Hope and expectation can be cruel companions for NZ cricket fans.
It was dark and cold when the passengers of flight NZ1127 checked in at Auckland Airport yesterday at 6.30am. It was cold and dark when they returned to Tullamarine to catch flight NZ1128, departing 2.30am, back home.
The hours in between were sun-kissed but unkind. Dressed in black, beige andteal, they travelled as much in hope as expectation - both can be bastards.
They returned a lot more tired and a little bit poorer than when they left. For the next couple of days some of them will wonder whether it was worth it: they'll snap at the kids, unfriend Australian mates on Facebook and spend a little too long in their pyjamas.
Then they'll get over it. New Zealand cricket fans always do. A lifetime of disappointments has cushioned them and the only reason this crushing defeat hurts so much more is that this team had convinced us they were impervious to the vagaries of form.
There's an old saying that you have to lose a final to win one. It is nonsense, but perhaps you have to play a final to fully understand the unique pressures.
The message from the team since their thrilling win against South Africa last Tuesday was that they couldn't wait. They wanted Australia at the MCG; they wanted to bat first and set the tone. Attack, attack, attack. The only problem was that the Australians couldn't give a XXXX about what they wanted.
They ran in hard, claimed Brendon McCullum's wicket off the fifth ball of the match and kept pressing, squeezing and outplaying New Zealand until the inadequate target of 184 was reached with barely a blip.
Proud Australian fan Kent Honour watches the final. Photo / Jason Oxenham
Australian captain Michael Clarke, a peripheral figure at this tournament in comparison to McCullum, got his fairytale ending (this was his last ODI), while New Zealand's great warhorse, Daniel Vettori, quite literally limped off stage - wicketless and sore.
New Zealand were taught a lesson by Australia, but don't forget the six weeks before this: Tim Southee's seven-for; Kane Williamson's six; McCullum's pyrotechnics; Guptill, Martin freaking Guptill; Grant Elliott's miracle. That was all real. This campaign was no mirage. Keep believing.
In the house bar of an Auckland hotel late last year, McCullum was asked what coach Mike Hesson's strengths were. He's a back-of-the-house coach, seemingly happiest in virtual anonymity, so what exactly does he bring to the table.
McCullum pondered briefly before offering this: "He's not that interested in short-term results. He wants to build something that lasts forever."
It's a mission that resonates now, as New Zealand's neon-lit campaign slipped into the shadows yesterday. They will be back and they will be better. This will be a team worth investing in for a long time to come.
