'It is my choice whether I sing or do not sing the anthem' © Getty Images

Jacques Kallis, very much the cornerstone of South Africa's Test side, is embroiled in a controversy over his refusal to sing the national anthem. A report in South Africa's Sunday Times suggests that Cricket South Africa will ask for an explanation from him after the Johannesburg Test.

The current anthem, first sung in 1996, is a combination of Nkosi Sikelel'iAfrika, which was a symbol of the resistance to Apartheid, and Die Stem (The Call of South Africa), which was adopted as the national anthem by the Apartheid regime in 1957. The issue regarding Kallis was first raised by a Sunday Times reader, Ebrahim Sadak, who wrote in to Cricket South Africa asking whether Kallis thought he was indispensible or "anti new
SA".

Ros Goldin, Cricket South Africa's marketing manager, wrote back to him saying: "While we do encourage all our players to sing the anthem, it is at their discretion whether they wish to do so. Jacques's choice not to sing is certainly not due to his being anti SA or because he thinks he is indispensable! It is simply his right within a democratic environment not to sing."

She went on to cite examples of other sportsman who didn't sing, including some South Africa footballers and rugby players, but Sadak wasn't appeased. Eventually, he got a reply from Kallis himself. "It is my choice whether I sing or do not sing the anthem," it said. "I certainly do not
have to explain my reasons to anyone, especially you. I do have good and valid personal reasons and I intend to keep it that way."

When the newspaper contacted Cricket South Africa, Gerald Majola's response was slightly different from Goldin's. Majola, the chief executive, said that the organisation "insists on having the SA anthem sung".

We haven't heard the last of this issue, especially given the hyper-sensitivity when it comes to matters of national identity. Three years ago, Springbok rugby was plunged into chaos after Geo Cronje, an Afrikaner with a beard straight out of the Voortrekker era, allegedly refused to share a room with a coloured team-mate, Quentin Davids. For all you know, Kallis might just be shy about singing in public, like so many of us, or maybe there's more to his silence than meets the eye.

	'Ali Bacher's love of the game still all too evident. The difference between him and the power-hungry businessmen threatening to take over the game couldn't be starker' © Getty Images

On the eve of the Test, as the evening shadows lengthen, we head to the suburb of Sandton, and a quiet bungalow that's home to a man who was Mr South African cricket for more than a quarter century. Aron Bacher, Ali to nearly everyone, captained one of cricket’s greatest sides, and then earned further renown as one of the best administrators that the game has seen. He eased himself out of the limelight after successfully planning and conducting the 2003 World Cup, and his association to cricket these days is limited to appearances at the Wanderers and SuperSport Park in Centurion.

Bacher walks slowly to the door when we arrive. Two bandages still cover his lower leg, a legacy of a second bypass surgery that he underwent last week, having first gone under the knife way back in 1981. "I've had about six escapes," he tells us with a smile later. "But I feel as good as new now. I walk three times a day, and might even make it to the Wanderers to catch play on Saturday and Sunday."

Bacher is an eloquent speaker, and he has no reluctance to admit to mistakes of the past. The rebel tours, which he helped organise, were a huge mistake in his view, errors of judgement that happened because "we lived in a cocoon during the Apartheid years". "Had I known that Apartheid would end, I would never have tried to organise it. But we felt we needed to keep interest in the game alive."

He narrates some fascinating anecdotes about South Africa being fast-tracked back into international cricket - "The meeting in Sharjah lasted just about 25 minutes, and the Pakistani general who was their board representative was the first to propose our return after having spent all meeting opposing it!" - and the amazing reception that the team
got at Eden Gardens for their first match back in November 1991.

He had woken up early in the morning to watch the Perth Test - "Monty bowled beautifully, didn't he? I can't understand why they didn't play him earlier" - and scoffs at the suggestion that standards have declined in recent years. "You have great players in every generation," he says. "Those like Lara and Tendulkar are every bit as good as [Graeme] Pollock and [Viv] Richards."

