It appeared an impossible task. Take a team coming off four humbling defeats, one mired with cultural concerns that led to the resignation of the previous coach, and in less than six months turn them into a side capable of winning a World Cup.
Who would assume a role so thankless? More importantly, who could make it a success?
In New Zealand, only a few coaches boast the necessary nous, and fortunately for the Black Ferns, they snagged one with enough nous to earn a nickname and everything.
Wayne Smith hasn't worked immediate miracles with the Ferns — and nor was that the promise when he was back lured back out of Waihī Beach.
But the coaching guru has in his short tenure identified a style of play to disarm the big guns of the north, installed that style while introducing rookies and invigorating veterans, and instilled within the Black Ferns some hope of winning this home World Cup.
In other words, The Professor has been blessing New Zealand rugby with yet another lesson, one that may soon rank among his best.
2. Heaven for sevens stars
Smith's chosen style — expansive and expressive and true to the ethos of rugby in this country — has been obvious if intermittent during his reign. It's yet to be deployed flawlessly, but that's almost by design.
The coach asked his Black Ferns to make mistakes. He wanted players with the courage to attack from their own tryline. And he felt that tapping into their natural athleticism was the best way to counter the powerful packs of England and France.
If you can't go through 'em, go around 'em ... is what Smith would probably declare if he were much less smart and eloquent.
The Ferns undoubtedly possess the players to enact that style, especially after the reintegration of the sevens stars into the side, exemplified with an exclamation point by Portia Woodman's seven-try haul against Japan at Eden Park.
At the very least, the hosts will go down swinging, making them an appealing watch for the casual fan. But an even more appealing proposition? They go up swinging, which is a thing that makes sense ... don't think about it.
3. Team of ~1.8m behind them
The Black Ferns will call on those casuals in their quest to triumph. Along with supporters of the hardcore variety; the fickle but ill-important fairweather fans; the people who get annoyed by incessant coverage of what they hilariously call 'sportsball'; and those who simply won't watch women's sport due to their tiny little brains.
The hosts will want all those fine folk — minus that last group — to get behind them in a team of five million, even if only the northernmost couple mill can actually watch matches live.
Plenty of reasons have been offered as to why the tournament is being held in Auckland and Whangārei, but you don't need five of them: it's about cost.
Which is unfortunate, when the tournament should be about forging and fostering relationships in the community, showing kids who may not know otherwise that they too can one day play rugby for their country, providing they're not painfully unco-ordinated, in which case they can one day write about it instead.
But the lack of away days shouldn't radically detract from the Black Ferns' home advantage, especially when their rivals have cost concerns of their own.
4. Jetlagged favourites are fallible
Don't be fooled by their 25-match winning streak, an ostensibly dominant run that includes two thumping victories over the Black Ferns the last time the sides met.
England are there for the taking.
A tired analyst would look at that streak and suggest that the hot favourites are without peer in the women's game, that their earlier foray into professionalism has made this World Cup theirs to lose.
A wired analyst, though, would explain that English sports teams have historically proven quite good at losing World Cups. And an inspired one would point out that all the winning merely means England are overdue for a stumble.
That's especially true when considering the players stumbled out the back of the plane, after the RFU opted against extending the business class courtesy they showed England's men before the 2019 World Cup.
I've flown 30-odd hours to and from the UK a couple of times and not once have I then been able to play six international rugby games in the space of five weeks, let alone win them all to be crowned a world champion. It's gonna be a long, cramped trip home.
5. Running out of cups
This tournament may mark an auspicious endpoint for New Zealand rugby, a fitting way perhaps to conclude a tough old year for the national game.
The prize the Black Ferns are defending once had plenty of company in the trophy cabinet. In 2018, after the men's and women's sevens sides won their respective tournaments, New Zealand held all four senior World Cups across the two formats.
Now, only one remains. But we can't keep losing World Cups forever. That's not the New Zealand way. (OK, it's not the New Zealand rugby way; the Black Caps can absolutely keep losing World Cups forever.)
The rot must stop sometime and, not solely owing to the premise of this never-wrong column, I've got a good feeling about this one. Don't downsize that trophy cabinet just yet.