From the moment that searing Mitchell Starc delivery castled Brendon McCullum in over one, the beer was going flat at our World Cup party. And even though you tell yourself that at just one over into the match it's not the end of the road, there was that awful gnawing
Tony Blain: Stumps and beer left flattened by fiery fifth ball
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The Black Caps walk from the final with their heads held high, writes Tony Blain. Photo / Brett Phibbs
There were other aspects that I thought outstanding also. While other teams at the big show seem to specialise in bringing acrimony and indignity to the crease with them, the graciousness with which McCullum led his side was a testament to his respect for the great and noble game. The humility shown by the Black Caps was a lesson in that quality so treasured by New Zealanders, modesty. The obvious camaraderie within the camp was clear for all to see. When Bazza Mac mentioned the the lads "were having the time of their life" it wasn't corny or cliched.
Much of the credit goes to McCullum of course for his superb leadership as player and captain. His fearlessness with the bat and as a tactician unafraid to back a hunch, he was inspirational to his teammates and the fans. Coach Mike Hesson deserves some sizeable plaudits as well. His navigational prowess has seen this side emerge from some difficult times and begin to build a player base of excellence, expectation and at long last the rarest and most precious of all gemstones, belief.
Lastly, I bid a fond au revoir to two gents who've been part of the fabric of our game for the past generation plus. Daniel Vettori has been a fantastic and modest servant to our game for the past 20 years; Martin Crowe almost double that. They had very different methods of playing but are hard working Kiwis proud to represent the country they love in the game they love.
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