Fred de Jong: Nothing better than being there

The party is over. No, I am not talking about England, Argentina or Brazil. I am referring to my own World Cup. It's time for me to head home from my first cup experience.

Ten matches, eight stadiums, seeing 13 teams and travelling thousands of kilometres by rail have made this an exhilarating, exhausting and unforgettable trip.

I have seen first hand some of the best players in the world. I have soaked up the atmosphere both inside and outside the stadiums as the fans have turned Germany into a nationwide festival.

When tens of thousands of fans with no chance of getting tickets travel from overseas just to be close to the action, you know something special is happening. And Germany can take great credit for making it so special.

Every opportunity has been taken to make the event as fan-friendly as possible.

Giant fan fests with huge video screens regularly attract crowds as big as the matches themselves. Extra trains and trams are put on to move people quickly and efficiently.

Thousands of volunteers are on hand to assist and direct. Even the normally severe German police have had an injection of good humour, according to the locals. With the weather also playing its part, the atmosphere outside the matches has been superb.

But it is what happens inside the stadiums that has been the real eye-opener.

The chanting, the singing, the whistling, the noise, the passion. To see the 50-year-old man next to you crying his eyes out because his Argentina has just lost on penalties is touching.

To hear the English fans break into God Save the Queen the first time is stirring (although it does lose some of its impact after the fifth rendition). And to see the pandemonium that greets the arrival of Maradona into a stadium is astonishing.

The stadiums all had major facelifts for the tournament at costs ranging from €40 million ($80 million) to €400 million ($800 million) for the brand-new Allianz Arena in Munich.

And it shows.

They make our stadiums look decidedly second rate in comparison. I sincerely hope someone with very deep pockets is preparing to spend up large for the Rugby World Cup.

But ultimately it is the football I went for. To see the best players live. To see what makes them so special without the distortion of television.

The blinding acceleration of Thierry Henry, the effortless passing with both feet from Michael Ballack, the dribbling ability and balance of the totally under-used Lionel Messi, even the clinical defending of Fabio Cannavaro held a certain fascination.

There were also disappointments.

Aryen Robben was poor in the Dutch games I saw and Ronaldinho never produced as expected, too content to try to be a provider rather than dominating matches as he does for Barcelona.

In fact Brazil overall were weak. There were flashes of brilliance but they were guilty of just doing enough to get by. Only when they went behind to the French did they show any sense of urgency. By then it was too late.

But one single performance on its own would have made my whole trip worthwhile. Watching Zinedine Zidane against Brazil was exactly what I had hoped to see.

A superstar in a classic display of craft, artistry and guile. Slicing past defenders, deft touches and slide-rule passes, Zidane showed it all.

Being there you could see just how limited the space he had to work with was. It really did elevate him above all the other talent on the pitch that night.

As my brother and I left the stadium, a group of Brazilians broke into a chant of "Zizou, Zizou". That's what you go to the World Cup for.

* Fred de Jong is a former All White.