Road issues have been a major problem in the days leading up to the finals, with construction yet to be completed in some areas, while gridlock greeted fans on their way to Soccer City. For some, that meant a frustrating four-hour journey to the stadium.

Huge numbers of empty seats greeted the worldwide television audience as, two hours before kick-off, the opening ceremony took place in front of a stadium that was barely half-full.

And there was one vacant seat whose missing occupant was lamented more than any other; the roads of South Africa had robbed the tournament of the presence of Nelson Mandela.

The motorcade charged with transferring the man known here as Madiba to Soccer City was not stifled by the traffic jams; instead he was mourning the death of his 13-year-old great-granddaughter, Zenani, who was killed in an accident the night before the game.

As a result of his absence, the event lacked some of the emotional edge that comes with the increasingly rare public appearances of South Africa's most revered citizen on what was billed as one of the biggest days in the country's sporting history.

Mandela, therefore, was not on hand to lend his support to Bafana Bafana in the way he had to the Springboks back in 1995 on that other great occasion for South African sport. That was left to president Jacob Zuma - a charismatic leader, but with significantly less credibility than Mandela, or Archbishop Desmond Tutu.

When the formalities began, there was no rousing, roaring singing of the national anthem; rather, the rendition was soft, almost serene and in sharp contrast with the boisterous Mexicans.

Indeed, despite all the bluster about the vuvuzela and its relentless, monotonous droning, it was the Mexican fans who emerged with the most credit from the vocal battle in the stands.

Regular visitors to the World Cup have witnessed before the spirit into which the Mexicans enter the tournament; with their mariachi bands, sombreros and fake moustaches, they unquestionably provide some of the most colourful crowds.

Soccer City was no exception, and the fans - bedecked as usual in the traditional green, white and red - saw the aural audacity of the vuvuzela as a challenge to be overcome rather than cowing to its unrelenting force.

Finding their voice quickly, the Mexicans delivered a rapid repost to the home support, making for an intriguing rather than intimidating atmosphere.

It did not go unnoticed on the pitch.

'It's a positive result, but we were disappointed that many South Africans didn't buy tickets because we were expecting more vuvuzela from the stands,' said goalkeeper Itumeleng Khune.

'It wasn't enough. It was more like Mexico was playing at home than South Africa playing at home, so let's hope on Wednesday we will have more support.

'We were disappointed. It was more like an advantage to Mexico rather than us as the hosts ... We didn't hear the vuvuzelas from the stands; we only heard a few.'

Khune's concerns were shared by his teammate Teko Modise, who had hoped for an atmosphere akin to the one that greeted South Africa at Soccer City's reopening in late May, when they faced Colombia.

'It wasn't as intense as I would have liked because when we played Colombia here it was incredible,' he said. 'We didn't hear the vuvuzela as much as we would have liked.

'We were talking about it in the dressing room and there weren't as many as we expected, but hopefully there will be more turning out for the game against Uruguay.'

The comments - and Khune's in particular - are not unusual in the aftermath of the World Cup's opening game.

Indeed, this was still vibrant and intoxicating compared with Paris in 1998, when an over-proliferation of Fifa's corporate partners combined with French ambivalence to create a tepid backdrop for Brazil's meeting with Scotland.

The point is that opening games rarely encapsulate the true spirit of the World Cup or soccer in the host nation because there are too many corporate types and day-trippers present - it is rarely the domain of the true fan.

These were not, in the main, the supporters who turn out to watch Orlando Pirates and Kaizer Chiefs go head-to-head in the battle between South Africa's two best and most passionately supported clubs.

With ticket prices far beyond the normal going rate for national team games or for matches in the South African Premier League - which usually sell for 20 rand (HK$20) - there was little hope they would ever be invited to the party.

Instead, the real match-day spirit of this World Cup is likely to be found in the supporters' clubs and Fifa-created Fan Fests, those outdoor areas where supporters can gather for free to watch the matches on big screens that proved such a huge success in Germany four years ago.

It was at these viewing parties in the townships of Rockwell and Soweto - along with other venues across the country - that the true spirit of South African soccer was more likely to have been on display.

And despite the players' hopes for a cranking up of the volume in Pretoria for Wednesday's clash with Uruguay, the chances are of a repeat performance - in the stands, if not on the pitch.

Perhaps, this time, the earplugs will be left at home.