It is easy to sound pompous at the start of big tournaments. The 2.3 million tickets sold, the massive global audience and the sheer size of the prize can be hard to resist. Before rugby union’s latest mega-show begins on Friday night, you can almost feel an entire sport’s shirt buttons straining to cope with its continuing expansion. The scope for today’s modern hulks to transform perceptions during this World Cup is incredible.
Hence the reason why those of us who suspect the oval-ball game will never have a better chance to display its virtues are both excited and apprehensive. In theory, all the necessary pillars are in place: competitive matches from day one; genuine uncertainty in the pool stages; a home nation on the up; at least half a dozen other potential winners; virtually full stadiums in a favourable European time zone; good-humoured volunteers; wall-to-wall media coverage. The only nagging caveat is a familiar one: will it convert the nonbelievers who still like to perceive union as a pastime for meatheads or hoorays?
No matter that union has now been professional for 20 years and is scarcely recognisable at the top level in terms of fitness, pace, all-round skill and body shape. When people talk about 2015 being the biggest World Cup of all time, they mean it in triplicate: commercially, competitively and numerically. Those who last visited Twickenham when it was a green-timbered old cabbage patch would not believe the gleaming modern edifice, now cloaked in pink, blue and lime livery, about to stage the opening game of England against Fiji.
The challenge, therefore, is to stage a tournament that justifies the hype; to aim high and think bigger. That does not mean glossing over the cracks – concussion awareness, steroid abuse at lower levels, financial inequality, salary cap scandals – but rather aspiring to show the world what rugby nirvana – or its nearest human equivalent – looks like. Does the sport really want to revert to its familiar role as football’s little winter cousin or does it fancy a growth spurt? If it is the latter, the next six weeks will be a critical step in that journey.
So what type of World Cup should we crave? An inclusive one, for starters. One that embraces travelling players and supporters, rather than leaving them to entertain themselves in featureless suburban hotels. Come on, Croydon, show those frowning Frenchmen a good time. Crank it up, Darlington, and give the All Blacks lifelong memories. This cannot be a World Cup defined only by England’s results. As New Zealand reminded us four years ago, World Cups should not stand or fall on the fortunes of one nation.
In fact, three of the past six competitions – South Africa 1995, France 2007 and New Zealand 2011 – have been as memorable for the human backdrop to the tournament as the on-field drama. The awakening of a new South Africa, the widespread en fête enthusiasm of the French, the unfailing generosity of New Zealanders large and small … all have set England a distinctly high bar. Only in 1999 – too widely spread, not particularly well organised – has there been a sense of regret at what might have been.
So, no lying back and thinking merely of England. New Zealand remain my marginal favourites to lift the Webb Ellis Cup on the evening of 31 October but, as Warren Gatland and others have stressed, this should be the tightest race there has ever been. In no particular order, Australia, South Africa, Ireland, Wales, France and England can all beat each other on any given day; even Argentina could be Jeremy Corbyn-style bolters if they catch the All Blacks cold at Wembley on Sunday. That really would turn the tournament on its head, assuming Fiji have not already managed it on night one.
The fiendish whirlpool that is Pool A, featuring four teams in the top nine of the international rankings, is tantalising enough on its own. Whoever emerges on top can expect a smoother path to the final; the runner-up a significantly rougher one. And the third-placed nation? Let us just say the postmortems will make England’s sticky 2011 campaign look an unqualified triumph.
Another hunch is that England and Australia will narrowly scramble out alive. Failure would scar both nations indefinitely. Beyond that it is hard to predict anything with certainty, other than the obvious: that New Zealand’s Julian Savea will probably be the tournament’s leading try-scorer, that Nehe Milner-Skudder, Willie le Roux, Israel Folau and Anthony Watson will catch the neutral eye and that England, under Stuart Lancaster’s patriotic command, will make this the most lucrative moment for St George bunting manufacturers since Euro 96.
Hopefully, too, the players will rise to the occasion and rekindle the exuberant spirit of the 2012 London Olympics, exploding the wisdom that defence and kicking determine who wins major titles. Yet, ultimately, what really counts is how we all feel once it is over. Sometimes rugby does not shout loudly enough about things its supporters take for granted: the absence of crowd segregation, the respect for match officials – most of the time – the grace in defeat, the depth of fellowship, the pride and the passion. Rather than fretting about its imperfections, it should be celebrating the compelling qualities that set the elite game apart: the power, the pace, the ambition, the cunning, the fear and, at times such as this, the global dimension.
Serve all that up, day after day, game after game, and this World Cup cannot fail, even if you fear slightly for Uruguay and Namibia. Add a smile and some decent beer and everyone will be satisfied, aside from Simon Cowell, whose X Factor show is being shunted from Saturday night prime time.
If the hosts make it beyond the pool stages, good on them. More important, make sure you hug a Georgian if you meet one wandering down your local street. And, remember, don’t be pompous. Head down instead to your local rugby club or fanzone and party like it’s 2015. It will be a long time before England plays host to a more vibrant sporting carnival.
