The magical thing about Tuesday’s remarkable test climax was not the result, even though it will go down in history, with the Black Caps becoming just the fourth team ever to win after following on.
It also wasn’t the constant drama, as the advantage swung wildly fromone team to another across the afternoon; nor was it the numerous moments of individual brilliance and resilience, typified by Neil Wagner’s late show.
Instead, the most magical aspect of what unfolded at the Basin Reserve was the shared, collective experience.
The feeling that just for a moment the whole nation was watching, drawn to the incredulous nature of the occasion.
They weren’t - with the match behind a paywall on Spark Sport - though many were following in other ways, through radio commentaries, live-scoring websites or google updates.
Fans at the Basin Reserve weren't the only ones cheering on the Black Caps on Tuesday. Photo / Photosport
It brought back memories of cricketing moments in the 1980s, when the matches were broadcast on free-to-air television.
Until 1989 there were only two channels (TV1 and TV2) and precious few other entertainment options, so if you were inside, the cricket was on.
If the match wasn’t carried live - as happened with some overseas tests - then radio was the vehicle.
Everyone was talking about Lance Cairns and his Excalibur bat in the school playground in 1983 because we had all seen the six sixes at the Melbourne Cricket Ground.
Ewen Chatfield’s folk hero status was amplified in 1985, as the network news was delayed for his last-ditch stand with Jeremy Coney, which ensured a famous victory over Pakistan.
Then there was Mark Greatbatch defying Australia across three days in 1989, which hit the front pages of the Herald, back when sport rarely strayed from its section.
There have been other moments since then, like Nathan Astle’s 222, Brendon McCullum’s triple century or the World Test Championship final, but it has taken something extra special to drag people from their world of multiplying distractions.
Tuesday was the perfect storm to capture the imagination.
It took place when many of us were in front of some kind of screen or device (mostly at work) and the back-from-the-brink narrative was irresistible.
It was undoubtedly the Black Caps’ most extraordinary victory, as there were so many moments when they looked dead and buried.
What if Tim Southee hadn’t swung his bat with authority? What if Ben Stokes hadn’t insisted on a cavalier follow-on call? What if the New Zealand openers had faltered in their second dig, or Kane Williamson couldn’t summon another faultless exhibition of batsmanship? What about the catastrophic England run-out? Then there were the roles performed by Tom Blundell and Wagner, among many other subplots.
To these eyes, that will always belong to the 1985 first-test win at the Gabba, with Richard Hadlee’s 15-123, Martin Crowe’s 188 and John Reid’s ton.
Richard Hadlee appeals for a wicket during his 1985 masterclass against Australia. Photo / Photosport
Beating Australia on their own turf is the holy grail and arguably the hardest task in cricket.
That’s why New Zealand have only managed three victories from 34 attempts.
The first - and best - win came in unforgettable circumstances.
Australia collapsed from 146-4 to be all out for 179, with Hadlee achieving the remarkable figures of 9-52 from 23.4 overs, before New Zealand piled on 553-7, then were good enough to roll Australia again, despite a defiant 152 from Allan Border.
Sure, it wasn’t a vintage green-and-gold outfit but still featured Border, Kepler Wessels, Greg Ritchie, Wayne Phillips, Geoff Lawson and Craig McDermott, who fell to a demolition job that will never be forgotten.