There's a wistful sigh when he talks of the team that he captained to a 4-0 rout of Australia back in 1969-70. "We had some amazing players," he said. "Most importantly, we had some great allrounders, guys like [Mike] Proctor, [Tiger] Lance and Eddie Barlow." Almost as an afterthought, he says with a laugh, "Even you could have captained the team, we had so much quality."

As we sip our tea, he enquires about Jagmohan Dalmiya, before shaking his head and saying: "You should know when to quit." And as we're about to take his leave, the phone rings. It's Jonty Rhodes, enquiring about his health. "Makhaya [Ntini] also called me," he says. "As for Jonty, he's a top man."

So's Bacher, with his love of the game still all too evident. The difference between him and the power-hungry businessmen threatening to take over the game couldn't be starker. As we leave, I glance at the portico. Two small plastic cricket bats lie on a shelf. He had talked of how he still loves to play and watch the game with his grandsons, 10 and
7. Who knows? The Bacher years in South African cricket may not yet be over.

Almost 24 hours after they wrapped up the tour game, one of the Indians
was still bowling in the middle at Sedgars Park. Anil Kumble played no
part in the 96-run win over Rest of South Africa, and he bounded in for
half an hour, with Dinesh Karthik keeping wicket. After that, Karthik
batted for a few minutes as Kumble went through the repertoire in
preparation for the first Test.

	Kumble bounded in for 30 minutes in the nets © AFP

On the other side of the pavilion, Rahul Dravid was first into the nets
against the bowling machine, showing little signs of discomfort ahead of a
match where his presence will be absolutely crucial. At an adjacent net,
Virender Sehwag practised against two local boys and Eduan Roos, who once
represented North West Under-19s and is now senior cricket writer for
Rapport, a Sunday newspaper in Afrikaans. It wasn’t quite adequate
preparation for Makhaya and friends, but after minimal time in the middle
in this game, any bat on ball will probably be beneficial.

The most interesting little practice took place in the tiled corridor
behind the main sightscreen, with Greg Chappell throwing plastic balls at
Wasim Jaffer. Jaffer’s form ahead of the first Test has given the team
management a headache or two, and the manner in which the plastic ball
took off from short of a length was a forerunner of what awaits on a
bouncy pitch against South Africa’s quick bowlers.

Back indoors, Louise Vorster, who played some cricket in her day and is
now media manager and director of the women’s academy, hopes that Sedgars
Park will host another international team soon. It’s a gorgeous ground,
surrounded by trees on all sides, and with grass banks for people to sun
themselves while watching a game. However, the lack of a cricket culture
comparable to the main cities means that international games are likely to
be few and far between.

Being a Sunday, the streets of the town are pretty much deserted. The
Indian restaurant we head to in the afternoon is closed – the woman in
charge is busy preparing a farewell dinner for the Indians – and we end up
at McDonald’s instead. Soon after we take our tables, a man in an India
T-shirt walks up to the counter. We didn’t quite catch what Sourav Ganguly
ordered, but hopefully it was something on the diet sheet.

	Cri-Zelda Brits - 'If people aren't aware that we're playing, they won't come and watch us' © Cricinfo Ltd

As the 22-year-old Morne Morkel summoned up a performance that was sure to catch the eye of the national selectors, an established international sat and watched from the space behind the sightscreen. Though Cri-Zelda Brits is only a year older than Morkel, she has already played 22 ODIs and three Tests for her country, opening both the batting and the bowling during the women's World Cup that was held in South Africa in March-April 2005.

Unfortunately, such is the nature of women's cricket that neither she nor her team-mates have played an international since a three-match one-day series against West Indies soon after their World Cup engagements were over.

The World Cup campaign was hardly a success, with four losses and a solitary win against West Indies. Brits, though, played her part, making 72 and taking 4 for 37 in the thrilling one-run victory over West Indies, and contributing scores of 49 and 46 against Australia and England. And in her last outing, in the series against West Indies, she made an unbeaten 62 in an emphatic ten-wicket win.

