Humble may well be the new black, but Crowe was nothing but "genuine" and "real" when he said, with little prompting: "[We're] seeing the dawn of probably our greatest-ever batsman."
That was the "wow" moment. The passing of the baton. Let's make no mistake about this - for those of a certain generation, including this writer, it was inconceivable to think there would be anyone better than MD Crowe. Sure, there might be a couple of batsmen whose CVs might have matching averages, but you had to see the 188 at the Gabba, the 142 at Lord's to believe it. It wasn't just the runs, but the manner in which they were scored.
So to hear him bypass his protege, the brilliant Ross Taylor, and anoint Kane Williamson was a seminal moment.
He also spoke warmly of this incarnation of the Black Caps, and that in itself was telling. When Taylor was dumped as captain in favour of Brendon McCullum, he took it hard. Understandably so. But yesterday's press call was littered with positive references to the leadership of this side.
"I have been thoroughly impressed for a long time, probably since the first day of last summer when Ross and Brendon got hundreds," he said. "They've led the team well, the amount of double and triple [centuries] being scored at the moment is testament to the quality they have."
Crowe's endorsement should not be underestimated. There are still those with grudges who believe coach Mike Hesson and McCullum are little more than the opportunistic beneficiaries of a coup. If Crowe believes, shouldn't we all?
It may be cathartic, but only Crowe can answer that. He's facing challenges we can only fear.
Crowe's follicular cancer has transformed into double-hit lymphoma. The prognosis is poor.
At first, cancer was his friend. It allowed him perspective. It gave him a reason to finally drain the reservoir of bad will he had collected towards others. The world champion of holding grudges, his words, learned to let go. "I used to wallow in my very out-of-control thinking," he said.
Now, cancer is not his friend. You sense he doesn't really know what it is - friend, enemy or malignant bystander - but he refuses to have the rest of his life framed by cancer. So he's doing things his way.
No chemotherapy poisons flooding his system, just natural living and the love of those around him.
And cricket.
Crowe will be one of the many thousands he hopes will pack out Eden Park at next month's World Cup.
"I'll be there," he said, before leaving the arena and walking, with poise, from sun back to shadow.
