It was the most cliff-hanging of finishes - 1960, the Gabba - when, on the final ball, West-Indian Joe Solomon threw down the single stump he could see from square leg to run out Australian Ian Meckiff, resulting in the first ever tied Test.
A huge historical occasion that everybody around at the time claims to have witnessed.
In reality, it's far more likely that those people had given up and gone home early.
Commentator Alan McGilvray had declared the match over at 4 o'clock and left the ground himself.
Still, all the old-timers reckon they saw that run-out.
The local equivalent would be in 1964 when Newcastle beat the "invincible" St George side in the State Cup.
The plain fact is that Newcastle Number One Sportsground could not have held even a fraction of the number of rugby league tragics who later claimed to have been there barracking that day. (I think I've met most of them...)
The same can be said for the Fine Cotton race meeting.
Despite what amounts to their protestations otherwise, you just can't fit the population of Queensland into Eagle Farm.
The point here is that the reason people tell these furphies is because having actually been physically present at these momentous events counts for something.
One of the things brought to a premature head in the sporting world by this virus situation has been the realisation of spectator-less contests.
The thing is, though, that with our falling participation rates, ever lessening attendance numbers and such enormous financial focus on broadcasting rights and advertising, the uncomfortable truth is that what we are looking at - empty stadiums with people watching on screens elsewhere - is pretty much a fast-tracked version of where we were heading anyway.
I'd suggest that now is as good a time as any to take stock, to decide whether that is really what we want and, if it isn't (which it shouldn't be), to start thinking about what we need to do in order to avoid it.
I once saw South African golfing great Gary Player hang on, in the midst of a late afternoon storm so strong it was blowing the pins out of the cups, to hole a 10-footer on the 18th to win the Australian Open.
I've walked courses while watching the likes of Nicklaus, Palmer, Trevino and Watson.
I was one of the 110,000 people who saw North Melbourne beat Hawthorn by 55 points in the 1975 VFL/AFL grand final (still the most exciting sporting event ever for me).
It was the atmosphere of being in the midst of the spectators watching Newcastle beat England in 1962 that made me want to get serious about playing rugby league.
I could go on.
Incredible stuff to have seen and experienced. Life highlights.
Nothing on television could ever come close, no matter what whizzbangery your coverage can conjure up.
It was the atmosphere of being in the midst of the spectators watching Newcastle beat England in 1962 that made me want to get serious about playing rugby league
And this is a point that I think is sometimes overlooked in the neglect of keeping the stadiums full: Young sportspeople start out as spectators!
It is being at the games, in the middle of all that that entails - the lights, the noise, the crazy supporters, the event... that inspires young people to want to become that point of focus.
That experience motivates and generates star athletes of the day and the future.
Also, there's the beauty of being a fan. The real fans are at the game.
As Arsenal-mad Nick Hornby put it so well: "... it's the fact that you cared so much, and that the noise you made was such a crucial part of it all, because, you've been every bit as important as the players, and if you hadn't been there then who'd've been bothered about football?"
Which brings us to what may well be the saving grace. The television figures are down.
It turns out people are switching off because, simply, sporting events without spectators make for less exciting viewing.
Spectator-free televised competitions are boring soulless affairs that are not remedied by the addition of cardboard cutouts.
The result has been that broadcasting contracts, such as those currently with the cricket, are being reneged upon because, without the energy of the crowds, the sports bodies themselves are unable to provide the "product" as described in the contracts, and so are being asked to accept lesser fees.
It's a funny situation in that it highlights what was always going to be an eventual absurdity: That pay-per-view broadcasters, who are televising everything and encouraging people to stay at home (or go to the pub) and watch it there, will then be complaining that the sports they are televising are not the same because there's nobody at the ground...
It is, and always has been, an untenable model.