Cracks are appearing in the edifice of this World Cup.

It was all going well, now it isn't.

No, I am not referring to allegations published on Wednesday that Kiwi fans are abusing followers of other nations, because until I experience that in person, I won't believe it.

No, it's nothing to do with the weather because in tropical Dunedin, it's brightened up. It's not to do with the Thai meal we had Wednesday night that I wouldn't have fed to Harvey and Dougie, my labradors.

It's not even to do with the shocking money-grubbing of New Zealand hoteliers, even though they are the worst I have ever experienced. You pay in advance for a room in Auckland, for a week, at astronomical prices. Then your employer, who is paying the bill, asks you to divert to follow a different story (England v Romania, instead of the planned New Zealand v France. Sound of loud sobbing).

So you ask to stay in the hotel of that same hotel group for that week, in Dunedin, on the days you booked in Auckland. Will they allow you to transfer what you have paid to the new hotel, in the same group? No, you have to pay astronomical prices for two hotels for the same nights, no refund. They might be called Scenic, but their view is abysmal.

It's not you Kiwis in general that are the problem, you are hanging on well. Down at the Duke of Wellington where we gather to watch the big screen when the rugby is in other towns, the landlord's mum gives us homemade pies on the house. All good, all good.

What's worrying me increasingly are our loved little brothers; the tier-two and three teams, the bunch who are not in the old elite but who we depend on for colour, shocks, freshness, underdogs and without whom we cannot, repeat cannot, have a great World Cup. And where, for heaven's sake, is the new Argentina, the team to take big scalps? No sign.

The news is bad. Four years on, and with worthy and well-intentioned IRB funding (this is not an anti-IRB story, it is just a sad one), we would have expected all the small nations to have improved.

But let's take stock of RWC 2011 to date. Namibia are roughly the same; Georgia are clearly better; Canada are much better (so far) and USA very reasonable though both the North American teams have massive opponents still to play.

But Russia are worse than we thought, and have Australia and Ireland still to play. Romania began well but disintegrated against Argentina and will be socked by England tomorrow by 50 plus; Japan are magnificently brave but cannot compete.

The Pacific nations are a sad story. Samoa, in my opinion, are roughly on a par with four years ago; but they were well beaten in the end by a mediocre Welsh performance and still have South Africa to play. I expected them to be much better.

Fiji and Tonga still have time, but at present it seems that Fiji are not remotely that wonderful 2007 bunch than came within one tackle (by J P Pietersen) of taking the lead inside the last 12 minutes of the quarterfinal against South Africa after cutting the Boks to pieces in the second half. And all this after beating Wales with glorious brilliance.

In 2007, Tonga under the great Nili Latu, were remarkable, testing South Africa, fighting toe to toe with England yet not as head-bangers, but as a sophisticated rugby team. This time, if you take away the courage, there is not much beneath.

We will have no nation from outside the Six Nations or the new Four Nations in the quarterfinals - every result bar the Ireland win over Australia has been predictable.

At the time of writing I do not know the margin of the South African win over Namibia. But what will the score be at tonight's Australia v USA match? England--Romania? Ireland-Russia? Wales-Namibia? Australia--Russia? And so on.

Maybe I am being joyless. There is not one single team here that has not entertained us richly (well, maybe one). There is not one team that has not given every shred, or added something with its play, culture, or supporters. Every game has been worth watching for one reason or another.

However, the drawback is that very few have been worth watching for the potential of being happily, noisily shocked.

Predictability is the thief of drama, and bullying of the smaller brothers is just unedifying.

* Stephen Jones is the chief rugby writer for the Sunday Times in the UK.