The name McCaw will evoke a battered craggy face, smashing into breakdowns, leading from the front, speaking after the match with sweat pouring off him, uttering a few modest comments.
The greatest memory of him will be the World Cup in New Zealand, when he played match after match on painkillers for a fractured bone in his foot, and that unforgettable final when he applied all the lessons of leadership and composure he learned the hard way in the previous World Cup.
McCaw has not said definitely he is retiring. After 14 years at the top, it must be hard to believe the time has arrived, but it has.
He owes his body an end to the constant battery of a player in his position. He turned down a knighthood after the last World Cup because he was not finished. He ought to accept one now.
What honour can we give the incomparable Dan Carter? New Zealand has had first-fives who can kick reliably for goal or field position, some who could run, a few who could launch a backline with a pinpoint long pass.
Carter could do all those, and tackle. In his prime, he did it all with the calm and control of the truly great. Time seems to stand still for their decisions.
Mealamu should not have been as good as he was - too small, too light, too nice for the front row. But he was a tough and tireless little trooper in the trenches, forever pushing forward and usually coming up with the ball. Woodcock was the opposite, a grinder in places only front rowers go.
Nonu and Smith were an almost perfect centre pairing, Nonu charging the enemy line, Smith steadying his own.
Nonu grew in the All Blacks from a tearaway young centre who made startling breaks to a solid second-five who could still make the breaks, and even kick productively in recent years.
They have been the nucleus of a team that has been called, by a Springbok coach no less, the best ever. Maybe, and it has been a privilege to see them.
