Kris Shannon: Five reasons why World Cups are hard to do right

Fifa president Gianni Infantino, left, and Emir of Qatar Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani shake hands before the World Cup draw in Doha. Photo / AP

OPINION:

1. Choosing a good host

This is important but not a dealbreaker because, as always with major events, the focus on the host ends as soon as the sport starts.

As soon as there’s a shiny object to look at, the host’s charms become secondary and its foibles forgotten. The limits of this will be tested in Qatar but most hosts are at least adequate; that’s why they were chosen. That, or the briefcases full of cash.

But the host can add or subtract value from an event, as seen in the current World Cup glut.

For the rugby, New Zealand is obviously a good host in theory. In practice, when the tournament is not being held in New Zealand but three stadiums in Auckland and Northland, it’s hurt the event by preventing the athletes from seeing the country and the country from seeing the athletes.

For the cricket, Australia is also a no-brainer. A brain would have been valuable, however, in making available the covered Marvel Stadium in Melbourne, with washouts in that city about the only thing detracting from the tournament.

For the league, playing the matches almost exclusively in the north of England — where the sport is as popular as a bacon sarnie — makes for an inspired choice.

2. Inviting the right guests

In both inclusion and omission, this is a massive challenge for most sports.

Think of it like a party: you want the right number of attendees so it’s neither overcrowded nor sad; you want the right mix of guests so there’s variety to keep things interesting; and you want to avoid the losers.

That’s not totally possible with newer or smaller tournaments, which must balance building the game globally with operating an intriguing event, but a limit is needed or the whole neighbourhood will show up.

That’s where qualification tournaments are key. While not every sport can be football and have literally every country on Earth clamouring for an invite, there must be some sorting of the wheat from the chaff.

Too much chaff leads to too many blowouts and too little interest. Or at least I think it does — I don’t know what chaff is.

3. Finding an ideal format

Kane Williamson of New Zealand bats during the ICC Men's T20 World Cup match between Australia and New Zealand. Photo / Getty Images

Blending this and the previous criterion is where the T20 World Cup produces a masterstroke to make Kane Williamson proud. With a two-tiered event that featured an opening round before the big boys arrived, the cricket avoided blowouts and grew interest. No chaff in sight, because I don’t know what it looks like.

A round robin saw eight sides squeezed into four slots, saw dramatic results like Scotland smashing the West Indies and saw the right nations progress on merit to the Super 12 — a high-stakes showdown from which only four teams reached the knockouts.

The format, conversely, diminished from the Rugby World Cup. Not so much the one-sided results and predictability — plenty of tournaments possess those drawbacks — but advancing eight teams from 12 rendered the group stage largely irrelevant.

The reseeding for the quarter-finals then created the odd arrangement of two pool-play rematches, and the excitement didn’t really start until last weekend’s wonderful semifinals.

It’s easy to see why the Rugby League World Cup invited a few too many losers — the ideal number of entrants is 16 or 32. Two teams progress from each pool, then a straight bracket. Neat, effective.

Unless you’re Fifa, and all the money in the world isn’t enough, and then 48 is the ideal number, for now at least.

4. Hopping on the hype train

Through no fault of its own, here’s where rugby is at a serious disadvantage: since the sport itself is too physically taxing, there will never be enough regularity in fixtures.

It’s the same every time a Rugby World Cup reaches the knockouts. It ceases to feel like a tournament at all, becoming a series of tests played over successive weekends.

Nothing can be done there. No one, and I mean not one single soul on this doomed planet, wants teams playing off for minor places, so no extra games can be manufactured. But there must be a better way of building hype and filling dead air in the final weeks.

Why not let higher seeds select their opponents? Make it a Monday show and the storylines will flow. How about, before the semis, holding an awards ceremony with winners voted by the fans? Save the big prizes for the final but have some fun: best try, biggest hit, most ill-advised decision to streak, etc.

5. Be a sport that believes in miracles

This is easy to understand and hard to get right. Predictability is antithetical to a good World Cup, so sports should simply let bad teams be capable of beating good teams.

Unfortunately for the oval-ball codes, it’s particularly difficult. Think about it, what was the biggest upset of these Rugby or Rugby League World Cups? Don’t think about it too long because there wasn’t one.

What was the biggest upset of the T20 World Cup? It’s tough to choose between five contenders. (Not tough to choose South Africa’s choke against the Netherlands as the funniest upset.)

T20 cricket, by its nature, is tremendously fickle and prone to the type of result that rugby and league cannot match. There’s a reason everyone remembers so fondly Japan beating the Springboks in 2015; it’s nearly impossible for the little guy to take down one of the game’s Goliaths.

Whereas in football, results like that happen every tournament. Hell, even New Zealand managed a result like that – and could well manage another when Fifa worsens the best World Cup by inviting us in 2026.