Before the game, Josh Schuster told himself he wouldn't cry.
He meant it too, he really did.
But when the Samoan national anthem rang out, and Schuster thought about his grandfather and his uncles and everybody in his family who had played for Samoa before him, and how he was wearing the colours they loved so much, the tears came out and he was not ashamed.
"Words can't really describe the feelings that you feel. If you're not there then you can't really explain the feelings that I was feeling out there singing the anthem in front of my family.
"It was the first time I'd represented my country. It's probably a night that I'll never forget representing my family and Samoa, especially all my uncles that represented Samoa, plus my dad.
"To get the opportunity to represent my beloved country, I'll never forget."
After setting up three tries in Samoa's 42-12 win over the Cook Islands in Campbelltown on Saturday night, Schuster rated his night as "a million out of ten" and seeing him after the match, draped in the Samoa flag, you'd believe him.
The sight would have converted even the most cynical critic of international rugby league, of which there are many, because it's easy to compare international rugby league to rugby union or football. But to do so misses the point of all three enterprises. The three sports exist in different universes.
Rugby league will never be a world game like football and until rugby league Test matches can equal State of Origin in public interest, a transition that could take decades if it's even possible, the international game will not be the pinnacle of the code like it is in rugby union.
Outside of Australia, New Zealand and England, international rugby league has been run like a community sport for decades.
Everybody knows everybody. The crowd is packed with family and friends of players. You will see somebody you know. There never seems to be enough money, but everyone tries their best to make it work.
Even now, with more elite-level players representing Tier 2 nations than ever before, it retains that same energy in the best and worst of ways.
So often in sport we talk about community and family and culture – we do it so often, in fact, it's easy to forget what those words really mean.
But to see their true power, just remember Schuster's tears.
Or remember how the earth shook when the Cook Islands did their haka, and how the sky cracked open when Samoa responded with their Sivi Tau.
Or hear what the Papua New Guinea colours mean to McKenzie Yei, who debuted in the Kumuls' mighty 24-14 victory over Fiji and crashed over for a try.
"When I found out I was in the team I couldn't speak, I was crying too much. This is my dream," Yei said.
"As soon as I put this jumper on it made me into another man. It's different. I can't believe I scored a try. I was out of words for several minutes.
"I will bring this jersey back there, to my home. It is so special to me, to my family and my people, and to my beautiful country.
"I’m really proud, especially for David Mead in his last game. To win for him is big, and to win for the debutants like me is big.
"I would always watch the Kumuls play, every time, no matter what, and we loved Meady. To play with him … I do not have words. I love him so much."
Mead himself managed to keep his emotions in check after crossing for the match-sealing try, but he retires as one of the Kumuls' greatest-ever players after 14 years in the jersey.
The veteran Bronco has played in 230 matches across the NRL and Super League, something he believes never would have happened had he not impressed the right people in his Kumuls debut back in 2008.
It changed his life, he said, and now at 33 it's time for him to step aside and give the jersey the chance to change somebody else's.
"This is their time now."
Papua New Guinea showed real professionalism and poise to turn away a seemingly endless series of Fijian attacking raids, as Lachlan Lam starred at half-back with a double, while the Bati have unearthed a future star in Penrith full-back Sunia Turuva.
But these one-off games are about the experience as much as they are about the 80 minutes.
An engaged crowd does more to sell international rugby league than all the marketing gurus in the world combined, and while a little over 10,000 fans piled into Campbelltown Stadium it sounded like triple that amount.
And in that crowd we see the real truth of Test football — as much as it makes you want to clap like a seal, the promise of Schuster no-look passes or Yei living up to Kumuls tradition by doing his best impression of a cruise missile every time he runs the ball is not what takes international rugby league from the trainspotters to the wider world.
It's taking those moments and combining it with the colour and the sound and the pride that was on show in Campbelltown and earlier in the day in Auckland to create an experience that is both undeniable and unforgettable, one that fans feel like they have to be a part of or they risk missing out on something special.
It's elite sporting action that is not locked away in an ivory tower, but wrapped in a cover you feel like you can reach out and touch.
These nights are not just about the football, they're about seeing a sea of Samoan flags waving in the breeze, and listening to the crowd howl like wolves or sing like angels.
It's about seeing something, feeling something, and knowing it is real because everyone there believes in it.
That's not to say Test football is perfect, because that community sport feeling runs both ways — the smaller nations are constantly searching for funds and in-fighting and petty politics behind the scenes can test the patience of even the truest believer.
Rugby league often has a terrible habit of rarely missing an opportunity to miss an opportunity. It can be its own worst enemy with its unwillingness to invest in itself and self-interest has cut it off at the knees more than once.
But in the revitalisation of international rugby league over the past decade, the game has been handed lightning in a bottle. It's landed on something special, almost totally by chance.
With the World Cup at season's end sure to generate more momentum and the representative weekend disappearing from the calendar next year, the powers that be must make finding room for Test matches a mandatory part of planning the schedule.
They have a mix of skill and spectacle that can be impossible to ignore, if only people are given the chance to see it.
