Recently, Major League Rugby commissioner Dean Howes called rugby union “a great stadium sport”.

After three rounds of America’s MLR season two, Nola Gold lead the ladder unbeaten. They play at Archbishop Shaw in New Orleans, home to high-school football, not yet by any standards a great sports stadium. Bleachers and park fencing sit either side of a simple turf field, rugby lines marked in yellow.

Elsewhere, teams play at minor-league ballparks (Austin Elite, Rugby United New York, Houston SaberCats for now) or small multisport arenas (Seattle Seawolves, Toronto Arrows, San Diego Legion, Utah Warriors). Only the Glendale Raptors have a purpose-built home, although Houston are building another. One way to tell Infinity Park near Denver was made for rugby is that the markings on the pitch are clear: there are no soccer penalty boxes or lacrosse creases to confuse the casual viewer.

Howes’ quote to the AFP, however, should be run in full. “I think rugby has the potential to be a top-tier sport. It’s a great stadium sport. It’s fun to watch. It’s a great exciting game that’s in constant motion. Rugby has the attributes of a sport that translates very well in person and on TV. We just need to convert more people to the sport. And as we expose more people to the sport, we will convert them.”

Conversions – and tries, penalties and drop goals, obviously – are what MLR is all about. And on this Six Nations rest weekend, European fans and fans elsewhere should be prepared to give it a go. Thanks to Facebook, which streams games internationally while CBS Sports Network, ESPN+ and local providers take care of business Stateside, they can. To catch up, there’s also a well-stocked YouTube channel.

San Diego Legion 23-25 Rugby United New York.

One cold dark night in late January, fans in New York watched their team make their MLR debut. The game was thousands of miles away in San Diego so the Pig and Whistle on West 36th was busy. There was a watch party upstairs and an array of screens downstairs. A slice of the committed New York City rugby community was there, happily drunk and drunker.

But there were also locals, surprised but intrigued by the game on the screens and the convivial noise in the bar. A couple of Knicks fans stopped in, on the way to watch their team lose to Miami at Madison Square Garden nearby. One tapped the Guardian on the shoulder.

“This rugby?”

Variations of the question, prompted by on-field calls, were asked by a friend in from Mamaroneck and generously keen to learn. Yes, he’s allowed to hit him like that. No, he’s not allowed to do that with the ball on the floor. Who knows why that was a penalty at the scrum: your guess is as good as mine.

So much for rugby’s fiendish minutiae. The main impression was that the product looked good – Torero Stadium is a neat college facility with good camera angles – and was fast and action-packed.

It was also raw as hell, with tackles missed, passes dropped and kicks scuffed or sliced. But at this stage in MLR’s life, that was a wonderful thing.

At a key point in the second half, San Diego fly-half Joe Pietersen made a slashing break from his own half and went 60 thrilling metres, New Yorkers skittering after him. Eventually they staunched the flow, because Pietersen didn’t put his wing away for the score. Along with a potentially contentious penalty try, it was enough to give RUNY a debut win.

Looking on, it seemed inescapable that in the English Premiership, or in the Pro 14, or in France, or even in Super Rugby, 99 times in 100 Pietersen would not have made that break. He would have stepped, perhaps, but he would have stepped right into a proper clattering, squashed by some hulking blindside monster.

MLR defences are not so organised and the bodies that staff them are not so big and fit. And so, with a shimmy and a flash, Pietersen was off to be chased and brought to ground. It was great stadium sport.

Nola Gold 40-31 Glendale Raptors.

In every sense, MLR is rugby in the raw. In New Orleans, fans can sit on a bleacher and shuck an oyster and watch internationals like USA No8 Cam Dolan smash about a few short yards away. Years ago, I got to watch England v Italy from the touchline at Twickenham, surviving to report that Danny Grewcock running into Mark Giacheri makes a noise like some undersea tectonic belch. MLR offers that kind of immediacy week in, week out.

Perhaps it won’t always do so. This year the league is up to nine teams from seven; the salary cap, still tiny in international terms, has increased; and each team can have 10 foreign players, up from five in year one. Progress necessitates diversity: Canadians don’t count as foreigners but Irishmen, Frenchmen, Uruguayans and Ben Foden do. Next year, Old Glory DC, New England Free Jacks and an as yet unnamed Atlanta team will enter, stretching the talent pool further.

Howes has said the model is Major League Soccer: steady growth from grass roots to the big(ish) time. If MLR achieves that, its players will move further away from their fans.

But for now they are very close indeed, in a pro competition tied close to the old club game. It’s not a new idea: PRO Rugby, which ceased after one season in 2016, also tried to capture the corinthian spirit. But it is evidently a strong idea, creating a unique product we may one day mourn for lost.

In America, rugby union is a great club sport that dreams of filling the greatest stadiums. Worldwide, fans can watch it try for free.