As it turns out, not quite the whole world has stopped for the Rugby World Cup. There I was, in sleepy Kanpur, on the banks of the Ganges River, when I enquired about a good spot to watch last night’s clash between Wales and Australia.
I might as well have been asking if they knew the captain of Kaizer Chiefs, as the tuk-tuk driver gave me a look as vacant as I had when he asked if my hair was really hair. We all learn something new every day, then.
The Rugby World Cup, to this point, has lived up to all the hype, and then some. There have been upsets, excellent crowds, and some heroic displays by the so-called minor nations.
Or second-tier, as the IRB likes to call them. There is no better place than an Indian train to understand the great chasm that exists between classes, even from one to the next. Try and spend an hour in any other carriage other than first-class, and you will soon be begging for the relative calm of Durban’s North Beach during the festive period.
There is simply no room to breathe, and the same feeling of claustrophobia is starting to emerge in the smaller nations, all punching above their weight. There are too many of them living in the “almost there” category.
At some point, one, or even two of them will have to burst through into the elite, and shake up the familiarity of nations that have sat back on their laurels. The world is getting smaller, they say. Well, so too is the sporting world. Given just a slightly bigger slice of the pie, the likes of Japan, US and Romania can build on their natural enthusiasm, and become what Wales used to be just a decade ago.
Remember that? The Dragons may now be a dark horse at every event, but they were cannon fodder not too long ago. They might catch you on an off day, and stretch you until the last quarter, before running out of passion and purpose.
Not anymore. Similarly, Scotland and Argentina have become bona fide members of the big boys’ club. When they defeat a superpower, it doesn’t quite have the same tsunami-like shock that Japan’s dismantling of the Boks did.
There will never be the words to explain how that happened to a rational South African fan, but Japan have reminded the rest of the world that they are improving all the time. Imagine them in 2019, when they host the World Cup, and they have an army behind them.
Cast your eye back to the 2002 Fifa World Cup, in South Korea. Remember the relative obscurity of the hosts before that tournament? The most famous man on their squad list was the coach, Guus Hiddink.
And yet, a month after the start, having made it to the semi-finals, South Koreans were in demand all over the world, and the game accelerated into the mainstream in Asia. That is what the IRB wants with the 2019 World Cup in Japan.
A month ago, we only knew that Japan were coached by the man who helped the Boks win the 2007 World Cup in France. Now, we know they have players of serious pedigree in Japan, and playing in the Super Rugby competition will only make them stronger.
By the time they play the opening game at their new stadium, in 2019, they will be anticipating a victory, regardless of the opposition. The extra player in the stands has often done wonders for national teams with little chance.
Remember Sri Lanka, in the 1996 Cricket World Cup? South Korea, 2002. Generally, hosting galvanises the ordinary, turning them into superstars.
Well, except for Bafana.
And England. Even in Kanpur, they know about England and World Cups.
“England? World Cup?! Oh no, early shower, bye!”