inaugural Kapa O Pango.
Sure, it offends the sensibilities of the Pacifists to see Piri Weepu or Liam Messam imitate the throat-slitting action with their thumbs in the final act.
It is fair to say the haka was embarrassing until Wayne "Buck" Shelford and Hika Reid brought some cohesiveness and respectability to it in 1987 - the year of the inaugural Rugby World Cup in New Zealand and Australia.
The advent of the Kapa O Pango this century signalled a rugby-specific haka which Derek Lardelli, an expert in Maori customs and culture, wrote to enhance the values of the ABs.
Other Pacific Island cultures, for example, Samoa, Fiji and Tonga, perform similar haka with as much pomp and ceremony, if not more.
As a Fiji-born New Zealander, I recall the days of watching the Pacific Island Tri-Nations Tournament in Suva.
The countries engaged in their respective haka with pride and mutual respect.
It goes without saying the ambulances were always within earshot well before the bone-crunching tackles set in.
It did make some fans flinch but then who are we kidding - isn't that what rugby, rugby league, netball and cricket fans feed off these days?
The Smash Em Bro segment of The Crowd Goes Wild on Prime TV is a testimony to that.
Simply removing a thigh-slapping, tongue-poking, eye-balling preamble to a rugby match won't remove the potential ferocity of the next 80 minutes.
Psyching up before a game in any sport is a given although the rituals may vary.
Let's look at the French behaviour of a bygone era that could easily have bordered on barbarism, especially if one is compelled to pull out the yardstick for rugby etiquette.
In fact, Richard Loe, in a newspaper opinion column in 2001, recalled:
"I will never forget coming out to play them [France] in one test and seeing Pascal Ondarts head-butt the wall, causing himself to bleed and then he head-butted the other prop, Laurent Seigne, so they were both bleeding."
Coming from Loe, that is saying something.
The fact is the global All Black brand would be less sexier without a haka.
That other countries have tried to trivialise it or make a mockery of it only enhances its significance and accentuates the opposition's insecurity.
Removing the haka is a preposterous suggestion and not only rugby but the world will be poorer for it.