The ever- reflective Anton Oliver had spoken during the week about the difficulty of maintaining motivation. Well, there was absolutely no sign of anyone taking this game lightly. It appeared as if the Armistice Day remembrance - and the desire to play tribute to former All Black Dave Gallagher (who was killed in action in World War One) - actually lit a bigger and brighter fuse under the visitors than under the hosts.

In a breath-taking exhibition of complete rugby, there was not a single bad performance that I saw. But special credit has to go to Ali Williams, who responded to the pressure of competition in the second row with an unusually mature performance. Accolades, too, must go to the one-man destroyer Jerry Collins, who most surely by now be the most feared man in world rugby. Conrad Smith had a dream comeback from a prolonged injury break, celebrating with an 80-metre breakaway try. Also appearing as if he had never been away was Williams' locking partner, the blood nutted James Ryan. Sivivatu was a revelation for those of us who doubted his work rate, scoring two tries and executing a brilliant 40-metre breakout run in the first half, punctuated by a dummy pass that for me was a highlight of the match.

Of the others, McCaw was as omnipotent and magnificent as ever. And if James Brown is the hardest working man in show business, Rodney So'oialo is the hardest working grunt in international rugby, making dozens of tackles, aggressive in offence, turning up everywhere. 

Even Nonu - the man that half the posters on the SilverFern love to hate - made his limited time on the field count, linking well and breaking the line.

This was never-say-die stuff. Like the soldiers in the muddy trenches nine decades ago, it was full of grit, strength and passion.

To hell with waiting around for a round-robin in 2007. Give these men the World Cup now. They deserve it.