New Zealand’s Grant Elliott and South Africa’s Dale Steyn, in Auckland Tuesday. (SOurce: AP photo)

On Tuesday, Eden Park came alive with an indescribable joy and yet, at the same time, resembled a funeral scene.

First came the sound. A guttural cry, a strange howl of utter joy. It wasn’t relief or surprise at this historic victory but a euphoric communal joy that dripped off the faces of cricket fans. Beyond them, sorrow peeped out from all corners of the playing arena.

The South African fielders were dropping on to the ground like flies. And, in the middle of the stadium, South Africa-born Grant Elliott, who moved to New Zealand 14 years ago, was hugged by Daniel Vettori for playing what is probably the most important shot in New Zealand’s cricket history.

Around the two joyous batsmen, South Africans sunk in grief. Dale Steyn, who was tonked for the winning six in the final over, sunk beside the pitch. Morne Morkel, who had taken Brendon McCullum’s wicket — a potentially match-winning moment in the first semifinal of this World Cup — collapsed to the ground at short fine-leg and started sobbing. Faf du Plessis, who had roared after taking the important catch of Corey Anderson earlier, fell at backward point. A teary AB de Villiers hit the ground at mid-on — it only got more painful for him later at the press conference when he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

Of all the things to go wrong for South Africa, who would have thought it would be their fielding? Run-outs were missed, catches were clanged and it was a day their biggest strength failed them. Of all the fielders to commit crucial errors, who would have imagined de Villiers could also be guilty? With 94 runs still needed and Corey Anderson on 32, de Villiers had the chance to seal the game but didn’t collect a throw cleanly, and broke the stumps with his hands.

Of all the things to go right for New Zealand, who would have thought it would be their almost unknown, untested and under-pressure lower middle order? Elliott, who was drafted earlier this year after spending 18 months in the wilderness, and Anderson, who added 103 runs with him for the fifth wicket, are almost like the Nakul-Sahadev of the epic Mahabharata. Everyone knows they are there but not many expect anything thrilling from them. And yet there they were, pushing and prodding initially, threading the gaps, running for everything , slowly getting the crowd behind them, and then suddenly pulling off a heist.

For the initial part of their partnership, the crowd too had fallen a touch quiet. The quick wickets of Ross Taylor and Martin Guptill that had come on the back of McCullum’s exit had made them nervous. In the concourse stand, spanning from long-on to long-off, a nervous tension was palpable. As the partnership progressed and the target started coming down, some colour started to return to their faces. Five men started shouting the countdown: 85 from 60, 80 from 55 and soon they were shouting every ball. People would look at the middle and then crane their necks back to catch the TV screens to either check a replay or see the run equation. When the target got under 50, pandemonium broke out, and chants of ‘Grant Elliott’ started to bounce off everywhere.

With 14 runs required of seven balls came a dropped catch of Elliott that set off more joyful screams in the stands. Farhaan Behardien set himself under the ball at deep backward square-leg but JP Duminy collided with him. A wave of relief blew over the stands, a pressure valve asphyxiated the fielders, and both batsmen stood in the middle, watching the drama at the boundary, failing to take the extra run that could have brought Elliott on strike for the final over. No one cared about it in the stands, though, as they were still celebrating the reprieve.

It escalated into a crescendo when Vettori steered a yorker-length delivery to third-man boundary in the final over and thunderous claps burst out when they scampered across for a bye in the fourth ball. Five off two, read the equation.

Just before that delivery, Steyn and his captain de Villiers, who talked about it later, decided that since Elliott was likely to move around and squeeze out the yorker to fine-leg boundary, they would bowl a length-delivery. Mistake.

A whir of arms, blink and the ball soared over long-on. They say the batsman is the first one in the ground to realise it’s going to be a six. At Eden Park, it seemed everyone in the stands sensed it almost immediately. Necks craned forward but even before the ball had reached half way in its trajectory, that guttural cry had begun.