Brits now coaches the Northwest women's team, who are based in Potchefstroom, and is eagerly looking forward to January, when Pakistan's women's side tour South Africa. Being a female cricketer is no picnic though. Even if the women's game has come under the Cricket South Africa umbrella, the players are still amateurs, who have to work for a living. Brits coaches the provincial team and also runs her own academy, but several of her team-mates are not so fortunate.

The World Cup illustrated just how far South African women's cricket has to go to catch up with the top teams. "The one thing we found we lacked most was experience in the middle," she says. "The Australians, the English and the Indians play a lot of cricket. We just don't play that
often, and it shows."

The game is extremely popular among girls at school, where it competes with hockey. "We have Under-16 and U-19 teams," says Brits. "And we also have inland and coastal leagues." Most of those games are played out in front of non-existent crowds though, and Brits reckons that the game needs to be marketed a lot better to bring in the punters.

"It's a domino effect, isn't it?" she asks. "If people aren't aware that we're playing, they won't come and watch us. Maybe once they do, they'll come back again. It wouldn't be a bad thing, for example, if we could play before the men play a Pro20 game. We could play in the afternoon, like the under-card in boxing, and then they'd play under lights."

How hard is it to keep going though, with neither the financial rewards nor the attention? "You just have to keep the passion going," she says, with a half-smile. "I don't want a situation where girls play the game in school, and then stop because they feel there's no future in it. You have
to satisfy yourself with the inner rewards you get from playing a game you love. At the end of the day, you're not going to make a living from it."

She says that England's Charlotte Edwards, who she has played with at Kent, is her favourite player - "A classy batswoman" - and she also looked up to Jonty Rhodes for the excitement he brought to the game and his guts. And having been on a couple of tours that overlapped with the men, she says that there has been some encouragement from the marquee names as
well. "They've never turned their backs on us," she says. 'Whenever we've met, they've wished us luck."

And what does the future hold, both for Brits, and for women's cricket in this country? "I'd love to see it become at least a semi-professional game," she says. "There'd be more rewards, and more people playing." Can she see that happening? "I hope so," she says, with a shy smile. And as cricket strives to enhance both its audience and its playing base, you can
only wish that her optimism isn't misplaced.

	'Though both Rahul Dravid and Sachin Tendulkar are on the mend, everyone gathered at the outdoor nets was waiting for just one man' © Getty Images

Seldom can one man have so dominated a training session. Sourav Ganguly arrived 90 minutes after everyone else, having driven straight from Oliver Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg, barely pausing to drop off his bags at the Willows Hotel. And though both Rahul Dravid, the captain, and Sachin Tendulkar are on the mend, everyone gathered at the outdoor nets was waiting for just one man.

He made his entrance quietly, shook some hands, exchanged pleasantries, padded up, and then went across to do some stretches under Greg King's supervision. And just before he made the acquaintance of the bowling machine, Anil Kumble had a quiet word and a smile for him.

Ian Frazer led him in, and the first ball sent down from a height sneaked through bat and pad. Reassuringly for those watching, the next few all thudded into the meat of the bat. Ganguly, who averages 32.44 from his five Tests in South Africa, was getting into line and playing mostly from the back foot. At one point, as a ball sped off in the direction of cover, Frazer yelled, "I like it."

By then, Greg Chappell had asked Sreesanth and VRV Singh to be prepared. "Full-match intensity, boys," he said, and soon after Ganguly moved to the adjacent net for his first taste of real pace. The first ball was a bouncer that he ducked, and there was a "well bowled" for the bowler. Sreesanth and VRV were up next, along with a brawny local pace bowler
whose pace wasn't quite in sync with his immense physique.

Sreesanth, who professes to always having been a fan, tested Ganguly with a couple of deliveries that moved off the seam to fly off the bat airily in the direction of point, but a superb fast yorker that VRV bowled was expertly dug out. Then, as the local kept trying to bounce him, Chappell took him to one side and said: "You should follow it up with one that tempts him to drive instead of keeping on bouncing him."

Soon after, with Sreesanth discussing wrist positions with the local boy, Ganguly moved to the next net for the far less arduous task of facing some spin. For a man who had landed on South African soil just five hours earlier, the first glimpses were more than encouraging.

