It wasn't a deliberate choice to sit so close to Michael Cheika. There was no way of knowing he'd be plonked just on the other side of the half-wall separating media from coaches at the Yokohama International Stadium in 2018.
By the time Cheika strode, somewhat purposefully and determinedly towards his seat, with that hint of the ferocity bubbling underneath the surface, it was too late to move.
The third Bledisloe Cup clash was about to kick-off and besides, being able to see Cheika at this sort of range would surely provide a whole world of insights. Actually, it was being able to hear him that mattered.
Since he had taken over as head coach of the Wallabies in late 2014 he'd become world famous for his histrionics. Cameras placed in coaching boxes had captured his wild gesticulations, his endless remonstrating with refereeing decisions and theatrical antics.
There was never any sound, though, and while it was easy to guess what he might have been saying and at times entirely possible to lip read with some accuracy, his work was essentially mime.
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Being so close that day in Japan was an unprecedented opportunity to consume the Cheika show with the words to go along with the pictures.
It wasn't a shock to discover that the language was x-rated, but it was surprising that he had no filter or self-control. He either had no appreciation that he could be heard by the uncomfortably close media contingent, or he simply didn't care.
Less of a surprise was that he sat on his own, the rest of his coaching staff squished on the benches in front of him and most interestingly, assistant coach Stephen Larkham never once made eye-contact during the 80 minutes.
Interesting, because a couple of months later it was revealed Larkham and Cheika had not been simpatico on that tour, having reached a tactical impasse about the style of rugby the Wallabies should play.
There may have been more to it than that, though. Larkham, who parted company with the Wallabies in early 2019, may simply have had enough of Cheika's endless rage, which took all of two minutes to show itself in Yokohama.
The source of his ire was All Blacks loose-head prop Joe Moody. The first scrum of the game collapsed and while referee Romain Poite asked for it to be reset, Cheika was adamant Moody had brought it down and should have been penalised.
Turned out Cheika had a thing about Moody: He thought the All Blacks prop was a cheat and a thug and spent the next 20 minutes yelling this with an expanding and creative use of expletives.
It was weirdly obsessive and didn't make sense in the context of the influence Moody had on the game.
What sent Cheika into swearing hyper-drive, though, was a penalty the All Blacks won when TJ Perenara remonstrated to Poite that there was a Wallaby impeding him at the back of a ruck.
Poite should have told Perenara to get on with it – the Wallaby wasn't really impeding him – and in the All Blacks previous test against the Boks, Angus Gardner didn't buy a similar attempt by Aaron Smith to milk a penalty.
This point, with some ferocity, was being made by Cheika as part of a general character assassination of Poite, the last splurge of which had a ratio of four swear words to one noun.
By the second half Cheika became increasingly detached from reality – seeing phantom forward passes, high tackles and offsides. He also became increasingly detached from his coaching staff.
He couldn't keep the irritation out of his tone as he spoke to defence coach Nathan Grey who was on the side of the field organising the Wallabies' substitutions.
Grey stood with one hand on his ear-piece trying to make sense of a needlessly elaborate plan that had Israel Folau defending at fullback in his own half, on the wing in the All Blacks half and attacking at centre in other parts of the field.
When Folau threw the ball to Ben Smith with 15 minutes to go, allowing the All Blacks wing to coast home and put his side 19 points ahead, Cheika threw his head back, smashed the desk with his hand and angrily lamented that his side couldn't follow a perfectly simple set of instructions.
There were 49,999 people at the stadium who had seen the All Blacks comprehensively outplay the Wallabies in a game that was well-refereed.
That same group had seen collective weakness in the Wallabies caused by the lack of clarity in their gameplan and a near fearful state of confusion as a result of the mixed messages delivered by their angry and unforgiving head coach.
And there was one man who saw refereeing injustices in every decision. One man who had raged for 80 minutes seeing only dark arts by the All Blacks and pure evil in the bloke wearing the No 1 jersey.