By Tom Fordyce BBC Sport, Paris

Even a brief glimpse of Jonny Wilkinson or Andrew Sheridan on the giant screens was enough to send a collective moan of dread round the stadium

As bleary-eyed Englishmen slept off late-night Parisian adventures on the Sunday Eurostars hurtling back to Blighty, smiles still glued to their grizzled faces, a sense of sunny optimism hung in the otherwise fetid air.

After England's slow throttling of the French, the Welsh dicing of Italy and Ireland's acceleration past Scotland, we suddenly have a Six Nations that's as full of life as a Galapagos greenhouse.

With two rounds of matches to go, every game still means something.

Four teams can still top the championship. At least two can finish bottom. One can win the Grand Slam.

This Six Nations is a demolition derby, a riveting confrontation between half-built outfits with as many imperfections as attributes.

In this rugby version of the smash-'em-up showdown, England are a one-geared, rumbling Chieftain tank, capable of crushing some rivals remorselessly under its heavy tracks yet prone to running out of fuel halfway through the race.

Wales are a boy-racer/hot hatchback, all flashy paint-jobs and spoilers and benefiting from a bigger and more reliable engine installed by the new owner.

Then we have France, a sexy-looking motorbike with oodles of speed and zip which gets sent spinning into the tyre wall by its heavyweight rivals.

Ireland are a nice-looking saloon car that, on closer inspection, has large patches of rust all over the bodywork. While it still looks pretty good from certain angles, the log-book shows that the wheels fell off completely just five months ago.

Scotland? A dour, fun-free people-carrier, capable of carrying plenty of weight but with zero acceleration or va-va-voom.

And Italy? An old family estate car that trundles along without much pace and ends up stuck in the slow lane for race after race.

Warren Gatland's influence has rejuvenated Wales' fortunes

There have been grumbles in some corners about the flaws in each team - moans about the absence of a truly great side in the tournament, the playing style of some of the teams and the overall standard of competition.

But what would you rather have - a race that feels over before February is out, or a battle royal to the death?

Let's take the tournament leaders first. Wales supporters know better than anyone else that victories over Italy shouldn't be taken lightly. Rome last season, Cardiff the year before and the misery of 2003 told them that.

Dublin in a fortnight's time will be even harder. They've beaten Ireland just once in eight years, have yet to experience the Croke Park roar and face an Eddie O'Sullivan desperate to put one over his old boss.

But Warren Gatland's game-plan is bedding down faster and with more success than he can ever have dared dream.

There's a proper pack, the Shaun Edwards blitz defence in place and a strength in depth that wasn't there even in the glorious 2005 campaign.

When the opposition coach calls your hooker a 'grotesque clown', you know you're doing something right

Any side in the tournament would like to have the option of choosing between Stephen Jones and James Hook at fly-half.

Lee Byrne has made a mockery of his non-selection for the World Cup and Shane Williams is bouncing around in such rubber-ball fashion that it's almost as if Jason Robinson never retired.

Ireland, meanwhile, are showing signs of finally waking from the sloth-like slumber that cost them so dearly last autumn.

The cupboard might still be worryingly bare once the current crop has departed - witness the thumping Scotland A dished out to their Irish counterparts last week - but there's fresh life in the old dogs yet.

For England, the abiding memory of the Stade de France on Saturday night will be the genuine, palpable fear the French team and public showed for their forwards and fly-half talisman.

Even a brief glimpse of Jonny Wilkinson or Andrew Sheridan on the giant screens was enough to send a collective moan of dread round the stadium.

Even Brian Ashton briefly smiled. When the opposition coach calls your hooker a "grotesque clown", you know you're doing something right.

606: DEBATE France's scrum resembled a tattered old wind sock by the final whistle BBC Sport's Ben Dirs

The forwards finally got quick ball to the half-backs, the concentration levels stayed constant and Wilkinson provided exactly the sort of unfussy, unglamorous performance that the occasion demanded.

Complaints about a lack of flair miss the point. Wins buy an emerging team time and self-belief.

Developing new playing styles and players is a whole heap easier in a successful, confident team than one going backwards. Just ask Marc Lievremont.

As for Scotland and Italy - well, that clash in Rome in three weeks' time has got wooden spoon written all over it.

Scotland, for all their possession in their games so far, are painfully short of the guile and finesse needed to convert puff into points.

For Italy, it's not so much about creating chances as taking them. Gonzalo Canale's knock-on just before half-time at the Millennium Stadium and two penalties that hit the posts came at exactly the wrong time for Nick Mallett.

A classic Six Nations? There's every chance it will be.