Even at $220bn, World Cups are tremendous value. No other sporting event on the planet brings as many people together at one time as the World Cup final. No other sporting event produces moments and heroes that become iconic to billions of people.
Despite the multi-pool efforts of cricket and the one-game-per-week provisos of rugby, no other World Cup seems to go on as long either. Twenty-four days separated Morocco and Croatia's dour 0-0 group game and their third-fourth place play-off. Given all that happened in between, it felt like two months.
Given the time-tunnel effect of so much football and so much drama, it feels like a million years ago when journalist Jon Sopel quoted a source close to the Qatari ruling family on the News Agents podcast.
"Nothing good has come to us as a result of this. And this has all been a giant waste of money, and I wish it would all just go away, but it can't," paraphrased Sopel, adding that the general consensus was that the tournament had, after just three days, "gone to s**t in so many ways".
Well, after Sunday's final, I would say they are happy they stayed the course and did not pack up their tent-shaped Al Bayt stadium and tell the world to go home.
Those first few days had seen the 'OneLove' armbands stand-off, the last-minute decision to ban the sale of alcohol at the grounds and also the bizarre 'I feel gay' speech from FIFA president Gianni Infantino.
Then you had the broadcasters, such as RTÉ, who had shelled out large sums to televise the tournament, using their opening broadcasts to discuss all the issues that left many people asking if this World Cup was not a toxic event: the deaths of migrant workers, LGBTQ+ rights and questions around how the bid was won.
Despite TV companies addressing these issues, viewers in certain European countries stayed away in their droves, and by 23 November, there was seemingly enough negative publicity to make the Qatari rulers wonder if they had not made a terrible miscalculation.
After their defeat to Ecuador, it became apparent that Qatari football fans don't always stay to the bitter end, if they did, they would have known than, with a World Cup, at some stage the football takes over and that is exactly what happened.
Thanks to the exploits of Japan, Morocco, Saudi Arabia, Richarlison, Canada, Cameroon, Chesney Hawkes and all the rest, those 'issues' were eventually shunted to the background.
And then you had Sunday. Two stars for Qatar's Paris-St Germain leading their nations into a final with history on the line. The narratives were irresistible - would Kylian Mbappe lead France to back-to-back titles or would Leo Messi finally win the World Cup his stellar career was seemingly owed.
The latter fairytale was delivered after a World Cup final that will go down in the annals as possibly the greatest ever, with the Argentinian wizard scoring two goals in a 3-3 epic, before nonchalantly slotting home the first penalty in the shootout.
But there is another image, from the presentation ceremony so long that it had to be held on a stage in the shape of the infinity symbol, that was the culmination of more than a decade's lobbying and political manouevring
Messi's Instagram post showing him, on his team-mates' shoulders, lifting the World Cup in front of the fans in the Lusail Stadium is now the most liked ever on Instagram. More than 60 million social media users have appreciated that photograph of unbridled joy at a life's work fulfilled.
But there is another image, from the presentation ceremony so long that it had to be held on a stage in the shape of the infinity symbol, that was the culmination of more than a decade's lobbying and political maneuvering.
It shows Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani, Emir of Qatar, Infantino and Messi - World Cup in hand and clad in a ceremonial robe put on him by the Emir, his overall boss at PSG - making their way to the already dancing Argentinian squad.
Here is the defining image of the Qatar World Cup, as far as FIFA and the Emir are concerned. This is a portrait of soft power so striking it could hang in the museum of geopolitics.
Argentina did it in 1978, Russia did it in 2018, Saudi Arabia are doing it as we speak with boxing, golf, the Asian Winter Games, a touted Olympics bid and an expected 2030 World Cup salvo that will have Lionel Messi as one of its salesmen, despite the fact Argentina will also be bidding.
Qatar, the quiet, small and exceedingly wealthy younger brother of the Middle East have put themselves on the map and created a legacy for a one-city nation defined by natural gas and the trappings of wealth that come with it.
FIFA have allowed the World Cup to become a tool of soft power and for that Damien Duff believes they are the real villain of the piece as their "lack of morals and integrity is incredible".
Infantino and FIFA - who have posted record profits for this four-year cycle - have shown in the last two months that they are capable of delivering the World Cup that the hosts want and there is no doubt that others, for whom money is no object, are taking notes.
And it is not just about 'sportswashing' or improving one's image in the eyes of the rest of the world. If it was, little anonymous Qatar would have kept their head down as the gas pumped. It's about projecting an image, making your country relevant on the world stage and perhaps winning friends and allies who might otherwise hold their nose.
And it is not reserved for nation states. Individuals with enough money and influence can also attach themselves to sportspeople like limpets for their own benefit.
How else to explain celebrity chef and purveyor of over-priced gold-flaked steaks Nusret Gokce (AKA Salt Bae) stalking Messi around the pitch in Doha like a lovesick teen.
There is footage of the internet celebrity tugging at Messi's jersey more than any French defender did and the expression on Messi's face when he clocked who it was suggested the Turkish chef was close to being called 'bobo' by the 35-year-old idol, who should have been surrounded at this moment only by his team-mates, family and friends.
But Gokce had the connections to acquire the accreditation that could get him on the pitch (he's good friends with Infantino) and he had the gall to use his access to harass the Argentinian captain into eventually posing for a picture. He even got to hold the World Cup trophy, something only past and present winners and heads of state are supposed to do.
But the World Cup, the tournament and the trophy itself, is accessible now. For those with the means it is a useful tool of self-promotion.
For the billions of us who love it for something more simple, we may need less of the salt but instead a spoonful of sugar to swallow that reality.
