They have to get on in the sixth at Canberra.

They have $1100 left in the kitty for expenses incurred during the World Cup and wisely decide to let all of it ride on Orange Time, a seven-year-old mare, at $7.50.

So here they are, a group of 20 or more men crowded around a phone, yelling and screaming and then high-fiving after Orange Time - bless her - charges home and delivers a windfall of $10,500.

Good punting, Cedars. Very good punting.

It took until the very last minute for Lebanon to take a trick at this World Cup and their plight over the past three weeks exposes the beauty and the bane of the tournament: so good and unifying in many ways, so deficient and amateurish in others.

Lebanon were on the wrong end of shabby refereeing, laughable judiciary hearings and good old-fashioned whinging from the Australians after their pool game in Sydney. They were down on players and it would've been difficult for them to field a side for the next two matches if they progressed.

And still - still! - they almost knocked over Tonga in the quarter-final and could've been playing England in a semi with a sniff of causing an upset against Wayne Bennett's team.

Unlike the so-called superpowers of the rugby league world, the Lebanese players have been living on the bones of their arse. Their allowance of $30 a day doesn't go far. For many players and support staff, it's cost them money because they've put the rest of their lives on hold.

Did they bitch and moan and throw their Kibbeh Nayeh out of the cot? No, they threw an arm around each other, dug in and many were in tears in the dressing rooms after the Tonga defeat, saddened their time together was over.

This deep-seated passion in the jumper - which we've seen across many of the minnow nations - is something rugby league needs to grab hold of.

The game's legion of critics pokes fun at the notion of "international rugby league", but this tournament has shown administrators at all levels there's some gold in them thar hills.

More international footy, at the right time of year, between nations that care about the game. Is it that hard?

The way Jason Taumalolo and Andrew Fifita "defected" from New Zealand and Australia to Tonga at the 11th hour was appalling. Despite this, they have delivered a beautiful storyline that has captivated all of us.

For mine, the best part of the Tonga story isn't what's happening at the stadium but all around New Zealand and Australia, with each victory prompting giddy fans to climb into cars with other Tongans and then create traffic chaos, singing and shouting and furiously waving flags wherever they are.

On Saturday night, after the win over Lebanon, Manly's Corso lit up with a convoy of Tongan folk. Elderly women stood on the side of the road and performed traditional dance as others climbed atop cars and howled at the sky.

Tongan pride: Supporters of the Mate Ma'a hit the streets at Manly Corso after their win over Lebanon. Photo: James Brickwood

One of the images of the World Cup so far belongs to Kevin Naiqama, tears rolling down his face before Fiji's upset 4-2 win over New Zealand to set up their semi-final clash on Friday night with the Kangaroos.

"It hits you all at once, man," Naiqama told PlayersVoice. "Our Fiji Bati emblem reads 'Noqu Kalou Noqu Vanua', which means 'My God My Land'. I think about that. I think about my family, my friends, the players I'm doing this with. Those thoughts flood my mind and it's all over. The tears just flow. To play for our country, our ancestors, the players who have worn this jersey before, it's the best feeling you can have in football."

Channel Seven has done a first-class job in covering the tournament and it's reflected in the numbers with more than 6 million people watching across its channels and devices. On Friday night, 2.2 million tuned in for Australia versus Samoa. Millions more have watched overseas via BBC in Britain, Sky in New Zealand, BeIN Sport in France and other rights holders in Papua New Guinea and the Pacific.

Despite the tournament's success so far, let's not get too carried away. Some of the footy hasn't been great and there have been many blow-outs on the scoreboard. Crowds have been misleading.

Wisely, many games have been held in small-ish stadiums, ensuring sell-outs and heaving crowds.

Meanwhile, New Zealand rugby league is in chaos. In 2015, Australia couldn't beat them in three Tests. We should also accept that their downfall, hastened by the move of Taumalolo and others to Tonga, has opened up the tournament.

Yet the winds of change are in the air and there's already a fear the game's powerbrokers at every level will fail to capitalise.

Emotional: Kevin Naiqama and Fiji celebrate. Photo: Getty Images

The game rarely seems to appreciate the unique position it's in because of the corner of the Pacific it shares. Instead of looking at the possibilities, most debate turns into a shitfight over funding or "eligibility", mostly around State of Origin.

Why not take advantage of this passion we are currently witnessing instead of snubbing it?

A key plank of Shane Richardson's blueprint for new pathways across the game was a renewed focus on international footy, including a year-round world nines competition, much like sevens in rugby. It was scoffed at and howled down by the clubs.

Colleague Steve Mascord's suggestion in Monday's Herald of beefing up the annual clash between Tonga and Samoa seems to be a no-brainer.

But this is just one game. It will require more strategy and co-operation between the ARL, NZRL and the RLF in England to ensure we have the right mix.

As always, it comes down to cash.

The NRL can barely get through to payday at the moment, let alone find extra money in the new $1.8 billion broadcast deal for the international game.

One of the key figures responsible for this tricky financial predicament the NRL finds itself in is outgoing chairman John Grant.

He steps down in February but is already widely expected to take over as RLIF chairman from Nigel Wood, who quite amazingly is expected to become its chief executive following a dramatic change in the federation's constitution.

The thought of Grant slipping into another important role has sickened and alarmed many. Different train, same gravy. Can Grant and Wood be trusted to elevate and take advantage of this renewed passion for international rugby league?

The game doesn't need more blokes in suits handing out trophies. It needs some savvy and polished operators who can work with other stakeholders to get things done.

Otherwise, the RLIF may as well wait to the end of this World Cup, see what's left in the pot and then let the boys from Lebanon to invest as they see fit.