At first, there was the outpouring of patriotic fervour when New Zealand was ahead - social media and news outlets were infested with slogans, fist pumping and platitudes, as the masses jumped on board the ship to glory.
But then there came the grim, torturous turning of the tide.
As the days rolled by, the faces and attitudes of friends and colleagues became increasingly strung out and bereft.
Compelled to tune in every morning to watch as races were lost or cancelled, the hot, powerful fever of the early days started becoming a green-edged, clammy affliction.
Some rebelled.
"I'm not going to watch any more," they told me.
"There's more to life than this," they wailed, "I can't stand it anymore."
But they couldn't help themselves, drawn in yet again to watch the next awful, gut-wrenching episode.
As defeat became increasingly inevitable the usual patterns of grief kicked in - loss, anger and finally acceptance.
Social media went strangely quiet but one particular online news site got everyone overexcited with a misjudged headline about "choking".
This unleashed another torrent of emotion, just as everyone was healing by justifying the loss as being due to the other team having more money.
Even though I didn't want to know anything about it, this event was forced on me - I lived through it as those around me lived through it vicariously but I felt a bit smug because it had no impact whatsoever on my life and state of mind.
I just don't get sport and never have. I don't play it and think there's nothing worse than watching it on television.
As a parent, I recognise its value for kids. I am stepping up to the plate and encouraging my daughter to play and I enjoy supporting her from the sidelines.
It's different when I know someone competing and am actually there watching them in action.
But when it comes to big national or international games and events, I can't buy into the national pride palaver that goes with it. I think part of my grinch-like attitude stems from the media's treatment of sport.
When teams and players are on the up commentators and headlines scream about "loyalty", "pride", "our boys and girls" but if these "heroes" put a foot wrong and lose, they all of a sudden have the weight of "the nation's disappointment" on them.
Um, no they don't. It's just a game, for goodness sake. Big deal, get over it: there will always be more games and there will be wins and losses. It's not like we have to stake our personal sense of identity and well-being on it.
I know I am a bit of a lone voice on this one and it means I have to put up with it when the people around me are riding the roller coaster.
Have I been tempted to jump on board? No, never. I will keep turning off the sports news, flicking over the sports pages and deleting the sports posts on Facebook. On the other hand, I will continue to get much satisfaction from reading books by some (not all) New Zealand authors, listening to New Zealand music, watching New Zealand movies and viewing New Zealand art.
Nicki Harper is a reporter for CHB Mail.
