'I was breathing as if my oxygen mask had slipped off on Everest'

The fiddle player over in Chicago played 'Ireland's Call' before we beat the All Blacks for the first time ever, after a 111-year wait.

Some of the violin notes were more harrowing than the screams of a man who caught his penis in the zip of his pants, but we still won. Anthony 'Axel' Foley was our 16th man, and Ireland had a masterplan.

The Irish team formed a figure of eight - Foley's jersey number - when the All Blacks danced a particularly intimidating haka. Axel's dad Brendan beat the All Blacks when he played for Munster in 1978. Just after the haka he whispered to Moss Keane, "will we ask them to dance?" Axel lives. His figure of eight inspired his beloved Ireland and for once the Kiwi war dance was no more than small boys whistling in the dark.

I went to see 'DaddyJohn', Jonathan Sexton's grandfather, in the dark of the new cemetery. It wasn't that dark, but dark enough to be scared. The red-and-white night lights kept sentinel and the crescent moon, like a listening ear, held sway in the starry sky. I saw a figure moving among the graves. A man who was grieving planted a shrub at his loved one's feet. We made out our grave. DaddyJohn lies there and he brought his grandson everywhere. They played pool for hours on end. Even then the kid had the eye and he hated losing.

His grandson, you see, was playing at 10, the pivotal position against the All Blacks. For those of you who do not follow sport, Jonathan Sexton missed a big kick the last time we played the New Zealanders. His leg was falling off at the time and he should have gone off but the bravest player I ever met didn't want to let his team down.

I told DaddyJohn my story. This lovely feeling of contentment came over me. I knew then we would win.

This win was more than a game. It was an endorsement of us Irish as a nation. We never, ever lie down, even when it takes us 111 years to get up.

New Zealand is the greatest rugby country ever. They play the game with skill, ferocity and belief. This team had gone 18 in a row and every game was won with many points to spare. The bookies are the naysayers of optimism. We were 12/1 in a two-horse race. But Ireland won with figures of eight, no little skill, more guts than you'd find in a sausage factory and our plan was written by a rugby genius from Wellington.

The English teacher Joe Schmidt was born and bred in New Zealand. From now on we will call him The Master. His lesson plan was perfect and Sexton was his prefect. He kicked so near the Kiwi line it seemed as if the ball was his very own drone.

Rob Kearney and Simon Zebo went so high in to the Chicago sky, the air traffic controllers in O'Hare logged in a pair of UFOs. It isn't fair to praise one over the other. None of our players was found wanting.

Young Joey Carbery was born in New Zealand but he was schooled in Blackrock College. The boy became a man when Jonathan went off injured and Ireland were on the back foot. Ultan Dillane, the Kerry kid, came on and covered more ground than Al Capone's bootleggers.

We went from 17 up to four up. The All Blacks never give up.

I made for The Room. All men dread The Room. It's the place Herself brings us for The Talk. I took refuge. And I got to thinking, here I am nearer to 60 than 50 and I will never live to see Ireland beat the All Blacks.

And I felt for my godson, Jonathan, who hurts when he loses and sometimes blames himself. My son came in and put his arm around my shoulder. He was certain we would win. I was breathing as if my oxygen mask had slipped off on Everest.

Back in with us then to the television and the remaining minutes. We jumped for joy with the whole family when the final whistle ended 111 years of waiting.

Brenda Sexton is nearer to 90 than 80. She is still a very good looking woman with a fine upright, long-stride walk and there's great zest in her. There is no better woman to give a few words of advice, when asked.

Her grandson phoned from Chicago and she told him DaddyJohn worked in the city for a few years, a good few years ago. DaddyJohn put in long hours, spared up, and his savings paid for the Sextons' home and shop, just five doors from John B's. Brenda chipped in too and every morning she opens her door for business. She'd sell sand in Ballybunion and coconuts in Fiji.

So Brenda the sports psychologist told her grandson that he was in a city that was very good to the Sextons. And he listens to her.

After the match we sent Jonathan a photo from the shop of Brenda, me and The Boy With No Balls, who is a mannequin.

Jonathan's reply was that "DaddyJohn's spirit was with us in Chicago".

How could we lose? DaddyJohn, Axel and the crowd make up 18. The All Blacks had only 15.

There will be days in the dark of winter when we will pull across the curtains and dip in to the replay, time and again.

History is written now in the scoreboard over Soldier Field. This win over the mighty All Blacks is engraved forever in our national consciousness and is etched permanently in our beating Irish hearts.

n 'The Best of Billy Keane' is out now in all good bookshops.