	'The manner of Graeme Smith's dismissal - shuffling across to be struck in line - had all the inevitability of a sunset in the west' © Getty Images

At one in the afternoon, it was doubtful whether the Pro20 game would take place at all, with a leaden sky and distant rumblings of thunder. But by the time we arrived at the ground, an hour before the scheduled start, most of the dark clouds had vanished, and a carnival atmosphere was slowly being built up. Cheerleaders dressed in blue set the tone, and a Bollywood-style dance routine and the national anthems roused a less-than-capacity crowd to fever pitch as the teams walked out to commence the game.

There were ironical cheers when Graeme Smith middled the first ball from Zaheer Khan. His travails have been well documented, and though he managed 16 today, the manner of his dismissal - shuffling across to be struck in line - had all the inevitability of a sunset in the west. Zaheer was in sensational form, conceding just 15, and by the time he completed his spell, India were right on top. Justin Kemp and Albie Morkel briefly had the home fans up on their feet, but all the Indian bowlers contributed significantly in restricting the final total to 126.

Morkel's six off Harbhajan Singh soared high over the scoreboard and into some distant street, and Virender Sehwag, captaining the side a day after he lost the Test-match vice-captaincy, appeared determined to match his efforts with a violent slashed six over point. During the mid-match break, the mystery behind the Pro20 moniker had also been solved, with Kate
Johns, a Public Relations Manager for Standard Bank, explaining why it wasn't called Twenty20 as it is in other parts of the world.

"Three years ago, when we started playing the format, there was another bank called Twenty20 in existence. So, to name it that wasn't possible,"she said. "Since then, we've worked very hard to build up the Pro20 brand.There might be a few issues when the World Cup is hosted next year though, since the ICC call it Twenty20."

For those of us exposed to this form of the game for the first time, it was a revelatory experience. It may appall the purist at times, but on a fairly lively pitch, we witnessed a terrific contest. Charl Langeveldt and Johan van der Wath matched Zaheer in the economy stakes, but the manner in which Sehwag and Mongia played early on ensured that the middle order
weren't left with much to do.

The youngsters in the team have copped a lot of flak in recent times, and it was fitting that it was one of them, Dinesh Karthik, who spearheaded the final surge to the target. The game finished well after the scheduled time, but a penultimate-ball finish kept bums on seats right to the end.

The game also showcased one of the game's characters. Reputed to be a pack-a-day smoker, Roger Telemachus's laid-back approach has prevented him from being anything more than a fringe player. He's 34 now, but the way he huffs and puffs, even during a two-over spell, you'd be forgiven for thinking that he was turning out in a veterans' game. In the age of the super-athlete, he's a throwback to cricket's stone age, when some grog and a smoke or two constituted a break. Gatorade? What's that?

	'It was here that Ali Bacher's world-beating side had its last hurrah, completing a 4-0 rout of Bill Lawry's Australians' © Getty Images

St. George's Park is South Africa's oldest venue, the first ground outside of England and Australia to host an international game. It was also where Ali Bacher's world-beating side had its last hurrah, completing a 4-0 rout of Bill Lawry's Australians before more than two decades of isolation imbued them with near mythical status.

For some of the Indian fans I met before the match started, this was a chance to buck a miserable historical trend. One fan had seen all of India's three one-day matches here, dating back to 1992-93, and been disappointed every time. The last defeat was the most humiliating, with luminaries like Joseph Angara and Thomas Odoyo sending them plummeting to
a 70-run defeat.

The ground has a fantastic atmosphere, with the stands and even the press box so close to the action. The beer sales were in full swing by early afternoon, with the sun beating down and the infamous wind keeping still. And the Indian flags were being waved loud and proud, despite the emphatic nature of the defeats at Durban and Cape Town.

Graeme Smith walked out for the national anthem giving one of the mascots a piggyback ride. It's a nice touch that the authorities back home would do well to adopt. Not only do the anthems gets the crowd primed for the occasion, but it also provides an invaluable experience for each small boy and girl asked to escort the players onto the field. There's a now-famous
photograph from a Liverpool-Everton match in 1996, with a pint-sized 10-year-old lining up as the Everton mascot.

