Australia 29 defeated New Zealand 26
@ Stadium Australia, Sydney on Sat 1st September 2001

Personally, I like a movie script that has twists and turns, that leads you deceptively down one path, and then thrusts you unexpectedly along another; you never quite know where it's heading, and as for how it's going to end - well, that's anyone's guess. Films like "The Game" come to mind.

I'm also a sucker for a Hollywood happy ending. Call me shallow, but that's just the way I am. Not so much of the "Home Alone" oeuvre. More the "Shawshank Redemption" kind of happy ending. Endings that feel right, that leave you feeling profoundly satisfied, that all is right with the world.

But here's the thing - I'm easily pleased. Very rarely will a movie have both a twisting plot and a happy ending. Too much to expect most of the time. So I'm happy to settle for one or the other.

And so it was as I sat in the Southern Stand at Stadium Australia, blood pouring from my nose as the effects of high altitude sickness started to take hold. Would this game deliver, first and foremost, the happy ending everyone (or, at least, every Australian) felt John Eales so richly deserved? And would it be a game of high drama, a game which would go right down to the wire, as so many of the Wallabies' major matches do? Think the 1999 World Cup semi-final against South Africa, the 2000 Bledisloe Cup clash at Wellington, the 2000 TriNations decider at King's Park, and the Third Test against the Lions. So many matches which were literally decided at the buzzer. How different would be the stature of the Wallabies had lady lucked smiled on our opponents instead, had the ball sailed to the left of the posts, had the ball bounced differently?

The first half was, above all else, a huge relief. Not only had the All Blacks been kept in check, but the Wallabies had skipped away to a seemingly comfortable 13 point lead by half time, courtesy of some magic from Larkham and Latham, and some precision goalkicking from Matt Burke.

You could feel the tension drain out of the crowd. A straightforward plot would be okay tonight. Let's keep it simple. A comfortable and inevitable victory sewn up with about 20 minutes to go would be just what the doctor ordered. No twists. No turns. Just a happy ending, plain and simple.

And when the team took the field for the second half, John Williamson started another rendition of "Waltzing Matilda". The crowd's heart just wasn't in it. The All Blacks were struggling. The Wallabies were cruising. Everything was going as scripted. Time to take things a little easier and start to enjoy the moment. This game was won.

And like a virus, this malaise infected the Wallabies themselves. Tackles were missed, passes went astray, and twenty minutes later the All Blacks had put 20 unanswered points on the board, in a blitzkrieg eerily reminiscent of the corresponding match at Stadium Australia in 2000.

And then there was - well, there was silence. The crowd crawled deep within its collective shell, horrified and devastated by what was happening before their very eyes. This could not be happening. Destiny herself had made a date with John Eales before the opening whistle was blown. They were to meet on the presentation stage, where Ealesy would hold aloft the TriNations trophy, the fruits of one last triumph over the old enemy.

It was almost too painful to watch. Indeed it was easier to just sit there in stunned silence, which is exactly what the majority of the crowd at Stadium Australia did. It would be nice if the crowd could start singing spontaneously when the team needs a lift. Certainly, Australian rugby crowds have increasingly found their voice over the past few years, but our lips remain firmly shut when things start going south on the field. And yet this is when the boys on the paddock most need to hear our support. We've still got a lot to learn from our Northern Hemisphere counterparts in this regard. They know how to cheer and they know how to sing, and they know exactly when both are needed most. OK - now that I've got that off my chest, let's return to the field of play. The Wallabies are trailing by 10 points. There are 15 minutes left on the clock, the All Blacks are inside our 22, and Andrew Walker has just taken the field for an injured Matt Burke...

In what was, to my way of thinking, the single most important moment of the match, Andrew Walker, in the same corner of the field where he notoriously came off his wing to allow Jonah Lomu in for the match-winning try the year before, pulled off an absolute corker of a tackle on Tana Umaga. The upshot was a passage of play that led to a penalty goal kicked by Walker. This represented a six or possibly ten point turnaround, as the All Blacks seemed destined to score a try, or a three-pointer at the very least. And if that had happened, it would have been game, set &match to the All Blacks. And a nightmare end to a glittering career.

Another twist, yes. But we still needed one more turn. It came in the form of some courageous decision-making by Ealesy and a moment of individual brilliance from Toutai Kefu, who should have been Man of the Match (no disrespect to Michael Foley). Following sustained pressure on the All Black line, and with a minute left on the clock, Larkham dished a gem of a pass to Kefu, a man on a mission, who zigged and zagged - indeed, twisted and turned - his way to an unlikely try right beside the left upright, leaving five All Black defenders in his wake. Greg Growden, of the Sydney Morning Herald, likened the way Kefu extended his arm towards the try-line to the abilities of Inspector Gadget, and that's exactly what it looked like.

And then - pure elation, and much, much cheering. The proverbial fairytale ending, where the gentle giant walks off into the sunset with a spring in his step, a tear in his eye, and a smile on his face. Better than anything Hollywood could possibly concoct. A moment so right, so perfect, that it transcended a mere sporting contest - it lifted the hearts, minds, and souls of every Wallaby supporter. And then the relief. Thank God things turned out right. They so very nearly didn't.

And if, for some reason, Ealesy's not around to buy Kef a beer, there'll be another 20 million people who'll be happy to say "My shout, Kef, and thank you".

- Dan Fowell