That put extra pressure on Williamson, but did not faze him, even batting on a tender right knee.
Earlier knots about an innings self-destruction had largely been massaged away.
These eyes and ears soaked up Williamson's impact with a walk around the boundary as he went about ensuring New Zealand extended their unbeaten home record to 13 tests.
There is no chanting, a technique which tends to be reserved by the crowd for fast bowler 'pep-talks', a la beer cans rattling to "Had-lee! Had-lee!" in the 1980s. Williamson generates a serene confidence among spectators, punctuated by roars of approval when he hits his next boundary or reaches his next milestone.
That must be the ultimate adulation for someone of his reserved personality to appreciate. He bats happy in the knowledge the paying public will exit smiling if they're local fans or, if they're visitors, nod appreciatively that they witnessed quality test cricket.
The glum silence when he hooked out for one in the first innings highlighted the other end of the spectrum.
Cue the beauty of Williamson's mindset. Yes, he failed in the first innings, but had adjusted to succeed by the second.
It was simple. Eradicate scoring from the hook or pull.
"Going from Dunedin, where everyone played them pretty well, to here, I think in the first innings we didn't adapt to the change and the bounce," Williamson said. "It was bit variable; some stood up and some kissed through quickly and steeply to make it more difficult.
"I wanted to take in a sounder game plan. That meant initially going under the ball when it was hard and, as it got softer, I'd look to play a bit more. It was important not get carried away with the shot."
That's why he's officially world No.1, but at the grassroots he is a local hero.