Snedden may want to kiss Samoan shoes

Whatever the concerns the New Zealand Rugby Union may have about their prospects in the upcoming Rugby World Cup, it’s probably nothing compared to Rugby World Cup CEO, Martin Snedden, and his colleagues.

They have been quietly praying that their targets for ticket sales would recover amidst the aftershocks of Canterbury and the ongoing tremors of a worldwide recession amongst the sporting public.

The sale of the millionth ticket of a 1.6 million total was recently lauded as a milestone, eight weeks out from the start of the tournament.

Two weeks ago, a somewhat rugby-weary (wary?) New Zealand population was again exhorted to come out and support the stadium of four million and snap up tickets in the most recent ballot. Around the world, more rugby fans were encouraged to consider raiding their piggy banks and visit New Zealand to support their team in September and October.

Or maybe that should just be September.

A rugby world cup held in the home of the world’s acknowledged No 1 team has its attractions – and its drawbacks. Who wouldn’t want to see the famed all in black team playing with pomp surrounded by their fanatical supporters at their famous Eden Park citadel?

On the other hand, who wants to travel to a country where the SANZAR superpowers are lining up to decide which of their teams takes home the Webb Ellis, and which of the rest would serve as useful cannon fodder along the way, with an occasional nod to the Poms or Frogs as possible fellow travellers?

By the time October rolls around, goes the accepted wisdom, it’ll be the Big Five rugby nations (the Smug Five) fitting their comfortable arses into their regular plush seats for the finals stage of the Cup.

Up to last Friday, it was all looking a bit predictable, and even for the NH-based fans who’d be watching at home, getting up at six am in some cases to watch their team being overrun – again – wasn’t the most enticing prospect.

Better to watch the edited highlights over a cup of tea before switching on a re-run of the Beverly Hillbillies and fantasise about that nice blond pig-tailed girl, Elly May Clampett, rather than suffer nightmares of the less appealing, dreadlocked Ma’a Nonu.

And then Saturday night arrived in Sydney.

And Manu Samoa decided to tear up the script, led by demon-in-chief, Alesana Tuilagi.

Tuilagi tore it up with a scorching 70 metre run, scoring and roaring his delight at a stunned Australian crowd. And then he ran into a few Wallaby hides. And kept going. And ran over a few more of them. And his Samoan team mates followed suit with three more tries. Mayhem and celebrations followed 80 minutes later.

24 hours later, and the Samoan PM was saying that they could win the Rugby World Cup. No-one begrudged him. Everyone was smiling at their success (except for a few thousand woebegone Wallaby fans), and at the opportunity for other nations to believe: we could do that too.

The world number two became the world number three overnight. Heads and hopes were raised a little higher and the prospect of a more open and more competitive Rugby World Cup begins to look more likely on the cards.

Who says Samoa, Argentina, Italy or Scotland, Wales or Fiji mightn’t travel a little further? What price an equally big upset for another of the Smug Five?

And maybe, just maybe, a few thousand more reluctant fans might make the journey to the land of the long white cloud – travelling in hope and some righteous Samoan-forged expectation.

Thanks to Manu Samoa, the Rugby World Cup looks a little more interesting.

And somewhere in a small Wellington office, maybe Martin Snedden is starting to feel a little more hopeful and breathe a little easier – those tickets might just sell out yet.