May 10, 1999

On current form South Africa are the hot favourite. But watch out for Australia and Pakistan and the dark horses India, West Indies and Zimbabwe.

By Peter Roebuck

Tactics, everyone asks, what of tactics at this World Cup? After contemplation this much can be said: this could be the World Cup with the least innovations. But who's to say? There are no new rules as there were last time, so that stifles creativity a little. Yes, the ball will move, substantially more than in the subcontinent last time around. Batsmen who try to plant their left legs and heave will swiftly learn that is not so easy. England does not bless the attacking batsman so much.

Conditions will change alarmingly, one day damp, the next dry, sunshine and sleet, which make it impossible to pursue any set tactics. Teams might want to bowl first, and while the medium-pacers will sing, the spinners will be a less happy lot. Hansie Cronje's South Africans are the side to beat, a powerful unit whose time has come. Or else they may as well repeat the age-old question: "If not now, when?" There is a solidarity about them, the sense of a wall standing in a howling wind, that is reassuring in this month of disarray.

Really it has been an extraordinary period of preparation or rather disintegration. The teams resemble ice-skaters working on their moves as the clock ticks along, falling, tense, arguing, blaming their coach and still the relentless passing of time. Among all the contenders only the South Africans appear at ease.

Elsewhere the walls come tumbling down. Pakistan have lost their coach, a crafty customer whose team, containing the usual suspects, has been playing with a familiar blend of power and self-destruction. Among the institutions of the world only Indian cabinets are as fractious as Pakistani cricket teams. Carl Hooper has chosen a strange time to say goodbye and his absence will weaken the West Indies because this morose and elusive man, so sensitive and so foolish, is a superb cricketer.

Not to be outdone the Indians have been losing their matches feebly and without their leading batsman they resemble a poodle fighting against a Rottweiler. For their part Arjuna Ranatunga's Sri Lankans, the holders of the Cup, have gone to pieces and their leader resembles Napoleon before Waterloo. Moreover it's hard to see reinforcements arriving in time to save him.

Of course, the English have been losing and arguing about money. Even the humble Kenyans have been complaining, mostly about their coach, whilst the manager of Bangladesh says his team cannot possibly win a match. Only the Zimbabweans and New Zealanders have been quiet, though news escapes from those countries like a drip through a reluctant tap. Inevitably the Australians will challenge under their grouchy leader Steve Waugh. It is not in the nature of Australians to lose easily or graciously. But Waugh's team lacks the confidence of recent incarnations.

Accordingly, Cronje's fellows are the likeliest victors in an open field. Not that their build up has been untroubled. Bob Woolmer's coaching contract ends with the World Cup and Makhaya Ntini, the first black cricketer to play for this country and a splendid young man, has fallen far from grace having being convicted of rape. But Ntini had lost form and Cronje is a true master of his team.

Notions that the South Africans invariably fall at the last fence are mistaken. Rain spoilt their chances in 1992, leaving them utterly disconsolate and needing 22 runs in one ball as a result of some madcap change in the rules. Four years later they played well only to bump into Brian Lara in scintillating form in the quarters in Karachi. Since then South Africa have won the gold medal at the Commonwealth Games, a small tournament admittedly, so small that the English did not deign to send a team, but the Australians were present and trying. And a win is a win.

Jacques Kallis is the key man in the South African team. Power, skill and versatility are needed in this company and Kallis has them in full measure. He hits the ball hard, swings the ball and can catch the wind. Certainly he is a little dense, and, strolling along the shore, once asked a colleague, "How far are we above sea level?" Yet he is honest and strong and straightforward. Allan Donald can bowl at lightning pace to upset the middle of an opposing innings and Shaun Pollock and Lance Klusener can turn a game with bat or ball. Much might depend upon the mood of Darryl Cullinan, a breathtaking batsman with an inner turmoil that has inhibited the expression of an exceptional gift.

Fortunately the South Africans have some weaknesses or there would be no point in the rest turning up. Their top order lacks conviction and the bowling has been wanting in variety since Pat Symcox hung up his boots. Symcox is a rumbustious competitor unversed in the correct political terminology. His colourful ways brightened an unduly earnest team until he fell foul of the false sensitivities of the age.

Patently the Australians and Pakistanis will press hard. On their day the Pakistanis can beat anyone. On their day they can beat themselves too. There is an imposing physicality about the Pakistani pacemen otherwise missing from players in this neighbourhood. Wasim Akram will be eager to lift the Cup, partly because his time is almost up and partly because the match-fixing investigations continue at home and victory might distract attention. The Pakistanis will bat forcefully and could finish first or last. Their fielding is a weak point and they give the impression that it should really be left to the servants. Moreover their mood can change quickly and this campaign lasts six weeks.

The Australians are much more predictable. Steve Waugh has set out to eliminate emotion from his own game and his captaincy will be thorough and mean. Australia's batting has a balance absent elsewhere, with Gilchrist and Mark Waugh leading the way and Bevan playing those compelling innings down the order. It is remarkable that a cricketer so impassioned manages to appear so calm in the field. No one can say that 50-overs cricket does not reveal character. It is nonsense to suggest that it is played by automatons. To the contrary it exposes humanity as much as the longer game.

