THE 15 GREATEST ALL BLACKS OF ALL TIME

Starting at No.15 already feels ridiculous.

Because Ardie Savea is an extraordinary rugby player.

Explosive with ball in hand, brutally difficult to put down, outstanding over the ball and capable of producing moments that completely change the momentum of a Test match.

What separates Savea for me is the range of his game. He can play across the back row, carry like a far bigger man and somehow find metres when there don't appear to be any available.

He's become one of the defining All Blacks of his generation.

And yet he's only No.15.

That tells you how savage this list is going to be.

If you never saw Sid Going play, go find the footage.

Super Sid was box office before rugby started using phrases like box office.

Quick, instinctive and wonderfully unpredictable, Going played halfback with an attacking imagination that could turn seemingly ordinary possession into something dangerous.

His combination with his brothers became part of New Zealand rugby folklore, but Sid's reputation wasn't built merely on entertaining crowds.

He was a magnificent All Black in his own right.

Comparing a halfback from his era with today's highly structured professional game is almost impossible.

But greatness doesn't have an expiry date.

Sid Going deserves his place.

Props don't usually get the glory.

Tony Woodcock found a way.

For more than a decade he was a cornerstone of the All Blacks pack — technically outstanding, immensely dependable and capable of surviving the brutal demands of international front-row rugby year after year.

Then came the 2011 World Cup final.

With New Zealand carrying 24 years of expectation, Woodcock scored the All Blacks' only try of the match from a beautifully executed lineout move.

They won 8–7.

But don't let that one famous moment define him.

Woodcock's greatness was built over a long international career doing one of rugby's hardest jobs at an exceptional level.

A world-class loosehead for years.

Before McCaw, there was another All Blacks captain who seemed to represent everything opponents hated about playing New Zealand.

Sean Fitzpatrick.

Hard. Relentless. Smart. Competitive.

And almost impossible to intimidate.

Fitzpatrick was an outstanding hooker, but his influence extended well beyond his position. He became one of the central figures of All Blacks rugby through the late 1980s and 1990s and captained the side through a hugely significant period.

He played Test rugby with an edge.

The sort of player you loved if he was wearing your jersey and probably couldn't stand if he wasn't.

Every great team needs those players.

Fitzpatrick was one of the best.

This might be higher than some people expect.

Not me.

Ben Smith was one of those players who made the correct decision so often that it almost became invisible.

Fullback. Wing. Centre.

It didn't seem to matter.

His positioning was superb, his running lines were intelligent, he was outstanding under the high ball and his ability to beat the first defender consistently made him incredibly difficult to contain.

And then there was his rugby brain.

Smith rarely looked rushed. He seemed to see what was developing before everyone else.

He wasn't built around one spectacular weapon.

He was just ridiculously good at almost everything.

That's why he's No.11.

At his peak, Brodie Retallick looked like somebody had accidentally put a loose forward's skill set inside a world-class lock.

Huge engine. Physical. Athletic. Excellent in the lineout.

And then he'd start throwing passes and handling the ball like a back.

Retallick helped redefine expectations of what an international second-rower could contribute around the field.

His partnership with Sam Whitelock became one of the foundations of an extraordinary All Blacks era, and his individual performances established him among the world's elite forwards.

There are plenty of great All Blacks locks.

For me, Retallick belongs right near the top of that conversation.

Here we go.

Jonah Lomu is No.9.

And I can already hear the keyboards.

There may never have been a rugby player who terrified defenders quite like Jonah.

The combination made no sense: enormous size, devastating power and genuine sprint speed.

Then the 1995 World Cup happened.

Lomu didn't simply become a rugby superstar. He became a global sporting phenomenon.

He helped change how the world saw rugby.

So why only ninth?

Because I'm ranking the totality of the greatest All Blacks ever, not simply the player with the biggest global impact or the most devastating peak.

Eight players get my call ahead of him.

You can start yelling now.

The greatest All Blacks halfback I've seen.

There. Another argument.

Aaron Smith's pass was ridiculous.

Fast, accurate and delivered with such consistency that the All Blacks could play at a tempo other teams simply struggled to live with.

