An announcer sheepishly apologised, blaming the TV circus for the clanger and appealed to the spectators to hang in there.
Some started drifting off while a group at one corner of the arena made a vociferous statement.
"Boring, boring," they heckled.
The announcer replied: "I know you are bored but we're waiting for the TV guys."
Unperturbed by what TV had in store, Auckland's American import forward, Ismail Muhammad, carried on dancing and shaking hands with a bench teammate.
That moment of cohesive blunder had robbed not only the players and fans of their joy but it had sandpapered the magic off the code's premier event.
The champions were merely puppets on a string. They were nothing but programmes at the whim of an overbearing remote control.
One minute - Yep, you can high-five, do a jig and have group hug now.
Nekminit - Simon says stop!
As I made way to the Pirates' bench to hunt down co-captain Hayden Allen, carrying his toddler, for a snap interview the TV crew sabotaged that, too.
A clown with headphones unceremoniously interrupted just one question into the interview.
Where was the TV circus when the NBL tipped off in March?
Having decided not to cover the season because of "poor ratings", Sky TV agreed to cover the grand final on its terms.
Desperate for any kind of publicity, the NBL movers and shakers sold their souls in some dimly lit boardroom.
It also bends over backwards to give them all the time and space to operate on the big day.
Conversely print media, who offer unlimited, year-round coverage to basketball, are cooped up in a corner behind a hoop with the incessant beating of Cook Island drums threatening not only to perforate your ear drums but shatter your grey matter.
Bummer! There goes my chance of winning some spurious NBL Writer of the Year Award, then.
The word is Sky TV CEO John Fellet is the "teams' representative" on the board but he hasn't attended any meetings for sometime.
The whole scenario is just as farcical as the Wellington franchise hosting three consecutive playoffs.
Just as the Wellington Saints on Saturday had tackled and body-slammed their way into the grand final, it seems the capital city franchise is refusing to loosen its grip on hosting rights.
That monopoly has deviated from the NBL's edict to ensure the play-offs would be shared between North and South Island venues each season.
What incentive is there for the Hawks to finish at the top of the table as minor premiership champions?
The sections of empty seats at the TSB Bank Arena on both nights at the weekend are symbolic of spectator apathy in most regions.
It's anyone's guess how many free tickets are handed out each season to fill the seats but empty balconies after all the razzamatazz is a sad indictment on the code's bill of health.
An irate Hawks coach Paul Henare vented his spleen on the fans' apathy in a season when the attendance at their home turf, the Pettigrew-Green Arena, has dwindled to barely above the 50 per cent mark.
A smattering of Bay fans were at the Queen's Wharf venue at the weekend but it's marketing madness to stage a grand final on a Sunday.
Fans would be expected to go to work bleary eyed or, alternatively, take days off to travel to a relatively expensive city.
But the legion of spectators from Palmerston North, forming a sea of green in a sizeable section of the Wellington arena, set an example.
With the Manawatu Jets knocked out in the first semifinal, the Green Army got behind the Hawks' fans even when the chips were down.
Quite often bitter derby rivals, the group epitomised the spirit required to back the underdogs on the home turf of the perennial chosen ones for a fair fight to put some respectability in the code.
