Alas, Cheika wasn't assembling the Caravan of Courage to thank everyone for their participation. After a few loose moves and scratchy drills, it was time for a heart-to-heart. Translation: 'Look serious and listen very, very closely.' Blood and guts: Scott Fardy. Credit:Mike Cadogan The gaffer had permission to speak as freely as he liked. It wasn't technically a closed session but the sprinkling of fans there were milling behind a fence 80m away, waiting patiently to intercept Israel Folau or Quade Cooper on the way to the team bus. There were no television cameras to zoom in on his lips, nor a radio station to capture the sound. It was unfiltered Cheika, speaking to his players with the heart on the sleeve and no reservations. This was where the magic happens. As the only Australian reporter on that side of the international dateline at that stage, it was a peek into the inner-sanctum that fans and even the media rarely get to experience. And hindsight paints it as the most insightful of views as to why the Wallabies are one game away from a World Cup final.

The details can be spared for a number of reasons, partly because of the sanctity of the team talk and partly because the story would then require a degree of parental supervision. But here's what largely went down when the coach had his men's undivided attention. Watchful eye: Michael Cheika at training. Credit:Dan Mullan Cheika presented his players with a pair of options, the first of which was the status quo. You're all good rugby players, he pointed out, making good money and having a grand old time travelling the globe with a footy in one hand and a free Samsung phone in the other. What's not to like? We're ranked five in the world. That's not too bad. Let's just enjoy the ride, the breakfast buffets, win the odd Test and take in the scenery. Happy old days. Or ...

You can be winners. You can do everything harder, faster, bigger, better than other teams. You can get lower, run further, bleed more than your peers. You can aspire and never settle. You can rest when your career is over. Until then, it's chips in until you're mentally and physically out of tickets. If you're thinking Al Pacino in Any Given Sunday, you're on the wrong track. This wasn't Cheika bellowing at his players in scripted prose. This was Cheika almost pleading with his troops to take a plunge and get on board a train he had hoped would eventually steam all the way to a Twickenham finale. Don't forget, at that point the Wallabies still had everything and then some to prove. They had beaten South Africa a week earlier but were yet to face the All Blacks and most still suspected they would struggle to make it past their RWC pool games. Cheika needed them to believe in the vision, to believe that every player was valuable, to believe that they were good enough to defy the pundits and the critics and forge their own path. It's much easier said then done. By this stage, you may have guessed the playing group opted for the latter option. For all that Cheika has done in his short time in charge, returning an element of 'hardness' to the Wallaby play could be his shrewdest move.