The originals. The name of the team breathes legend - yet the names of the players are almost lost in the mists of time.
After the triumphant 1905/06 tour of Britain, Ireland, France and the United States, the men boarded a ship home to their families and their jobs - railway workers, journalists, farmers. Six of them switched to the new professional code of rugby league, where they could earn a small living and support their children. Some died young, some died forgotten.
The captain, Auckland's Dave Gallaher, was killed at Passchendaele in Belgium as he led his men over the top. The story goes that a Catholic priest, giving the last rites to the injured New Zealanders, couldn't help pointing out Gallaher to another soldier. He asked: "Do you know who that is, on the next table?"
The dying soldier shook his head. "That is Dave Gallaher, captain of the 1905 All Blacks," replied the priest, under his breath.
Gallaher was one of 13 former All Blacks killed in the Great War, among them his friend and centre for The Originals, Canterbury's Eric Harper.
Petone winger Duncan McGregor scored four tries in The Originals test against England yet died unknown and in poverty at the age of 65. He was buried in an unmarked grave in Timaru.
It was not until the inaugural Rugby World Cup of 1987 that McGregor's record of four tries in a test match would be matched, by Craig Green and John Kirwan. And it was not till 2005 that McGregor was given that most basic human dignity, a headstone.
It is true, the players have been almost forgotten. But that touring party was never about the 27 individual stars - it was about the team. The Originals.
So too in 1987, when a young, inexperienced All Blacks team won the first Rugby World Cup. Kirwan, Michael Jones and Grant Fox were brilliant but they knew the team was much more than the sum of its parts.
Over the next 24 years, the All Blacks have, just occasionally, lost sight of that. Blame professional pay packets. Blame the media hype. Blame the fans. Blame the booze and Mediterranean beaches. Blame the big black Ford Falcon XR6s and iPods and Twitter - whatever.
Jonah Lomu, Jeff Wilson, Carlos Spencer, the players have been stars; the pay-packets and endorsement deals and hype have been stellar.
For some, it all became too much: after the ABs' shock quarter-final loss to France in 2007, superstar winger Doug Howlett was arrested by Heathrow Airport police, drunk and jumping on cars.
Not today. Today, there's no Jonah. No Byron Kelleher. No Joe Rokocoko. And, of course, there's no Dan Carter, apart from the underpants-clad model on a 26m billboard in central Auckland.
Instead, there is a team. They're not necessarily the prettiest players. They're not the richest, they're not the most celebrated. But they are a team - and between training sessions, they've been out meeting every Kiwi they can.
Because this year, it's not just about the 15 men who run on to Eden Park. RWC boss Martin Snedden has talked about a Stadium of Four Million. Today, it's a Team of Four Million.
New Zealanders have shown this year that they know about teamship. The student army, helping Cantabrians after the Christchurch earthquake. The support for the families of the two SAS soldiers who died in Afghanistan.
The volunteers on the Bay of Plenty beaches this week, picking up oil-covered debris and rescuing shivering birds.
It is when we pull together that we are at our best. No stars.
It is working as a team that has got us to the final, and it is working as a team that may yet win us the final - for the first time in 24 years.
So go the All Blacks. And go New Zealand.