Not being an overt supporter of tedium, the game of cricket was never something that I felt was worth my time.

Being a typical Kiwi male however, if any national team starts doing well, you’d better believe I’m as quick as the next guy to jump aboard the bandwagon.

Well. Dull sporting pursuits notwithstanding when I sat down to watch that semi final – the New Zealand Black Caps versus the South African Proteas – I found myself riveted. That was, without a doubt, the most action packed game of cricket I had ever seen; understandably then, with the final just around the corner, I was excited to see more of this marvellous game they called ‘cricket’…

The final played out last night. From the first delivery the match looked uncertain. After seeing McCullum swing at and miss that first ball I heard myself mutter, “Huh, looks like he’s in for a second ball duck.” When he swung at and missed the second ball I cleared my throat and heard my pessimism continued, “Well, perhaps a third ball duck…”

Sometimes I curse my own perspicacity.

From that point on, having lost arguably our biggest hitter and undoubtedly the man who single-handedly, albeit with two hands, made the semi final such a spectacle, the match fell apart. The Australians were in tremendous form – aggressive, decisive; utterly merciless in their attack. I watched as, one by one, the Black Caps batsmen fell. I recall being disappointed but oddly, not particularly surprised.

I think the main reason I have never been an avid follower of New Zealand cricket is because they have never been what I would consider a supporter-friendly team.

That said I have since disgorged from the bandwagon – as I’m certain have half of New Zealand – and am now awaiting the next potential sporting achievement.

That’s how us Kiwis roll.

Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Vic Coole

Photography by Seb Porter