But reducing Smith to his pass misses so much.

His decision-making, support play, communication, kicking and understanding of space made him the engine room of the All Blacks attack for years.

When New Zealand wanted speed, Smith provided it.

When they needed control, he could provide that too.

There have been wonderful New Zealand halfbacks across generations.

Sid Going is on this very list.

I'm taking Aaron Smith.

A No.8 who could do almost anything.

Zinzan Brooke was years ahead of his time.

He could carry. Handle. Pass. Kick. Link with backs. Dominate lineouts. Play physically.

And, apparently, decide that dropping goals in international rugby was something a No.8 should be doing.

His famous long-range drop goal in the 1995 World Cup semi-final against England remains one of rugby's great pieces of forward audacity.

But Zinzan wasn't a novelty act.

He was an extraordinarily skilled rugby player with the toughness required to dominate at the back of the All Blacks scrum.

Put him into today's game?

He'd fit beautifully.

Early in his career, Ma'a Nonu could have been dismissed as simply a devastating ball carrier.

Then he became so much more.

And that's what makes his career remarkable.

The power never disappeared. Nonu could still run through defenders and generate front-foot ball almost at will.

But his distribution improved. His kicking improved. His decision-making improved.

Eventually, he became one of the most complete midfielders in world rugby.

His partnership with Conrad Smith gave the All Blacks an extraordinary combination of power, intelligence and consistency.

And when the biggest matches arrived, Nonu could produce something special.

A nightmare to defend. A magnificent All Black.

The Iceman.

Michael Jones was playing modern loose-forward rugby before modern loose-forward rugby really existed.

His speed was extraordinary for a flanker.

So was his athleticism.

Jones could cover ground, win possession, tackle relentlessly and then suddenly appear in attacking situations where defenders weren't expecting a forward to be.

He scored the first try in Rugby World Cup history in 1987 and became one of the outstanding players of that inaugural tournament.

Injuries affected parts of his career, but at his best?

He was sensational.

If you were designing the prototype for the athletic openside flankers who would eventually dominate professional rugby, you'd find plenty of Michael Jones in the blueprint.

Yep.

Christian Cullen at No.4.

The Paekākāriki Express.

There have been extraordinary attacking fullbacks in rugby.

I'm not sure I've seen many who made beating defenders look as natural as Cullen did.

His acceleration was devastating. His balance was ridiculous. His support lines were beautiful.

And once he found open field, good luck.

Cullen could take possession seemingly without much happening and, seconds later, the defensive structure had completely disappeared.

At his peak, he wasn't merely an excellent All Black.

He was one of the most electrifying rugby players on the planet.

Lomu is ninth.

Cullen is fourth.

I'm comfortable with it.

Now we get to Pinetree.

You cannot seriously discuss the greatest All Blacks without Colin Meads.

Different era. Different rugby. Different world.

Same fundamental requirement:

Be better than the men standing opposite you.

And Meads did that relentlessly.

Toughness became synonymous with his name, but reducing him to some mythical hard man does him a disservice.

Meads was mobile, skilful, immensely competitive and capable of playing a style of rugby that separated him from other forwards of his generation.

His reputation grew far beyond individual matches.

He became an embodiment of the All Blacks themselves.

For generations of New Zealand rugby supporters, Colin Meads wasn't merely a great All Black.

He was what an All Black was supposed to be.

The greatest fly-half I've ever seen.

And one of the easiest selections on this entire list.

Dan Carter had almost everything you could possibly want from a No.10.

Running game. Passing. Tactical kicking. Goal kicking. Defence. Composure. Decision-making.

Most importantly, he could put all of those things together when the pressure became enormous.

His performance against the British & Irish Lions in Wellington in 2005 remains one of the great individual displays by a fly-half.

Then came the ending his international career deserved.

After injury robbed him of the knockout stages of the 2011 World Cup, Carter returned four years later and helped drive New Zealand to another title in 2015.

When you needed control, he controlled.

When you needed points, he delivered.

When you needed something special?

He could do that too.

For me, Carter is No.2.

Which leaves only one.