That feels more like a chore for everyone to get through – a scenario that offers virtually no intrigue, no mystery, no sense of anticipation and will deliver, at best, minimal engagement.
In the current circumstances there's an argument to say we should be grateful for any test football we can get, but conversely what the unprecedented world of Covid-19 restrictions brought, was an opportunity to bring New Zealanders the sort of test football they actually wanted.
New Zealand's Plan B was stacking up as way more attractive than a fast-twitch Rugby Championship. New Zealand's Plan B actually had a few people excited because it was a proposal that connected with hearts as much as it did minds.
In this alternative world we would have seen a four-test Bledisloe Cup series hosted evenly between the two nations, and then a three-test series against the Boks and a one-off test against Japan in New Zealand.
The series with the Boks would have included a few provincial games and generated the old-school vibe that was central to the success of Super Rugby Aotearoa.
Fans have made it clear they crave a more traditional framework – that rugby is best when it organically generates a sense of tribalism and authenticity driven by the perceived intensity of the contest.
We want the best playing the best and also for the game's highest-paid players to walk among us, like the old days, when test heroes were in the club rooms with the rest of us not because they were obliged to be there at the behest of a sponsor, but because they wanted to be.
The Rugby Championship has never come close to generating what fans are really after and it's never come close to emulating the intensity or anticipation of the Six Nations.
When it was the Tri-Nations it kind of worked, but come 2012 and the arrival of Argentina, the whole thing started to creak and crack and it says everything that the All Blacks openly acknowledge that their number one priority every year is the Bledisloe Cup and not the Rugby Championship.
The fact that there was considerable excitement about Plan B and not Plan A will hopefully resonate within New Zealand Rugby.
There is no criticism that they didn't take a militant stance and try to blow up the Rugby Championship this year to better serve their own needs and wants.
The decision to unilaterally disband Super Rugby was right because Super Rugby was broken and dragging the game into oblivion. And there is a clear path to follow in building a new version of the competition – an eight-to-10-team format – that everyone agrees makes better sense.
But the Rugby Championship isn't broken as such. It's lacking something rather than being fundamentally defunct and there has to be a meaningful, annual Southern Hemisphere international competition locked into the schedule so as there is certainty – a core component – around which broadcasters, sponsors and fans can all commit.
So the diplomatic path was the right one for NZR to tread in relation to supporting this year's Rugby Championship.
No one should be confused, however, that the collective groan omitted on confirmation the Championship is going ahead, was not because Australia were named hosts, it was because Plan B had been killed.
And that should say to the Sanzaar alliance that they need to consider making significant and permanent changes to the Rugby Championship from next year.
No one loves how things currently are. Argentina have added little beyond a heavier carbon footprint and if, as now seems inevitable, there is no home for them in any version of Super Rugby, what chance of the Pumas actually developing the way they will need to to justify their place in the Southern Hemisphere's prime international real estate?
Equally, if the game is to actually survive longer term, it needs Argentina to be serious test contenders so the Pumas can't just be cut adrift and abandoned.
The future make-up and format of the Rugby Championship is not an easy problem to solve but the past few weeks have highlighted that there is most definitely a problem.