Most Australians are dismissive or ignorant of New Zealand sporting achievements. They beat us at rugby most of the time and we beat them at cricket most of the time. That’s the extent of our interest and understanding.

I overcame parochialism and wrote once about how I enjoyed reading The Book of Fame.

It traces the story of the famous 1905 All Blacks, known as “The Originals”, on their pioneer tour of Britain, France and the United States.

Australia hardly ever played New Zealand at cricket before the 1980s; we didn’t consider them good enough.

Hence I had never heard of their 1953-54 South African tour before Graeme Smith’s heroics last week.

For overseas readers, Smith led South Africa to a series victory against Australia in this country for the first time ever. It was also the first time Australia had lost at home for about 20 years.

Australia won the third test, but the result went down to the wire. Smith broke his hand in the first innings and couldn’t bat. Replacements are not allowed in cricket.

With South Africa nine wickets down and needing to survive another 45 minutes to draw he strode out to bat with his broken hand unprotected, except for the normal batting glove.

He lasted for half an hour before being bowled.

It reminded South Africans of some New Zealand heroics in 1953-54. Tim Lane told the story in The Age today and it brought a tear to my eye.

While the second test was being played at Johannesburg, a rail disaster in New Zealand killed 151 people, including the fiancee of young Kiwi fast bowler Bob Blair.

New Zealand’s star batsman Bert Sutcliffe was injured after being struck on the head. It was thought he would not be able to bat again in the match.

Bob Blair was grief stricken after losing his loved one, and it was thought he would take no further part in the game either.

With New Zealand in trouble against hostile South African bowling, Sutcliffe bravely returned to bat at the fall of the sixth wicket, his head heavily bandaged.

I’ll let Tim Lane pick up the story:

Unbowed for the moment, he took to South Africa’s pair of champion bowlers, Adcock and Hugh Tayfield, striking a succession of fours and sixes to ensure his team avoided the follow-on. Men fell around him though, and when the ninth wicket went down at 154 players of both teams moved towards the pavilion.

Then Bob Blair appeared. Brittenden described the moment thus: “He walked into the sunshine, finding it pathetically difficult to put on his gloves, and the huge crowd stood for him, silent, as he went. Looking down on the scene from the glass windows of the pavilion, the New Zealanders wept openly and without shame; the South Africans were in little better state, and Sutcliffe, walking out to meet his partner, was just as obviously distressed. Before he faced his first ball Blair passed his glove across his eyes in the heart-wringing gesture of any small boy anywhere in trouble but defiant.”

Magically, Sutcliffe and Blair proceeded to hit four sixes from one Tayfield over before Blair was dismissed. Although Sutcliffe had hit seven sixes, compiled an unbeaten 80 in an hour-and-a-half, and almost single-handedly averted the follow-on, “he stood aside at the gate, allowing Blair to pass in first. They went, arms about each other, into the darkness of the tunnel but behind them they left a light and an inspiration that several thousand lectures on how to play the forward defensive stroke could never kindle”.

New Zealand lost the match, but that hardly mattered. The physical and emotional courage of Sutcliffe and Blair is legendary in that country.

It’s the type of unscripted, exceptional event that inspires and is never forgotten. Sport can do that.