Wayne Rooney went on to bigger and better things, and even if none of the kids who lined up this afternoon scale such sporting heights, occasions such as these help immeasurably in inculcating a love of the game. Australia do it with the Milo-sponsored hit-abouts during the breaks in games, and India could do worse than to follow the example shown by the southern hemisphere nations. Who knows, the next Sachin Tendulkar might be the one who escorts him onto the field during a game at the Wankhede.

	D'Oliveira: one of South Africa's finest © Getty Images

Despite the fact that he was nearing his 37th birthday, Basil D'Oliveira was considered a certainty when England's selectors met on August 28 1968 to pick a team to tour South Africa. A day earlier, England had managed to draw the Ashes series, with D'Oliveira's first-innings 158 instrumental in a 226-run victory at The Oval. But with many in the corridors of power being fossils from the days of Empire, D'Oliveira's name was left off the list, a display of spinelessness that delighted South Africa's pernicious Apartheid regime.

Those with a conscience protested against the blatantly political decision and when Tom Cartwright pulled out through injury, Dolly - as he was known - was called up. But there would be no triumphant return to the Southern Cape for one of South Africa's greatest cricketing sons. Enraged by the MCC going back on its initial decision, John Vorster's government refused to let D'Oliveira play on its soil. The tour was scrapped and though they thumped Australia 4-0 in a home series a year later, South Africa were soon to feel the cold touch of international isolation.

D'Oliveira, who was born in Signal Hill in Cape Town, never graced Newlands, a venue befitting the stature of a player who averaged 40.06 despite making all his 44 appearances in his twilight years. In an attempt to make amends for that, the Sunday Times Centenary Heritage Project unveiled an art memorial outside the stadium gates half an hour before South Africa and India started off their one-day international.

Donovan Ward, a Cape Town-based artist, conceptualised and created the memorial, a steel sheet on which a jagged hole has been punched by a cricket ball linked to a broken chain. "I focused on the role sport can play in breaking down barriers or boundaries and making the seemingly impossible real," said Ward.

D'Oliveira, now 75, suffers from Alzheimer's disease and couldn't attend the function, but an email sent on behalf of his family expressing their gratitude was read out after Ray Mali, president of Cricket South Africa, unveiled the memorial. Several of those who played club cricket with D'Oliveira before he departed for England in 1960 - the journalist and broadcaster John Arlott played a pivotal role in the move - were also present.

Speaking to Cricinfo later in the day, Omar Henry, who became the first coloured cricketer to represent South Africa in 1992-93, said that D'Oliveira had been a pioneer. "He was an inspiration, not just to me, but to hundreds of others," he said. "When he went to play in England, and was followed by the likes of Dik Abed, we realised that we too could do it."

Henry's connection with D'Oliveira goes beyond that. Soon after the England tour was cancelled, D'Oliveira came to Cape Town to do some coaching. One of the teenage schoolboys to impress him was Henry. "He wanted to take me to England with him, but my parents refused. I ended up going only when I was 24. And when I played for Scotland, we had a special
relationship with Worcestershire, so I met him again. He always took such a special interest in my game."

When you ask Henry why names like D'Oliveira and Abed are almost an afterthought when talk veers round to South Africa's lost generation, he smiles wryly. "It's deliberate, I think. People are well aware of what they did, and what more they could have achieved, but they'd rather not
talk about it."

Hopefully, initiatives like this, to honour one of the true greats of the game, will go a long way towards correcting such historical inequity.

	Too much cricket makes Jack......Omar Henry echoes a sentiment that is gathering strength © Getty Images

Omar Henry now coaches the university cricket team in Stellenbosch, but as recently as two years ago, he was convener of the selection panel that picked the side to tour India (2004-05). These days, Henry, who became the first Coloured cricketer to play for South Africa in 1992-93, focuses more on his family, and his 14-year-old son Riyad, who aspires to be a seam bowler, rather than a spinner like his old man.

