We may know the sport’s future is bright when trendsetters worldwide are wearing Fabien Galthié-style shades

On the surface it was business at usual at this year’s Six Nations launch in a chilly Edinburgh. Had the city’s most famous literary sleuth poked his nose into the venue at the top of the Royal Mile, Inspector Rebus would have clocked the usual suspects: head coaches trying not to divulge any secrets, captains quietly studying their opposite numbers and content creators seeking to “jazz up” their tournament previews.

This year’s booby prize went to the “influencer” who asked Caelan Doris, Ireland’s captain, whether or not he liked Fabien Galthié’s thick-rimmed glasses. It was almost on a par with the Breakdown’s all-time classic: the day someone asked Rob Baxter, Exeter’s director of rugby, to pick his favourite motorway service station. “Taunton Deane,” came the instant reply. “Because it means we’re almost home.” Brilliant.

We turn the dial towards whimsy and revisit some of the moments that made the autumn internationals irresistible

South Africa and Ireland played out a slugfest for the ages and the discourse has been dominated by yellow cards and flying shoulders to the head. England held off a spirited Argentina to claim their 11th consecutive Test win and it seems all anyone can talk about is some alleged after-the-whistle shoving. Wales and New Zealand traded 11 tries in a ding-dong encounter and yet the narrative is weighed down by caveats concerning fading empires.

What, exactly, is the point of Test rugby? Beyond winning World Cups and regional crowns, does this chaotic sport hold any value? A bit of spice elevates almost every dish, sure, but it has felt as if this autumn’s brilliant rugby fare has been smothered in a sauce with a needlessly high Scoville count.