Australia's bowling depends on Glenn McGrath and Adam Dale, a contrasting and niggardly combination. McGrath has become the most reliable bowler around. Although incapable of the surges found elsewhere, he is a skilful practitioner and took 83 Test wickets this winter. Dale is an old fashioned merchant of stump to stump line, the sort of bowler that took India to victory in 1983. Otherwise the Australians rely upon various medium-pacers and Shane Warne, a bowler nowadays living on his wits. Warne, though, is canny and is not to be underestimated.

India and West Indies stand on the same rank as teams with patchy records and a batsman as capable of seizing the stage as a Bogart or Olivier. West Indies have been strengthened by the selection of ageing artisans like Nehemiah Perry, Ridley Jacobs and Hendy Bryan, players willing and temperamentally sound enough to help Lara along. Nowadays the team appears better balanced and less likely to suffer collapses of morale.

Not that the recent past has been entirely pushed aside because Phil Simmons and Keith Arthurton remain from the wreckage, though Arthurton managed only two runs in the entirety of the last World Cup. Curtley Ambrose and Courtney Walsh represent the great days and will tighten the bowling but also lengthen the tail and weaken the fielding. Much may depend on Shivnarine Chanderpaul, a waif with a pixie's face who was raised in a humble fishing village and became the first player of Indian origin to represent West Indies for 20 years. He has been out of sorts and only a complete recovery will serve.

Alas, the Indians do not appear resourceful enough to sustain a challenge. Tendulkar is the cricketer of the age, a formidable competitor capable of inspiring any team. Hitherto the response has been unconvincing. These Indians do not hustle enough, do not struggle or strangle or curse their way to victory. They either win in style or lose. Moreover the bowling is weak, once the opening pair are rested. If they can reach the semis, anything is possible. If. If. If.

Seldom has a defending champion seemed less likely to retain a trophy than the current Sri Lankans. Last time they arrived full of sugar and spice. Now their tread is forlorn and their only hope a sudden return of the lost magic. Yet it never was magic. It was not a rope trick that won the World Cup but crafty tactics, bold batting, dashing fielding and some top-class spin bowling. Now rivals have taken a closer look. The Sri Lankans are also older and the captain's contributions are few and far between. Still, it is not quite a lost cause. If the sun shines Sanath Jayasuriya could blossom whilst Muthiah Muralitharan can spin the ball on a desktop. Happily only one Australian has been invited to umpire, and he is not standing in Sri Lanka's matches. So Murali will be given the respect he deserves.

About the prospects of New Zealand and Zimbabwe little need be added except that the Kiwis are a seasoned and settled team with strong seam bowling and some doughty batting in which Chris Harris, a balding improbable, features large. They could easily reach the semi-finals, not least because they'll be familiar with the conditions having braved the cold of Dunedin and the winds of Wellington. The Zimbabweans bring several fine cricketers, especially the Flower brothers, and their fielding will be outstanding. Yet they may lack depth with bat and ball and occasional victories might be their satisfaction.

That leaves merry old England. Astonishingly, otherwise sensible Antipodeans and Indians are predicting victory for the hosts. Perhaps it's because it was snowing in England a fortnight ago and has been raining ever since. Nonetheless they'll play some cricket sooner or later whereupon soft points may appear. England have been losing regularly and their captain Alec Stewart is in rotten form. Their hopes lie with Darren Gough, Graeme Hick and Andrew Flintoff, a powerful lad from Manchester who regularly hits the ball into the train lines outside Old Trafford and could liven an otherwise undistinguished team. England's side is a mixture of pork pies and Yorkshire puddings and can win only if winter returns.

Curiously only the South Africans seem to think their fellows can prevail. And they are not convinced. Everyone else arrives on a wing and a prayer. Whatever occurs it will be an exciting tournament that brings together the greatest cricketers of the age and gives them a rare chance to pit their skills and nerves against each other. It's a pity matches will be restricted to 50 overs a side. Sixty overs were played in 1975, 1979 and 1983 and things cannot have changed that much. Inevitably the pitches will vary more than previously which will prevent teams planning too far ahead. This might be a World Cup without innovation. Indeed it might see a restoration of the craftsman because batsmen cannot trust their eyes as much and bowlers cannot bluff. There is something about heavy cloud, cold wind, sawdust and sweaters that brings players back to the basics.

Whatever else, the fielding will be magnificent, with Jonty Rhodes sliding around and Ricky Ponting scurrying like a pursued hamster. And there will be Lara, Tendulkar and Jayasuriya, and Donald, Warne and Shoaib, and all the rest, and perhaps some unsung heroes, another Collis King to settle matters in one brutal hour or some more humdrum cricketer suddenly finding immortality. In the end it is all talk. Past victories will count for nothing. The moment of truth is near at hand and then, men, players and teams will be laid bare for the delight and frustration of cricket followers around the world.

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