KEY POINTS:
Every cloud has a silver lining and in the case of the rugby World Cup, a very un-grand final may just be the catalyst for saving the game.
All recoveries benefit from finding a true rock bottom first, and rugby found what we must hope was its nadir in the Stade de France.
Yes, some in the English camp have rejoiced in what they feel was a fairytale ride. There have even been claims that the sight of grown men crashing into each other may somehow cure the ills of South Africa, although this is even more of a fairytale if the experience of 1995 is anything to go by.
It's easy for the high and mighty, and the writers, to find grandeur but the delights of Victor Matfield soaring in a lineout can fade for the average Joe Blow when faced with the reality of life on Monday morning. Where, you have to ask, has sport ever united a troubled nation much past the after-match party and the fancy speeches.
Still, we can live in hope.
As I write, someone has passed this desk and announced they thoroughly enjoyed the World Cup final.
"It was great because it was close and there were no tries. That meant it was tough," she said.
"Mind you, I'm one of those people who likes to pop in and out of the room and get other things done at the same time."
So there you are. Each to their own, and there is no accounting for everyone's World Cup taste.
The opinions coming from rugby luminaries however are, thankfully, unanimous, I feel.
Grant Fox may have summed up the situation best when he said that while no one can ever be guaranteed a great occasion in the lottery that is sport, you should have a degree of confidence about seeing a spectacle. Touche.
"While there have been some good games there haven't been enough," he opined about the World Cup. Exactly.
It is harder and harder to approach any rugby match with an expectation of witnessing anything to match the days when Bryan Williams left defenders waving at his sidestep, when David Campese danced like a star, Phil Bennett could change direction like a pinball, when a giant forward like Ian Kirkpatrick or Colin Meads could make a marauding run, or when Christian Cullen carved up defences like the proverbial Christmas turkey.
Flamboyant rugby and intense occasions should not be mutually exclusive and those who claim this are either foolish rugby apologists or are serving their own agendas. Rugby by its loose nature may be prone to a savaging via defence-minded tactics, but the battle for the light must go on.
Mark Ella, Mike Gibson, Danie Gerber, Philippe Sella, JPR Williams, Gerald Davies, Jonah Lomu ... for all of rugby's dreadful old inadequacies, I can only say that those were the days.
Was there anyone at this World Cup who will evoke memories to compete with that lot. Even the greats who are still trundling on, like Stephen Larkham, have had the spirit crushed out of them.
Yes, other sports have suffered in the professional, over-trained era. But still, you can see Cristiano Ronaldo play football which would have made George Best proud, Ricky Ponting hit cricket shots of Bradman class, Tiger Woods produce artistry under pressure, and Roger Federer play tennis as if Rod Laver had morphed with Pete Sampras.
Turn on rugby and it's as if the Incredible Hulk had morphed with Flippie van der Merwe, with instructions out of a Panzer unit's handbook.
Even league, which is more robotic and less character-filled through mass interchanges and statistic driven coaching and commentating, still enthrals with moments of magic. League is also producing wonder athletes like Greg Inglis, Justin Hodges, Mark Gasnier and Israel Folau who actually get a chance to show their stuff.
Where, oh where, in this World Cup could you point to anything to even remotely compare? The tournament descended to such a point that a rather ordinary movement which led to England having a try rubbed out had to be portrayed as a highlight.
The tournament became an endless array of kicks (many of which were bombs designed to land just outside the 22 metre line) and the ferocious smashing of opponents around the breakdown area. Defensive lines which worked as one and stood flat - a nice word for offside - were the order of the day. It is a struggle here recalling anything that might have rated as a brilliant pass, run or good old linebreak in the sudden death matches.
In contrast, while league hit ups and big hits are the bone crunching foundation of the game, they are also a basis for something far more spectacular at times.
It is the ability of the special sportsmen and women to rise above the enormous physical and mental demands and produce the stuff of our dreams which enthrals.
Yet who in their right mind might have approached rugby's World Cup final on Sunday morning with any confidence that they were about to see a brilliant spectacle, whether they actually got one or not. Drama yes. Dramatics no chance. What happened in Paris on Sunday is the rule and not the exception of top level international rugby.
The pressure of World Cup expectations makes it even worse and like the football equivalent, the tournament tends to grind to a halt in the sudden death phase, even if the pool matches have produced fine moments.
After what happened in Europe over the past six weeks, rugby has now no alternative but to push through the so-called Stellenbosch rule experiments. The warning here though is that what works on a blackboard and at the lower levels might not work once the top coaches, players and their blessed analysts get hold of it.
Which brings us to the other superb point made by former stars of the game. It was almost a relief to read an article quoting the All Black legend Sean Fitzpatrick and the ex-Wallaby front rower Ewen McKenzie, calling on test nations to return to the days of selecting their best teams.
Both decried the World Cup obsession, with Waratahs coach McKenzie saying: "We have got to make test matches meaningful ... the game can't survive if it is only relevant every four years. Someone has to take a lead now and say I'm picking my best team every time we play."
Meanwhile Fitzpatrick said: "Test matches that come in the years in between don't have the same meaning any more, which I don't agree with."
Hooray, and the more this point is pushed the better. We need a game to treasure between World Cups, and that in turn might relieve the pressure when the tournament arrives and so encourage the top sides to play a game that is worth following.
This does raise a tricky issue however, and that is the relationship between the national boards and their coaches.
How, exactly, can the New Zealand Rugby Union ensure - if it wishes - that All Black coaches pick on form and put out their top sides on a regular basis?
In other words, where does the line of authority end?
We had an example this year, in which the South African Rugby Union was rightly criticised for putting Luke Watson into Jake White's squad. This was seen as a case where the administrators crossed a line.
If a coach takes it upon himself to use rotation, B-strength touring squads and so on, what ability does a board have to question his selections.
The right of the coach to run his own game is virtually sacrosanct although there are exceptions, of which Chelsea's owner Roman Abramovich versus his now departed manager Jose Mourinho is an example. There have also been American sports franchise owners who have not only regarded sticking their oar in as a right, but their duty.
There has never been a time in rugby history where the relationship between the administrators and the coaches has been so critical.
Look around the international rugby scene for the past decade (beginning with the ragtag mob which England's Clive Woodward brought here in 1998) and it is clear that running a ridiculously large development system and avoiding head on clashes is often standard among many of the world's top test coaches.
The first part in the equation is a willingness among the men who run the game to put all test rugby back on a pedestal.
Maybe, and this goes against the best coaching strategies, we need a period in which All Black coaches are put on short term contracts.
It would be counter productive, and wrong, for boards to directly influence selections. But if they make the general policy clear, and coaches know they face the sack if the board feels they are resisting, rugby might reclaim its former glory. And it is a former glory. What happened in Paris on Sunday morning and much of what went before must become the exception and not the rule.
