John Roughan on the All Blacks: Magnificent 15 bear the hopes of nation with ease

The crowd goes wild after Piri Weepu scores the opening try. Photo / Steven McNicholl

How do they do it? How can 15 mortal men carry the burden of four million? A game should not matter this much but, damn it, it does.

The park was a sombre place before the game, a contrast to Saturday night when most of the crowd adopted Wales and pretended to be partisan.

There was less face paint and fewer flags for this one. Here and there Australian supporters made splashes of gold and South Africans put on their green for the team that was supposed be in this semifinal. But the Kiwis wore All Black regalia quietly before the kick-off. This match mattered.

Wallabies were first on the field to kick some balls about as the sun set and the stadium began to fill.

Graham Henry took a walk across the turf. Several All Blacks emerged in track suits, each in their silent world of iPod earphones.

Zero hour minus 30 minutes: both teams are going through warm-ups. The Army Band went through the same jolly routines that had entertained the crowd for France versus Wales the night before. Last night, only the band's haka raised a cheer. All pre-match eyes were on the All Blacks warming up at the western end. Zero hour minus 20 minutes: the training done, the team assembles behind captain Richie McCaw and jogs from the field.

Dave Dobbyn's Loyal comes over the ground sound system.

Zero minus 15: the choir files on to the field, having been waiting under the stand for three hours since their field rehearsal.

The three warriors summon the teams with a woodwind call from the dawn of time.

The anthems, haka, countdown and Quade Cooper kicks off.

Out on the full. Tonight's gonna be a good night.

The All Blacks sweep into attack, first left, then right, a pass from Aaron Cruden just fails to find Cory Jane.

They launch again. This time Jane comes from his wing and the pass just fails to find Ma'a Nonu.

They're on fire. The crowd is humming.

This is going to be a good night.

They were magnificent. Sharp. Accurate, clean and clinical.

The pressure of the game was fuel for them.

I should never have had any doubts.