By the time it was over, the overriding feeling at the Brisbane Stadium was not so much euphoria or ecstasy or relief but dizziness. Not from the heights that Australia has reached in its home World Cup, beating France to reach a first semifinal, but from the winding, coiling, nauseating road it took to get there.
The game itself was fraught enough, the goal-less stalemate of the score line belying more than two hours in which the balance of power hopped back and forth: France started well, composed and inventive, only for Australia to wrestle control. It was not an evening defined by patterns of play so much as storm surges, and the ability to withstand them.