The Day I Promised My Mate Brian Paris, and Why I Had to Become an Internet Detective
You know how you end up doing something completely ridiculous for a friend? That’s exactly how I got tangled up in the chaotic, high-stakes world of 2023 Rugby World Cup ticket sales. My mate, Brian, he’s been dreaming of seeing the All Blacks play in France for ages. He cornered me last year, shaking his phone, screaming, “We have to go! You’re good at finding stuff online, you sort the tickets!”

I swear, that man put the fear of God into me. Missing these tickets wasn’t just missing a trip; it was letting down a life-long buddy. So, I dove headfirst into the mission, and let me tell you, finding the actual, concrete “On Sale Date” for RWC 2023 was harder than trying to explain the offside rule to a new fan.
Hitting the Official Wall: Fluff and Filtered Content
My first move was obvious. I opened my laptop, slammed the keyword “2023 Rugby World Cup tickets sale date” into the search bar, and clicked on the official French organizing committee’s site. Immediately, I ran into a digital wall.
The site was gorgeous. High-production videos, sweeping drone shots of stadiums, and big, bold graphics about “Passion” and “Legacy.” It was pure marketing fluff. I scrolled and scrolled past interviews with former players, past merchandise promos, and past three different ways to sign up for a newsletter that promised nothing but more fluff.
They kept talking about “Phases” and “Pre-registration.” I hated the ambiguity. I needed a day, a month, and a time zone. Not a philosophy lecture. I spent a solid 45 minutes just clicking link titles that had words like “FAQ” or “Terms.” Nope. All circular logic designed to force you to sign up for their database so they could spam you later.
Changing Tactics: From Consumer Search to Corporate Spy
I realized I was searching like a hopeful consumer, but the information was hidden like a trade secret. They don’t want everyone hitting the site at once unless they are already registered for a specific phase.

I switched my strategy. I stopped looking for the ticket page and started looking for press releases. I typed things like “Organizing Committee Announcement September 2021” and “France 2023 Ticketing Strategy.” I filtered Google search results to show PDFs and older news articles. This is where the truth usually leaks out, buried in corporate speak.
I stumbled upon a release—it was primarily aimed at corporate partners and French sports reporters—that broke down the timeline in agonizing detail. This document unpacked the entire scheme, which was split into three main public stages, spread out over nearly two years:
- The Club France Pre-Sale: This was the ultimate early access. You had to join an exclusive fan club first, which cost a bit of money and required an immediate sign-up. This wave targeted “Packs” (three or more matches). I missed this by weeks, cursing Brian for not nagging me sooner.
- Team Pack Sales (The Big Wave 1): This was the general public’s first real shot. But you couldn’t buy single matches yet. You had to buy a package following a specific team through the pool stages. The document nailed down the date: September 13, 2021.
- Individual Match Sales (The Big Wave 2): This was the jackpot for guys like me who only wanted to cherry-pick a quarter-final or a specific group match. The release slotted this date in as: April 5, 2022.
That breakdown was gold. It meant if I wanted those highly coveted single match tickets, I had to wait until April 2022, but I knew exactly when the clock would start ticking.
Setting the Alarm: Conversion is King
Finding the date is only half the battle. You have to be ready right when they flip the switch. I knew based on the documentation that the sales were slated to start at 6 PM Paris time (CET) on both those key dates.
I immediately pulled up a time zone converter. I figured out that 6 PM in Paris meant 1 AM the next day where I live in Australia. That meant sleepless nights, staring at my screen, battling bots and thousands of other frantic fans.

I didn’t just set one alarm. I set four. One for 11 PM for coffee preparation. One for 12:30 AM for logging in and clearing the cache. One for 12:55 AM for praying. And the main one for 1:00 AM sharp. I told Brian he owed me three months of high-grade coffee for the effort I was putting in.
I printed out the official press release snippets that contained the timeline and taped them to my monitor. I rehearsed the motions: which matches I wanted, which packages I could tolerate if the singles sold out, and what my budget was. I shared this meticulous plan with Brian, proving to him that I wasn’t just guessing; I had extracted the required data from the belly of the beast.
The Lesson Learned: Patience and Deep Diving Pays Off
The actual sale day, months later, was exactly as hectic as predicted. But because I had done the homework—because I ignored the flashy banners and dug into the obscure announcements—I was ready. I didn’t waste time hunting for the link; I knew exactly where the queue started and exactly what time zone mattered.
I secured two sets of individual match tickets that night, including the specific quarter-final Brian had been raving about. The process was a nightmare, the website lagged, and I nearly threw my keyboard across the room, but we got them. And it all came down to abandoning the front page and becoming a corporate document hunter to find that single, vital piece of information: April 5, 2022, 6 PM CET.
So, if you’re looking for tickets to any massive global event, don’t just look for the sales page. Track down the press kit, find the corporate strategy PDF, and convert that damn time zone immediately. Your mates—and your sanity—will thank you.

