That's the overall total for one tournament overtaken in a couple of weeks of this one. As ever, though, statistics are like spinach . . . you can use them for anything but they ultimately boil down to nothing.

This World Cup hasn't seen the net dance significantly more than those that have gone before. It has just felt that way. That's been the pleasure of it.

We've been spoilt, really. Most World Cups, we get to this point having taken the rough and hoping for the smooth to come.

Ever since the tournament grew to 32 teams, those watching have accepted that the group stages will throw up not just matches but whole days of drudgery, to be sat through just for fear of missing the 20 minutes of quality or excitement buried deep within them. It's the price of doing business.

But not this time. This time, so full of running have most of the teams been when they've hit the ground, a few of them have almost fallen over. With the possible exception of two of the matchdays so far . . . England games during both, strangely enough . . . there has been something to treasure in every day of the tournament.

Take the week just gone. On Sunday, it was Brazil beginning to putter into gear against Australia. Monday's child was Fernando Torres, with Cesc Fabregas close behind. Tuesday was an England day but even then, the second-half of their game against Sweden was at least entertaining. On Wednesday, Holland and Argentina gave us proof that a scoreless draw can still be a mini-classic while a few hours south, the Ivory Coast and Serbia and Montenegro were splitting five goals, nine yellow cards, two red ones and a late, late penalty between them. Thursday served up a night of tension and trauma between Australia and Croatia as well as another rollicking ride on the Ghana roller-coaster. All this before we started the knock-out stages yesterday.

If there's been a common theme, it's been that those who have sat back, those who've clung to caution like a life-belt, have for the most part been punished for it. When Ukraine got a thrashing from Spain on their first day out, it was because they tried to flood their midfield and hope Andriy Shevchenko managed to filch something on a breakaway. It was only in their second match against Saudi Arabia that they remembered the 25 goals in 12 games they'd scored in qualifying and cut loose. They have a real chance of making the quarter-finals now.

Think back too to when Poland pitched the tents for a draw against Germany despite knowing that their defeat to Ecuador in the opening game meant they almost certainly needed a win, and were mugged by Oliver Neuville's last minute winner. The rhythm of the tournament has been such that it was impossible to have any sympathy for them that night in Dortmund. Granted, they'd had a man sent off with 15 minutes to go but even so, it was hard to make a case for them hanging on for the draw. They knew Ecuador would be playing . . . and likely beating . . .

Costa Rica the next day so a draw was going to be of limited use to them. Watching them two nights after Ghana had given Italy a real run for it and the night after Croatia had scared the life into Brazil, you had to wonder what Poland were waiting for. The next World Cup?

In this one, that isn't how things are done. You get on with it and you have a go.

You're the Ivory Coast, destitute on zero points after losing your first two matches, two goals down to Serbia and Montenegro in your final one and with your best player on the bench. Instead of sliding meekly out, you engineer a comeback seemingly from nowhere, tearing at the European side until they give in with a silly handball in the box three minutes from time. You go home with head held high and the hopes of all who watched that you make it back next time.

Or better still, you're Australia, 2-1 down to a Croatian side who are strong and physical and seemingly immune to prosecution from a referee who's losing his grip on the game with every passing minute. He's given you one penalty where he might have given four and the Croat goalkeeper is having one of those nights where everything is sticking and the crowd is bubbling like a chemistry experiment about to go wrong. But you find inspiration in, of all places, the heart . . . yes, the heart . . . of Harry Kewell. He stands up and stands out, scores the equaliser and demands possession to slow the rest of the game down. This World Cup is doing the strangest things.

And the goals. Oh, the goals. Remember at the end of 2002 when it was a struggle to come up with a goal-of-the-tournament shortlist without it being very short indeed?

There was Dario Rodriguez's volley from a corner against Denmark and Ronaldinho's free-kick against David Seaman and a lovely flowing move by Senegal finished off by Salif Diao also against Denmark.

But for a tournament that threw up 161 goals, genuine jump-off-your-seat affairs were thin enough on the ground.

Here, again, it's different. Both weeks have offered enough for a top 10 of their own, never mind of the tournament. If we take it that Argentina's second against Serbia and Montenegro . . . there's no point really in attributing it to Esteban Cambiasso, is there? . . . was among the best we're likely to see over the course of a lifetime and hand it the award here and now, we're still left with enough contenders to fill both sides of a DVD.

How's this for a list? Phillip Lahm and Thorsten Frings v Ecuador; Javier Saviola v Ivory Coast; Carlos Tenorio v Poland; Robin van Persie v Ivory Coast; Andrea Pirlo v Ghana; Chun Soo Lee v Togo; Steven Gerrard v Trinidad and Tobago; Sami Al-Jabar and Yasser Al-Khatami v Tunisia; Tomas Rosicky (twice) v USA; Fernando Torres v Ukraine and v Tunisia; Tim Cahill v Japan; Kaka v Croatia; Gyan Asamoah v Czech Republic; Joe Cole v Sweden; Maniche v Mexico; Clint Dempsey v Ghana; Ronaldo v Japan; Keiji Tamada v Brazil; Dario Srna v Australia. Don't worry if you don't remember them all.

You'll be seeing them again before the end.

All we're missing now are the shocks.

Ghana turning over the Czechs probably doesn't count, South Korea grabbing a draw with France hardly does it either.

Trinidad and Tobago's draw with Sweden just about passes for one, although it feels wrong to call a draw a shock, especially in soccer.

Maybe, after all the first round has given, shocks are what the knock-out stages have in store. Take it away, Ecuador.