South Korea and Japan are winners as much as Brazil

From the moment Senegal opened the trap-door on France's defence of the World Cup, to the instant in which Oliver Kahn shovelled Rivaldo's shot into Ronaldo's path, the first Asian World Cup confounded expectations and defied prediction.

Preconceptions abounded in advance. On the pitch France or Argentina would win, Brazil and Germany were no-hopers, Roy Keane was crucial to Ireland's hopes and England would struggle to get out of their group. Off it, the hosts were convinced English hooligans would spend the campaign raping and pillaging – and they meant that literally – while the visitors believed they would be unwelcome, lost and bankrupt in a week. Everyone suspected co-hosting was a recipe for chaos.

None of this proved true and much of the credit lies with the Japanese and Korean people, from the few now-famous footballers to the thousands of unknown volunteers. There have been three winners in this World Cup: Brazil, Japan and South Korea.

Outsiders feared Korea's infrastructure would not cope with the demands of foreign media and spectators. It has done so admirably while also experiencing a domestic outpouring of support which put millions of people on the streets. The "inscrutable" and insular Japanese, meanwhile, have not stopped smiling since the world arrived. Co-hosting, while sometimes making one feel detached from the other half of the tournament, was largely a success. And the two countries even appear to have developed a sneaking affection for each other.

This might not last, but the memories will. The wonderful trains; the polite shop assistants; the freshness of the food; the lack of crime, or menace; the fresh air of Cheju, the mountains near Nagano and hills behind Kobe; the vitality of Tokyo; the haunting sadness of Hiroshima; and, most of all, the exuberance with which both countries took to the tournament. In Japan it even made the inflexibility of rules, regulations and officials bearable.

At the semi-final in Saitama some Japanese fans hung a banner which featured the flags of all 32 competing nations and the words: "Thank you for coming, we're proud of you". In Taegu, after Turkey had beaten South Korea in the third place play-off, the Koreans unfurled a huge Turkish flag. Imagine that in England.

Well, after this World Cup, you almost can. The English, bolstered by thousands of fans of Beckham-san, were, with the Irish, the best supporters of the tournament. No Japanese fan who saw the congas at Niigata during the Denmark game will ever forget them. Some of this was due to the distance and cost filtering out the numbers, some, undoubtedly, due to almost 1,000 known or suspected hooligans having to surrender their passports. A huge factor was the welcome English fans received. A friend who has followed England for more a decade said it was the first time he had not felt a mood of hostility from the local population. English fans responded to this. In Shizuoka one revealed a flag of St George with the legend: "Goodbye Japan. Perfect hosts". Perhaps the word will now get around that following England is a lot more fun when you interact with your hosts rather than threaten them.

The England team were ultimately disappointing but had provided much pleasure beforehand, though more from the results than the aesthetic quality of their performances. The long-passing game was out of step with the tournament's successful teams, most of whom put an emphasis on short-passing, hard running and attacking brio.

That aside there were no great tactical advances. Goalkeepers are increasingly playmakers – which, in England, points to David James being David Seaman's successor – but that was signposted in 1998. The rest was contradictory. There was a shortage of goals in the later stages, which led to a lack of drama, but that was as much due to the quality of the goalkeepers as poor play. The refereeing (and linesmanship) improved, probably due to the greater use of European officials with high-pressure Champions' League experience.

The belief that the long European season was responsible for the poor performance of France and others was questioned by the appearance of more players from Bayer Leverkusen, who had the most demanding season in Europe, in later stages than any other club. And one of them, Brazil's Lucio, at last got a winners' medal after finishing a runner-up in the European Cup, Bundesliga and German Cup. For Bernd Schneider, Carsten Ramelow and others, there was just another silver.

While the great powers proved they would not yet be eclipsed, several minor ones suggested they were here to stay. Does this include South Korea and Japan? We will know in four years' time, in Germany. Home advantage is telling. Mexico have made the quarter-finals twice when hosting, but not in 10 other finals appearances. There is clearly, however, a coming together of standards. Good coaching and exposure to European club football are the prime factors. There are now almost no easy games left in international football.

Aimé Jacquet, who coached France to success in 1998, said: "Asia has rejuvenated world soccer. This can give football a new identity and new ambitions." That may be asking a lot. We will soon be back to more mundane affairs. Even this amiable tournament opened with a bitter, squalid and unsatisfactory Fifa Congress.

It ended on a higher plane. The rejuvenation of Brazil, the keepers of the flame, and the revival of Ronaldo, a victim no more. There are many competing images. A spontaneous presentation to Fifa officials, long after the crowds had gone, by volunteers at Saitama; a waiter finding a group of journalists in a bar to tell them his restaurant had overcharged them all £25 each and here was the change; a series of dazzling new stadiums. But that goofy grin, and daft haircut, is as good a way to remember an unusual but rewarding World Cup as any.