"I loved the work I did with Cricket South Africa," says Henry, "but you spend so much time away from home that you wonder whether it's worth it." It's a feeling that the likes of Graham Thorpe and Marcus Trescothick have expressed in the past, but with the game's administrators interested only in shoehorning in more and more matches, who's listening?

Henry says he's excited by some of the young talent coming through in South Africa, though there continue to be whispers about the transformation process that will never please every section of society. This is a country moving away from its racist past, but the undertones can
still be felt at times. During the Durban game, when people were encouraged to send their SMS messages to be flashed on the giant screen, one person wrote: "Why are there so many traitors in this ground? You should go live in India then" - a view inspired no doubt by Norman Tebbitt, and the multitude of Indian flags that were being waved before the evening
collapse.

One of those in the media enclosure that evening as things fell apart was Sunil Gavaskar. A journalist tried to put him on the spot about the greatest innings he ever played, but Gavaskar wouldn't bite the bait. He was then offered a choice - was it the 221 that nearly took India to
victory at the Oval (1979) or was it the epic 96 in his final Test at Bangalore? Again, the man himself refused to pick.

Later though, he told a friend: "I honestly don't recall a single thing about those two innings - not how they bowled, or what the fields were like, or what shots I played." According to him, he was in such a zone, with concentration and technique in perfect sync, that nothing else mattered. What the current lot of Indian batsmen wouldn't do to scale such heights on this tour.

	Barry Richard's wand pales in comparison to Mahendra Singh Dhoni's mace © Sunandan Lele

The drive from Johannesburg to Durban is a beautiful one, but once you enter Kwa Zulu Natal, you pass the scene of many a battle. There's Estcourt, where King Dingane's Zulu warriors massacred the Voortrekkers from the western cape, and Volkrust (The nation rests), where Boer soldiers gathered to regroup after the first war of independence. Perhaps it's a good thing that an embattled Indian team subjected to relentless criticism in recent months flew down, even if it meant skipping the chance to pass through towns like Pietermaritzburg, where Mahatma Gandhi was thrown off the train.

Kingsmead occupies a special place in South African cricket lore. It was here that Graeme Pollock scored the last of his seven Test centuries, an epic 274 (401 balls) that inspired a crushing innings-and-129-run thumping of Bill Lawry's Australians. Along the way, he added 103 with Barry Richards, who smashed 20 fours and a six en route to 140 in only his second Test.

In the media centre, there's a glass cabinet that houses bats used by both - the Gray Nicholls favoured by Richards and the Duncan Fearnley blade that Pollock used to such devastating effect before the isolation years. A senior Indian journalist doing a story on modern equipment for a TV channel managed to borrow one of Mahendra Singh Dhoni's bats, and we stare in amazement at how the new differs from the old. Pollock was reputed to use one of the heaviest bats of his time, but next to Dhoni's ship-hull-shaped one, it's an average Joe standing next to Jean Claud van Damme. The Richards bat may as well be Twiggy.

	'When he was around the very idea of anyone else opening the batting is almost sacrilegious' © Getty Images

As the drizzle continued and an expectant crowd gradually emptied out, the stadium’s sound system keeps up a steady stream of modern rock hits to keep the feet tapping, even as the skies above the beautiful green outfield become ever darker. There was not much to do at the Wanderers but sample the grub and wander the corridors, bumping into a childhood hero or two. With so many cricket luminaries on commentary, the easiest thing to do to pass the time was to think up a dream team based on those present, either with SABC, SuperSport or ESPN-Star.

The first name on the teamsheet was invariably the easiest. For most Indians of my generation, and especially those fortunate enough to watch that matchless 96 in his farewell Test, the very idea of anyone else opening the batting is almost sacrilegious. Alongside Sunil Gavaskar would be a man who many reckoned was in the same league, someone who scored 508 runs in four Tests before South Africa’s dubious politics ended his international career. Barry Richards’s attacking ways would also be the perfect foil for Gavaskar’s more studied approach.

