The All Blacks beat the Wallabies 39-37 in Melbourne last night to win the Bledisloe Cup for the 20th year in a row. But that doesn’t even begin to cover it.

This story first appeared on The Bounce, a Substack newsletter by Dylan Cleaver.

This was a Bledisloe Cup test that defied explanation. Beyond the first frantic minutes, it had little shape and form. It was a random collection of rugby protons and electrons buzzing brilliantly, hopelessly but mostly haphazardly around Marvel Stadium.

And yet it was the neutron – referee Mathieu Raynal – that ultimately had the biggest say, dispensing what my almost certainly inebriated English neighbour described as “Napoleonic justice” at the end to hand the All Blacks back the ball in prime attacking position for this drama’s final act.

Yes, those two paragraphs are all over the place. No, you’re none the wiser as to what actually happened after reading. Good, the match deserves no less.

It all started so crisply and coherently. The All Blacks pulled some training ground moves, quickly earning set-piece supremacy. They turned it into points. It was too early for ostentatious displays of coaching-box back-patting, but Ian Foster could have been forgiven for channelling John “Hannibal” Smith.

Everything was so orderly and wonderfully structured, but it was such a beautiful lie – something akin to the trailer for Braveheart consisting solely of the love scene between William Wallace and Murron MacClannough.

In the end we were just left with a whole bunch of questions, some that might resolve themselves, some that will remain unanswered when our own collections of atoms shuffle off this mortal coil.

Was this a step forward or backward for the All Blacks?

I can’t raise a prima facie case for either proposition. They did some world class stuff as both a team and as individuals but it only served to magnify the terrible errors that inevitably followed. On balance, it’s a win against Tier One opposition away from home, so we’ll take it.

Was Raynal justified in turning over possession to the All Blacks at the death?

Justin Marshall made the salient point in the wrap-up that we would not be taking it very well if it happened to us. He’s right of course – in the New Zealand version of the urban dictionary “Wayne Barnes” has only recently been downgraded from a swear word and there are still parts of South Dunedin where Colin Hawke requires an armed escort.

And yet, with all jingoism aside, I absolutely love that he did it. There’s a level of cynicism creeping into rugby that needs to be nipped in the bud – faking injuries, celebrating tries that aren’t, trying to get refs to watch replays, time wasting.

Of course it makes little sense to pull that particular law out of his pocket at that stage in the game but he could have done it many times previously, and my enduring memory of that incident will forever be Bernard Foley’s teammates in the background screaming at him to kick it out.

Did the referee have too big a say in the match?

Probably didn’t have a big enough say. Yes, there were a bunch of cards, but also some acts that went unseen and unpunished. Does Marika Koroibete have special dispensation that allows him to tackle without arms? How did Tyrel Lomax not see yellow for his tip-tackle cleanout? Why did he not review Foley’s forward pass to Andrew Kellaway when he’d already disallowed a try to the same player when the ball was half a centimetre off the turf?

You know what’s coming now…

How did Darcy Swain only see yellow for THAT?!

That’s a dog act. One of the worst. It’s very hard to prove intent but that is not a spur-of-the-moment action. Surely Swain is not trying to injure a fellow rugby professional, Quinn Tupaea, whose key work tools are his legs? Revolting.

The yellow was ridiculous. As a friend immediately texted, that’s the same punishment given for failing to rein in a genuine intercept attempt.

How did the All Blacks lose a 31-13 lead?

Perhaps that should be “How did Australia come storming back?” That would be the more generous framing and yet it’s not the way I’ll remember it. Despite a couple of heroic goal-line stands, the All Blacks defensive structure was feeble throughout.

Richie Mo’unga has taken a firm grip on the number 10 jersey with his electrifying running and distribution, but you can’t help but worry when he and the explosive Caleb Clarke are aligned on the same side of the defence.

Was it a good game?

Using the Socratic method, let’s answer the question with a question: Does it matter? No, not really. It was wonderfully entertaining, utterly baffling chaos. Rugby needs more of it. Bring on Bledisloe II.

Subscribe to Dylan Cleaver’s sports newsletter The Bounce for more.