The Brad Shields saga appears to be over and England have won.
Except it may actually only be beginning and England may have lost.
That won't be how it feels right now for England coach Eddie Jones. He'll be basking in the little victory of forcing New Zealand Rugby to concede defeat and release Shields for England's three-test series in June.
Jones got his man, but the question will arise at some point soon, at what price?
Modern rugby history has had a few notoriously divisive and ultimately catastrophic episodes where one selection has destroyed the entire fabric of an international team.
Jones, to some extent, owes his current position to one such selection disaster as it was the decision to head-hunt Sam Burgess from the NRL and plonk him into England's midfield during the last World Cup that ultimately led to former coach Stuart Lancaster being axed.
England had plenty of other problems and failings throughout that campaign, but the promotion of Burgess, when he was so clearly not ready, came to represent the illogical, haphazard, panicky nature of the Lancaster regime and enhance the view that it was his assistants rather than he who were driving strategy and selection.
What became apparent as England fell apart in 2015 is that Burgess was collected by Lancaster as a wildcard, but one that the coach had no idea how to use.
It could be argued it is an apples-to-pears comparison to equate fast-tracking Burgess, an NRL player with no rugby experience, into the World Cup campaign with dropping the highly experienced and rugby-ready Shields straight into the England team.
Yet the two selections are bound by the same disruptive element which is neither player came through England's long-term development programme.
That's the nub of the issue and the common factor that has united all historic divisive international selections.
When coaches have scrambled players into their team from beyond their own backyard, invariably, almost always, it has gone wrong.
That was the problem when Scotland wanted to pick former Otago utility back Brendan Laney a week after he had played in the 2001 NPC final.
Former captain Gavin Hastings was outraged and led a high-profile media onslaught of the coaching regime which resulted in Laney's selection being delayed by a week.
"It's a sad day for Scottish rugby, a very sad decision," fumed Hastings. "He may be a good player, but he is a New Zealander and knows nothing about the Scottish team."
Hastings' was angry that a player, with no discernible passion or interest in Scotland, despite being eligible through his ancestry, was being given a cap.
His position on the Laney selection was interpreted as being a touch xenophobic – but the dramas that clung to Laney and which will now follow Shields, are not about the strength of their eligibility or relative desire to wear the jersey they have been given.
Shields, like Laney, is being selected from outside the pathway that the RFU spend millions creating and the integrity of which hundreds of thousands of young English hopefuls need to trust.
And that integrity becomes compromised when a host of loose forwards who have bashed themselves senseless at English clubs and schools for as long as they can remember, grafting through the age-grades and into the professional ranks, are overlooked for someone who was developed on the other side of the world.
Those players in the English system who felt they were in contention to be picked to play in June, will now feel cheated: stabbed in the back by a coach who has made a statement of sorts that he rates the New Zealand development system higher than he does his own.
NZR head of professional rugby Chris Lendrum made that same point when he said: "It seems highly unusual that they can't find players within their own county to pick."
Jones has justified the selection of Shields on the basis he's tasked with picking the best players who are eligible for England. He believes Shields ticks both those boxes, hence the Hurricanes captain will be on his way to South Africa in a few weeks.
As much as Jones has legitimacy and no doubt quite considerable support, so too do those who feel Shields' arrival is a betrayal of the hopes and aspirations of those who have chased an England cap since they first picked up a rugby ball and not just in the last few months when it became apparent the All Blacks' door was closing.
And so the debate will rumble on, intensifying when Shields actually plays. Those who don't believe Shields should be there will never fairly judge him: he'll never be able to show the doubters that he's obviously better than the English-developed players he's keeping out the team.
His every mistake, even if he only makes one, will be portrayed as the irrefutable proof he's not up to it.
Jones, a bullish and forthright type, will inevitably become entrenched in his thinking about Shields – determined to prove that not only was he right to pick him, but more importantly, that he's the boss and he won't bend to media or public pressure.
That's the danger of going outside the system – it divides opinion and creates a tension that can become strong enough to crack even the closest knit teams.