A doctor, a policy researcher and a marine biologist walk into a bar…at 4:30 in the morning.

We were sandwiched between two elderly ladies sipping cups of Earl Grey, and a dozen young men dressed patriotically in All Blacks t-shirts, downing triple-shot flat whites faster than the barista could keep up. Every table, chair and wall was occupied. The inner city establishment had been fully booked out by the Wednesday before. And with 20 minutes still to go before kick off, any space left was standing room only.

“Anything you need, just give me a wave. We’re a little busier than usual”, exclaimed our cheery waitress, giving us a cheeky wink. “So if you see me running around like a headless chicken, crying hysterically, don’t worry. We’re a wee bit short-staffed; we could only get one man in the kitchen this early”.

Wait-staff were astounding in their efficiency and competence. In spite of the one-manned-kitchen, the speed with which cooked breakfasts were delivered defied all logic. The patrons themselves were jovial and accommodating.

That bars would be permitted to open during the wee hours for the sake of screening rugby matches was not without its sceptics.

But the act was welcomed by bar owners, who would otherwise have had to leap through hoops of fire to obtain special licenses. Prior to being passed, police had objected to World Cup special license applications. International rugby matches it was argued, did not justify special licenses.

Despite the visceral opposition and ominous warnings from the Medical Association, Alcohol Healthwatch and the Police, civil society as we know it did not go up in flames. In fact, ACT MP David Seymour’s initiative allowing extended hours during the Rugby World Cup was rather an overwhelming success.

Few events are capable of uniting an entire nation. Major sporting tournaments are one of them. And Seymour’s act demonstrated the ability of Kiwis to celebrate rugby together in a completely responsible manner.

The collective uproar resulting from Beauden Barrett’s match-sealing try was roundly followed by enthusiastic high-fives and hugs between total strangers.

The only real casualties were a few spilt cappuccinos and fallen hash browns, lost excitedly in the moment.

As we left the bar some three hours later, orders for celebratory lagers were being swiftly placed. And at least one tray of a dozen tequila shots was spotted through the elated crowd.

But hey, a record third World Cup win warrants a proper celebration, doesn’t it?