Bedlam at The Wanderers. An upheaval in the world of cricket as a day of celebration is reduced to chaos by the folly of man.
Outside the ground, dozens of protesters holding placards telling of torture in Zimbabwe. Angry faces saying that cricket must not have blood on its hands. At a hotel nearby, Shane Warne looks shocked as he explains that illegal substances had been found in medications taken to reduce fluids in his body.
Previously he had been praising his diet and boasting of the powders that were involved. He had looked trim and eager, and was looking forward to enjoying himself on this stage. Hard to condemn or defend on the information provided. So much in life is a matter of degree. Had he been cutting corners?
Australians are inclined to assume that their own are innocent and those suspicious fellows from far away guilty as charged. But it does sound like a minor matter, an oversight.
Warne has been tested often and passed every time. He speaks out against performance enhancing drugs taken by cheats and then goes to pack his bags. It is hard to see him returning for the later rounds because the offence was committed in a game trying to restore its reputation. Warne apologises to the team and heads for home and the media scrum that awaits. Naturally, he hopes to return and, meanwhile, wishes the boys well.
It is another drama in a life that has risen high and fallen low. Even the locals are sad that he will miss the tournament as previously hostile radio stations are inundated with calls and journalists wander around saying that he will be missed. Everyone wonders what can happen next, wanting to enjoy the cricket and weary of the endless distractions that surround this simple game of bat and ball.
Worse follows as news arrives that England is still refusing to play in Harare, defying Nelson Mandela and their contractual obligations.
The Opposition leader is being defended by a senior ANC lawyer, so, perhaps, Africa is finally awakening to the conduct of the former hero hanging on to power in his destroyed country. England's withdrawal provokes fury in African cricket circles for the manner in which its World Cup is being hurt by the white countries. Dr Ali Bacher arrives to give an ultimatum. He has worked hard to make this tournament a success and thinks this matter should have been settled weeks ago.
Long-standing fears of a cricketing split on racial lines return, and a split between white and black does seem closer than ever. In a tit for tat move, South Africa threatens to withdraw from its forthcoming tour of England. Isn't this supposed to be a game? Hopes of a glorious month are fading fast amidst the scandals and controversies. But the cricket has been good. Perhaps, it is strong enough to survive even these extraordinary events.
All this talk before a ball has been bowled in Australia's opening match. At least the cricket takes its place as supporters stream into the ground, enduring numerous searches and security checks. Inside the ground, the match begins with shouts from the crowd, violent roars about Shoaib from a small section of uncouth Australians, and locals roaring their support for the Pakistanis and abusing their opponents. For good measure.
The noise is deafening. The Australians look unsettled and early wickets fall as Wasim Akram recalls the brilliance of his pomp. The openers fail and Damien Martyn goes first ball to a trimmer. Nor is there any Bevan or Lehmann to save the boat. Fortunately, Ricky Ponting holds firm, confirming his leadership qualities, by keeping his head in the storm.
Andrew Symonds helps to steady the innings as Australia desperately seeks to improve its position on a day that started badly and deteriorated till their partnership began. Pakistan continued to attack with gusto as the noise grew louder. Shoaib bowled furiously and Inzamam looked fit and well. Pakistan has played rotten cricket all summer but World Cup is different, bringing together all the best things in the game, and some of the worst.
Deep into the night the Australians fought to turn this crucial match around. Meanwhile, a young man, the greatest spinner the game has known and amongst the finest entertainers sat in his hotel room pondering upon the mixture of bad luck and poor judgement that had denied him his last chance to appear on the fields where he has so often stood, tossing the ball from hand to hand, wondering which wonder to perform.
