This night was always going to be about more than just rugby league. It was about, Chisel! Well no, even if Jimmy Barnes's reinterpretation of the 'traditional softening-up period' was a hard act to follow. Perhaps the AFL's pattern of never risking an Entertainment that can upstage the entertainment is not a lapse of taste but a masterstroke. Chisel left it all on the field, including five or so years off their lives. They left a 15-minute silence in their wake, and a question: how could rugby league live up to that?

It was about, Queensland! Well almost. The national anthem did sound strangely neutral, when this was not a night for Australia as such. Perhaps something by the Go-Betweens or the Saints, or Reg Lindsay's 'Beautiful Queensland' ('the most wonderful state that I know'). Anyway, maybe that was down to Chisel too.

No – it really was about rugby league, this inward-looking, quarrelsome, brutally simple football code that is capable of magic and drama and athleticism and endurance that takes the breath away, as it repeatedly did in this sublime grand final. The greatest ever? There's an argument.

Right up to the flight of Johnathan Thurston's 80th-minute conversion – no? yes! Upright! Noooo!! – the roaring of the crowd scrolled from end to end of the Olympic stadium. Then the despair of Ben Hunt dropping the first ball of extra time, Brisbane repelling the Cowboys' manoeuvres, and Thurston's last word, the incredible climax a microcosm of the larger contest. From the opening, Cowboys supporters were still spending their bellows on a big tackle on Brisbane's Adam Blair when Blair's freakish pass set up a length-of-the-field try to Corey Oates. Then the Broncos were still rubbing their stomachs with that satisfied feeling as they were turned inside out by Jake Granville's buttery-smooth scrumbase move to put Justin O'Neill over for the Cowboys.

And so it kept coming, impossible to keep up with or turn away from. James Tamou spinning out of his Australian teammate Sam Thaiday's tackle to score the Cowboys' second. A Thurston error, pounced on by the Broncos, set up another change in the lead. Thurston then setting up a long break and near-redemption. A white-knuckle second half with tiny moments heaving with the weight of an entire season and, in the Cowboys' case, the tantalising lure of history. Only the final siren could offer the Broncos safe harbour, and then not even that.

Tough night: Justin Hodges consoles Ben Hunt after the game. Photo: Brett Hemmings

Two more observations. For all the theatrics of Origin football, nothing beats a grand final between two thrilling, enterprising club teams such as these. What made this a great game was the teamwork, the individual skills and the willingness to take risks – and in this the old guard were often outshone by the new generation of Hunt, Anthony Milford and Granville. It was also the two teams' defiance of the vogue idea that momentum is everything and once started cannot be stopped. Momentum in this match changed by the minute, by the play, by the pass. Both teams looked likely winners at every moment, and neither, when it hit the lead, looked safe. A truly great final minute was the last of 80 great minutes.

League would do well to remember this, amid the distractions of the next Origin season. And in an unexpected way, it was also a great night for Sydney.

Most of the 82,758 at the stadium were Queenslanders of course, but thousands of others were proudly wearing the jerseys of the other 14 NRL teams; thousands more were locals. Many, many New South Wales people screamed themselves hoarse. When Queensland presses its claim to host this festival, it might be asked, could it embrace two out-of-state teams quite so warmly, not out of love for the state but love for the game? It deserves its chance.

This game gave them plenty to love. It's hard to imagine, let alone remember, a better grand final. A top night for Queensland and an even better one for rugby league.