KEY POINTS:
The longer this tour has gone on, the more it has become apparent that New Zealanders have no real sense of identity. Or at least they don't have the same depth of understanding of who they are as the Celts and English.
The depth of emotion in these parts is quite extraordinary. Rugby is more than sport, it is a powerful demonstration of nationalism, an expression of culture and years of history, toil, joy, success and failure all packaged into the event.
Take the Scots; the band stopped playing after the first verse of Flower of Scotland before the All Black test. No one skipped a beat - 50,000 people sang the second verse unaccompanied. It was chilling. Everyone sang on because they wanted to let the passion escape, there needed to be an expression of what the test meant, of what being Scottish meant.
Scots don't have to ask each other what it means - it is Bannockburn, Culloden, Adam Smith, Graham Alexander Bell, Ian Fleming, glens, lochs, whisky, tartan, the doomed World Cup of 1978, Local Hero, Simple Minds; the list could go on for a long time.
As it could with the Irish, who made it impossible not be moved close to tears at Croke Park. To hear 83,000 people spontaneously erupt into a rendition of the Fields of Athenry gave an insight into the unity of the Irish people.
Croke Park itself is a monument to the history of Ireland. Its size and sheer imperious stature represents the new face of Ireland as the darling of the European Union, as the Celtic Tiger economy where years of bust were turned into boom by innovation and hard work.
And then there was the Hill, the scene of an atrocity almost 90 years earlier that sits as a reminder of the hardships, the pain, the struggle, the anger and humiliation the Irish felt under English rule. This is a land that has bled into its own rivers, given up lives to preserve the Irish identity and cultural tools that make it such a spiritual place.
It will be much the same in Wales this morning. Nearly 75,000 people will sing Land of My Fathers in a language only they understand. The red jerseys represent the valleys, the coal mines, Merthyr Tydfil and other long names short on vowels.
The Celts, England and France have such a defined sense of identity and they pour the whole lot into every test they host. The All Blacks have found it is not 15 versus 15, it is 15 versus 75,000.
That the All Blacks always win doesn't impact upon the occasion, for the Home Nations and France see the expression of their nationalism as almost being more important than the result. They, unlike New Zealanders, can still leave the stadium feeling proud of who they are and where they are from when they lose.
It seems that here in Europe, international sides only have to reflect the qualities the nation feels it upholds. For the Celts, that is passion, bravery, commitment and a little innovation. For the French it is passion, flair and spontaneity and for England it is power, dominance, accuracy and maybe even a sense of fair play.
But in New Zealand it is all about the result and even sometimes that's not enough - it's about the quality of performance that delivered the result.
Vincent Hogan, the Irish writer whose column caused such a stir, was right about some things. He alluded to the joyless process of winning, the obsessively clinical nature of the All Blacks that was as routine as a butcher carving the carcass into the various joints.
His point would have been better made had he realised the All Blacks, these days, revel in victory. Now they have lost their fear of losing, they feel more than relief when they win.
It is the followers of the All Blacks who lack emotional depth and the inability to see a test as more than just 80 minutes of rugby. That's what leaves the rest of the world feeling New Zealanders can't find their soul when it comes to rugby.
New Zealanders love the All Blacks but do they love them so much when they are not winning? This is the very thing that Martin Snedden, the man in charge of running the 2011 World Cup, fears most.
New Zealanders don't seem to have the same strength of emotional bond tying them all together as one nation and nor do they seem to have the same unconditional bond with their national team.
A test in New Zealand is never about the wider celebration of all that such a wonderful country has to offer. There is no use of iconic imagery, there is no communal singing of songs close to everyone's heart. The All Blacks are it, they are the way the country expresses itself.
The crowd sit back and let the All Blacks represent the country. They let the values and attributes of the All Blacks speak for the nation - what you see on the field is what everyone believes visitors to New Zealand get off it - excellence, hard work, honesty and humility.
That's great right up until the point the All Blacks don't actually deliver. Then Eden Park, AMI Stadium or wherever becomes a morgue. New Zealanders can only celebrate themselves and all they have achieved when the All Blacks are winning and playing well.
There is a beneficial spin-off to that single-mindedness. It has helped create the culture of expectation which is part of the All Black legend. Sloppy football is not tolerated and every All Black side knows they can't con their own. If they serve up mince, no one is going to clap like crazy and pretend they are getting steak.
The dark side of this fixation with winning is that it comes across as insular and sells the country short. Every Kiwi at Croke Park or Limerick would have walked out of the ground with nothing but admiration and respect for the Irish. Joe Rokocoko, a veteran of 50 tests, felt the game at Thomond Park was the best atmosphere he had ever played in. "I have never heard a crowd make a noise like that. It was unbelievable and you can see why Munster do so well."
Both Ireland and Munster lost and yet they gave the All Black players and the New Zealand fans a memory that will live with them forever. Would any Irish fans who came to Wellington in June this year have left the Cake Tin with the same indelible belief they had just been part of something to treasure for life?
The time has surely come for New Zealanders to soften their stance, ask who they are, in what they believe and turn All Black tests into an unashamed expression of all they stand for.
It's not an option to say spontaneous singing is not what Kiwis do, or that being vocal, passionate and demonstrative is not the New Zealand way.
Away from home, the sense of belonging and identity intensifies within New Zealanders. That's something All Black assistant coach Wayne Smith is in no doubt about.
"I think it manifests itself most commonly away from home," he said. "Kiwis arrive at Heathrow and all of a sudden the national anthem is important, the haka is important, they lose inhibition and we get fantastic support over here.
"It is different support to what we have at home. I am the same myself and my sons. When we came over [to coach Northampton 2002] you just grab hold of everything Kiwi. The haka, the black jersey, the black blood running through your veins - it just becomes more intense when you are away from home."
After the game against Munster, new All Black Scott Waldrom said: "We think of ourselves as being passionate, but we are not like that."
He was right. Rugby in New Zealand is an obsession, it is not a passion.