Two more South Africans follow. The first played for Australia before heading back to his native land in the mid-1980s. Kepler Wessels made a century on debut against England, and was as pugnacious as they come. Just below him in the batting order is an individual who most think of as Shane Warne’s bunny. But against teams that didn’t wear the baggy green cap, Daryll Cullinan was a formidable batsman, a fluent strokemaker who managed the transition from child prodigy to international star far better than most.

Zaheer Abbas comes next, with more than 100 first-class centuries to his name. The scourge of many an Indian attack, he combined a languid wristy approach with a tremendous appetite for runs. That desire to excel was also what fuelled Ravi Shastri’s career, even as those blessed with more talent fell by the wayside. His left-arm spin fetched him 151 Test wickets, and he remains the only Indian opener to have scored a double-century in Australia.

The allrounders’ slots are filled by Wasim Akram and Neil Johnson. The left hand of God, according to Mike Selvey of the Guardian, Akram was the most versatile pace bowler of his age, with a repertoire unmatched by his peers. Even as he raged against the dying light in the 2003 World Cup, he produced a spell of such brilliance at the Wanderers that it took the innings of a lifetime from Andrew Symonds to save Australian blushes.

Johnson, who left Zimbabwe before its cricket went to hell, is still remembered by those who watched his sterling displays with bat and ball in the 1999 World Cup. A medium-pace bowler of some guile, he could also smack them around the park, an invaluable quality to possess while coming in at No.7.

Syed Kirmani, he of the bald pate, and the flamboyant moustache, keeps wicket, a job he performed with such distinction for a decade. Apart from Nayan Mongia, none of those who succeeded him in the India cap showed the same kind of class with gloves and bat.

Allan Donald shares the new ball with Wasim. The scoreboard at the Wanderers kept flashing statistics as the rain came down, and one of the figures to be up in lights was his 5 for 29 on South Africa’s reintroduction to the international arena after the isolation years. Those that watched his searing pace and aggression that afternoon at the Eden Gardens knew that they were witnessing the start of a remarkable career, and his incredible duel with Michael Atherton at Trent Bridge in 1998 is unlikely to be forgotten by South African cricket aficionados who still wonder how that series got away.

The last man in is Maninder Singh, one of cricket’s what-might-have-beens. Blessed with wonderful loop and the ability to turn the ball prodigiously, Maninder was once heir apparent to India’s great spin tradition. Yet, within two seasons of taking 7 for 46 against Pakistan in the Bangalore Test of 1987, he was gone, lost to the twilight that also swallowed up the likes of Laxman Sivaramakrishnan.

On paper, it’s a team more suited for Test cricket, but the great players never had any difficulty adapting to the demands of the hit-and-miss version. Even Gavaskar, so derided for a 60-over crawl to 36 in 1975, finished his career with a blistering ODI century against New Zealand. And given how wonderfully he led India in the World Championship of Cricket in 1985, he’s my choice to lead this imaginary XI. On their day, they could knock over a few teams, certainly some of those playing international cricket right now.

	Sachin Tendulkar tries his hand at seam bowling ahead of India's first ODI against South Africa at Johannesburg © Getty Images

With rain dampening the spirits and chilling the bones, South Africa's cricketers have to traverse the 35km to SuperSport Pak in Centurion to get some outdoor practice in. As we follow the same trail, we see vast empty plains that are a far cry from the organised streets and bustle of Sandton where the Indian team is staying.

As you approach the ground, you begin to see glimpses of South Africa's unsavoury past. Centurion itself was formerly Verwoerdburg, named after Hendrik Verwoerd, prime architect of Apartheid and a man whose tenure saw the Sharpeville massacre and Nelson Mandela's trial for treason. The road to the stadium is also redolent of the past - John Vorster Drive being a tribute to the prime minister whose intransigence over Basil D'Oliveira's inclusion in England's tour party (1970) led to the Springboks feeling the cold touch of isolation for two decades.

