The world of Jonah Lomu, rugby superstar, must have been amazing considering the one he came from.
Former teammate Josh Kronfeld spoke of how Jonah would giggle when joking around but would gloss over his South Auckland childhood - no need for details, those were for police reports.
Jonah wasn't ready in 1994 for his test debut and he wasn't ready for the arrival of professional rugby either. No one really was, but no one else in rugby was so firmly in the spotlight. Laurie Mains' left wing option in 1995 was Marc Ellis - a fine player but barely 90kg. Lomu, the colossus, had an irresistible X-factor.
It was evident from the time he rampaged down the left wing on TV at the Condor Sevens, bumping off defenders like someone had thrown a box of matches at him, to the lessons learned from the wily Emile Ntamack and the French in 1994. Jonah had it all in front of him and that's why we were so fascinated.
He virtually barged the world of amateurism into professionalism with his deeds in South Africa.
New Zealand never had a superstar who was a bank teller. We became fascinated by the increasing global attention on a shy South Auckland kid who did extraordinary things. We wanted to know everything about him.
Jonah Lomu changed us by looking at rugby with the excitement that a man his size on the wing brought. And we changed Jonah.
We watched this shy kid with a frame a tailor would find difficult, become the youngest All Black and then almost discarded. Jonah took us on a rollercoaster no sportsperson had ever been on in this country. The highs, the lows, the tears - we saw it all play out on our screens, newspapers and magazines.
He was the closest thing to an A-list celebrity we had but was reluctant about it all. A burger named after him, a video game and his own CD of favourite music - what kid doesn't dream of that life?
Eventually he embraced it, matured and became more comfortable with who he was and what he meant to people. But what never changed was what people meant to him.
Since the announcement of his passing, the tales of his on-field deeds and the YouTube highlight clips on social media were quickly replaced by stories of how Jonah turned up here or dropped by there: into the gym a week after his kidney surgery, leaving behind signed memorabilia for a fan, remembering another's name after a year had gone by or turning up to Counties Manukau sevens training to meet kids who wanted to be like him. Except there won't be anyone like him.
For more than half his life, he was public property and he turned that into a positive force.
They say timing is everything and when Lomu came along, his timing was perfect. We had the time of his life. What a life he led.