After days of scathing criticism and ceaseless innuendo, the penny finally dropped.
"I gave extensive consideration to this," said Brian Lara.
"I want everybody to know that on Saturday I'll be playing my last international match. I've already spoken to the board and the players about this." It was a fairly routine press conference at the end of a insignificant game, but the answer to the last question caused even the most tired journalist to look up from his notepad.
And with that, it was over. He stopped to sign a few autographs - jaded hacks too aren't immune from the spell cast by his batting - and then walked away through the side door. Though there will be nothing at stake on Saturday when two frankly mediocre teams play for nothing more than pride, the stands could be packed as fans flock in to pay their own tributes to the prince among modern-day batsmen.
Ever since West Indies were ruled out of semi-final contention earlier in the week, speculation has been rife that Lara wouldn't be part of the Test squad to England. For a man who has carried the team piggyback for so much of his career, it would have been an unkind cut, one that he was clearly in no mood to take.
When asked to rake over the pieces of yet another ill-fated World Cup campaign, Lara refused to dwell on "spilt milk". "
We've got to move on and focus on the future," he said.
His one-day career will end at 299 games, and he won't now add to the 131 Tests and 11,953 runs he scored in Test cricket.
"I was very confident that I'd play my 300th game at the World Cup," he said. "It wasn't to be. So be it."
Though he will be remembered for two glorious centuries against South Africa (1996 and 2003), Lara has little else to cherish as far as the World Cup is concerned. Winning the ICC Champions Trophy in the gloom at The Oval in 2004 was a highlight, and he'll hope for a reprise against the English team that was beaten that day.
"West Indies cricket is something I hold dearly to my own heart," he said when asked what his feelings would be as he donned the maroon colours for the last time.
"I've had a very good run, 299 one-day matches and 130-odd Tests under my belt. That's testimony to the fact that I've been out there toiling for West Indies cricket. I've enjoyed every single day."
He leaves behind quite a legacy as a batsman.
"I've come out there and tried to entertain," he said, when asked how he'd like to be remembered.
"You have to remember that people pay to come through the turnstiles." "Another thing that I'm proud of is that I've been knocked down so many times, both as a player and a person, and come back. I need to thank my parents for that, for being able to go out there in the face of adversity and perform. It's a family trait."
You could never accuse of Brian Lara of lacking in timing. And if his retirement announcement was made without customary flourish, it didn't lack drama. It was the most delectable of late cuts: perfectly conceived and deftly executed, it left those in its presence breathless.
There was no gasp, because it took time to register. He dropped it in casually, just after he had finished answering his last question and when notebooks were being put away. He leaned forward, almost as if he was preparing to leave, and whispered these words into the microphone:
"I gave extensive consideration to this. I want everybody to know that on Saturday I'll be playing my last international match."
Journalists turned around and looked enquiringly at each other. Did I hear it right? Did he say merely international or was there a one-day before it. Some rushed to the dais to confirm it with Imran Khan, the West Indies media manager, who nodded his head. Some shoved miniature bats and notebooks to be autographed. But Lara had made it clear that there would be no further questions, and none were asked.
The very first question had been about his future and Lara had cut the questioner off.
"This is about today's match," he had said firmly, and had repeated the refrain whenever the subject had veered towards it. However, he had fielded other broader questions, about West Indies cricket, about Ramnaresh Sarwan - the leading contender for the captaincy - and one about how he would like to be remembered. Given what transpired, the question now seems prescient though, to be honest, it was asked in the context of his one-day career.
Lara's answer was typical of him. He didn't bother mouthing platitudes about service to the country and the game.
"I would like to be remembered as someone who came out there and tried to entertain." That was the truth about Lara. It was his essence. Over a 17-year career, lots of his relationships - with the board, with selectors, with the media and even his own team-mates - were stretched and tested. But one bond remained unshakable, that between a conjurer and his spellbound audience. You fell for him instantly, and were hooked for life.
With hindsight, it is obvious now that the press conference had so many touches of a farewell.
"I am also proud," Lara said.
"I have been knocked down so many times, as a player and as a person, and I have had the strength, I suppose that has come from my parents, to be able to pick myself each and every single time and go out there in the face of adversity and try my best and perform. I didn't read it up in a book. It's deep down and it's part of my family trait."
Time and again during the press conference, Lara was provoked to bring his dispute with the administrators in the open. He refused the bait. But what he left unsaid, said a lot.
"Whoever is the new captain must receive the support he deserves." When asked if he received the support he needed, he merely said it was no time to cry over spilt milk. Success in the international arena, he said, depended on much more than the 11 players on the field but, when pressed further, he insisted that
"this was not the forum to discuss this".
There will be another press conference in a couple of days, and Lara will surely be there. This time though, his inquisitors will be much better prepared.