The streets are nearly deserted as we drive towards the stadium gate, and a journalist who was present for the India-Pakistan clash during the 2003 World Cup summons up memories of the day when the entire area was awash with flags and banners from the subcontinent. Centurion is now home to the Nashua Titans, formerly Northern Transvaal, and a franchise that has traditionally been one of the lesser powers in the domestic scheme of things. As you walk into reception, you're greeted by pencil sketches of some of the stars, both yesteryear and current, but apart from Fanie de Villiers, who scripted that epic win in Sydney in January 1994, there are
few names that would be recognised the world over. The Wanderers or Newlands it certainly isn't.

The South African session is a mixture of intense focus and levity. In the 15 minutes that I watch, there are only two no-balls, with the bowlers showing impressive awareness of the popping crease, and at the other end, Herschelle Gibbs and Shaun Pollock - who always appears to come out with a new bat or two - crunch a few powerful shots that endanger any birds that might still be on the branches of faraway trees.

Out on the field, Jonty Rhodes hits up catches and supervises fielding drills, with AB de Villiers taking a couple of stunning catches on the run. It's a luxury that the Indians don't enjoy, with rain in Johannesburg restricting them to another session at the indoor nets. A surprise awaits
when we get there. Virender Sehwag, rated doubtful for Sunday's game, is in one net, striking the ball with such good timing that it renders talk of a serious injury superfluous.

Sachin Tendulkar practises some seam-up bowling, while Ajit Agarkar and Irfan Pathan run in with real purpose. At the second of the nets, Greg Chappell is full of encouraging words as Mohammad Kaif laces some lovely drives against the bowling machine. There's certainly no lack of effort or preparation, with each man spending plenty of time against the bowling machine pegged to different lengths. For Sehwag, several of the deliveries dart in off a good length, a noticeable weakness in recent times, but they invariably disappear into the side netting off the middle of the bat.

Rahul Dravid's press conference in the small gymnasium upstairs is a subdued affair in contrast to some of the hatchet-jobs that masquerade as press conferences back home, and his relaxed manner is reflected by the happy smiles on Indian faces as they leave for the hotel. It remains to be seen whether they'll still be smiling come Sunday night. Makhaya Ntini, never short of a word or a funny gesture, and his bowling mates will certainly do their best to ensure that isn't the case.

	The breathtaking Wanderers © Keith Lane

It can’t fail to impress you. You might have seen the beauty of the Adelaide Oval, the colourful chaos of Eden Gardens and the awe-inspiring amphitheatre that is the MCG on Boxing Day. But there’s something about the Wanderers, even with the stands empty and the field abandoned, that makes you aware of the history of the place. For the Johnny Come Latelys, it’s where South Africa chased down 434 to win a one-day match against Australia last March, but for those who like to go back a little further, it’s a venue graced by the likes of Dudley Nourse, Hugh Tayfield, Neil Adcock, Graeme Pollock and the legendary Transvaal sides of the 1970s and ’80s, many of whom never got to play an international game.

Greg Chappell played here with an invitational side in the mid-70s, and has no doubts about the quality of the team he faced then. “I’d say that West Indies [of the late ’70s and ’80s], the current Australians and our lot in the mid-70s were the best sides that I’ve ever watched. This bunch was as good, definitely in that bracket,” he said, referring to the likes of Pollock, Barry Richards, Clive Rice, Vincent van der Bijl and Garth le Roux.

With a mere smattering of people inside the grounds, we can afford to walk in through the players’ tunnel, and the grassy embankment on one side offers a breathtaking view, both of the pavilion on one side and the building that houses the media centre on the other. As some of us shake off our jetlag, we pose for pictures, and even lie down on the grass. Player or journalist, most of us were fans first, and when you stare up at the view and the sky above, your faith in the beautiful game – shaken by the scandals of the past few months – is restored.

And as we’re about to head back, the ever-colourful Makhaya Ntini emerges from the dressing room with a terrified pigeon in his hands. He sets it down on a picnic table and then exchanges wisecracks with a few journalists before going back to the serious business of preparing for Sunday. “Be nice to the Indians,” someone tells him. “Be nice, eh?” he says with a laugh. Something about his demeanour tells you that he’ll be anything but once the umpires call Play.