In five tests featuring Pacific Island teams in recent weeks, a return of one spectacularly memorable, thunderous tackle feels like a giant rip off.
But that's all we got — one superbly timed and executed tackle by Fijian captain Levani Botia on Damian McKenzie in Dunedin was the sole moment in 400 minutes of rugby — 480 if we include the New Zealand Māori game against Samoa — that was recognisable as quintessentially Pasifika.
Rugby in this part of the world has been built on a culture of aggressive, chest-high tackling that rocks ball carriers to the core.
Samoa put the South Pacific on the map back at the 1991 World Cup with their Exocet ability to use defence as offence and to terrify the Northern Hemisphere rugby fraternity that had never seen anything like it.
What became undeniable this month is that this particular piece of rugby tapestry has been removed — sanctioned out of the game by a global governing body that is determined to throw red cards at what it feels is an endemic problem of high tackling.
But it now seems like World Rugby is fighting a plainly mad war, where good intentions are far outweighed by erratic and nonsensical strategies.
The inconsistencies of World Rugby's thinking and application of the law by their referees is going to end in thousands of fans giving up on the game and not a single international player being or even feeling any safer.
It would be interesting to hear if there is anyone on the planet who felt New Zealand referee Ben O'Keeffe made the right call to send off Marika Koroibete five minutes into the third test between Australia and France.
The Wallabies wing, in real time and in most of the endless slow motion replays, appeared to make a legal and impressive hit on French captain Anthony Jelonch.
It looked like a shoulder-to-shoulder contact and with enough impact to see the Frenchman drop the ball before he seemed to realise that if he put his hand to his face, he could perhaps be in the market for a penalty or even elicit a card against his aggressor.
It was a staggering decision by O'Keeffe to show a red card — when Jelonch clearly dipped his head, the contact point appeared to be his shoulder and the final insult was the accusation that Koroibete had run in from a distance.
Of course he'd run from a distance — he was chasing a kickoff, timed his arrival perfectly, and in another world, he would have won his side a scrum and inflicted a bit of psychological damage for jarring Jelonch like that.
What made the whole red card business in Brisbane yet more farcical is that earlier in the week, Springboks halfback Faf de Klerk thundered into British and Irish Lions flanker Josh Navadi — seemingly making a head-to-head contact and was shown only a yellow.
In Hamilton, Ardie Savea was again playing without a mouthguard and so we have referees pretty much making things up as they go along and World Rugby unable to put in place a simple law that says a critical safety device such as a mouthguard must be worn.
No wonder there was just the one big, full-on hit in New Zealand this July — tackling with that quintessential Pasifika desire to make it felt just isn't worth it at the moment.
World Rugby wants to depower the collisions that define the game as opposed to introducing measures that would go some way to providing an effective and consistent framework to reduce the risk of players suffering damaging and lasting head injuries.
Introducing a global season would be a huge step in the battle to reduce head injuries. One unified season would mean players could have a longer off-season to condition and play fewer games.
Putting limits on the amount of contact training anyone can do in a week would be another big step.
Pulling the offside line back so defensive teams have to be a clear metre if not two or maybe even five behind the hindmost foot would reduce the number of head-on tackles in a game.
It would, so coaches say, inevitably lead to less carnage at the breakdown as fewer bodies would be there and the need for players to smash in to move people would be less.
And they could say no mouthguard, no play. But instead we have red card mania and a game that increasingly won't look like the game everyone wants to see.