You would think that a city as large and as ugly as Joburg would have learned by now how to stage big events.

Fat chance.

For more than 30 years Ellis Park has hosted Test match rugby and other major fixtures. And it’s still a dog’s breakfast.

Getting to and from the stadium for the South Africa-New Zealand game on Saturday was an exercise in frustration and bother. My instincts tell me this will always be the case, but I foolishly go against my better judgment, somehow hoping the next time will be different.

Traffic is a disaster. The lack of adequate public transport means that 50 000-odd cars head to Doornfontein in search of 10 000 parking spots. Do the maths.

Traffic control is a contradiction in terms with Everyday Joe suddenly adopting the habits of the average taxi driver. Cue chaos and gridlock.

We opted to hop out of our bus – there were no coach lanes, obviously – and hotfoot it from one kilometre away. It was faster, but meant traipsing our way through piss-filled puddles, broken pavements and the detritus so familiar to urban Joburg. Nasty stuff, but the happy banter around us made it tolerable. Barely.

The next challenge was getting into the stadium precinct itself. Our first port of call was the security check, which was horrendously overwhelmed. Two thousand-odd people, many of them kids, were bottle-necked and at a standstill. I’ve seen All Black-Springbok loose mauls that were less physical.

Check one negotiated and it was on to the shiny turnstiles. That’s not strictly true. Test match day, 61 000 people swinging by, and an entire row of the things was out of order. South Africans have the perfect word for this reality: slapgat.

The quality you really need for attending major rugby in Joburg is endurance. A bloody-minded attitude is what was required to then snake through the narrow security point where tickets weren’t scanned, but simply torn in half. This is how stadium disasters happen. They first simmer at the gates.

The legacy of 2010? Pull the other one.

Getting out was no less taxing, but you can imagine the cheery mood with many fans a dozen beers to the good and less than impressed that the Boks had lost. Throw in a couple of cars parked slap-bang in the middle of exit points and you get a sense of the bedlam that ensued. Guys were proper woes.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have attended big-time sport in many countries. I once took in an American Football game at Metlife Stadium (82 500 capacity) in New Jersey two years ago. It took us 10 minutes to get in, park and hand over our tickets.

(It did take us two hours to find the car later, but that was our fault).

The Johannesburg experience, which includes FNB Stadium, is unquestionably the most miserable, soul-destroying experience of them all. The average rugby fan is treated like crap. Pay your money and shut up.

To cap it off, my black colleague was told to bugger off as we negotiated our way out.

At least the rugby was world class.