World Cup Diary (30 May 1999)

30 May 1999

World Cup Diary

The Electronic Telegraph

All that work, all that effort and, once again, nothing to show for it. At the end of our heavy defeat by South Africa it was slightly humiliating, me walking out to bat with so much time left and no chance of us winning. What do you do? Draw it out or let everyone get down the pub a bit earlier than expected? Whatever you do it's wrong. At half-time we genuinely believed we had a chance but today we weren't up to it. I swapped shirts with my fellow No 7 Shaun Pollock - all I need now for a complete set is Kenny Dalglish, Kevin Keegan and George Best. A subdued evening is spent trying to forget today's game.

A bit of a lie-in but don't want to spend all morning in bed as I want to spend a couple of hours with my children before I set off for Nottingham. Playing with Alex and Bethan helps take my mind off yesterday's defeat which still leaves me shaking my head whenever I think about it. Alex's face drops when I tell him I am going away again. I am beginning to wonder how much longer I can do this to him. Predictably the press have come down on us like a ton of bricks although the FA Cup final and the reported actions of a certain rugby player seem to be grabbing more of the headlines. My journey to the hotel is an enjoyable one as I listen to the Australian bowlers getting a pasting from the Pakistani batsmen.

Afternoon practice before tomorrow's match against Zimbabwe turns out to be a bit of a nightmare because of showers and we eventually abandon the session. In the home dressing room at Trent Bridge there is a sign on the wall saying 'Control the controllables'. This wasn't one of them. While waiting we had a team meeting where we quickly went over Saturday's game and then talked in depth about Zimbabwe. Feelings towards this lot run a bit deeper than I imagined. I get the impression there is some unfinished business to be settled tomorrow on the back of what happened 21/2 years ago. I have kept my place, which some in the press have been questioning. Come on Gus. Show them. I also took the opportunity of going into the pavilion Long Room to look at the honours board. Seeing my name up there does wonders for my confidence and reminds me that I can actually bowl.

Well, what a pleasant day. We put in a very strong performance, comfortably beating Zimbabwe by seven wickets. I'd be lying if I said we weren't slightly apprehensive and nervous going into this match as our record against them is not good. They have said some pretty provocative things to the media during the build-up to this game so it is satisfying for us to be sitting in our dressing room now thinking they may be rueing their comments. After figures of one for 27 I am looking forward to a couple of beers this evening.

My body feels as though it has been run over by a train as I climb out of bed. These games are hard, intense affairs and you need a bit of time to recover for the next one. Morning is spent playing in a grudge golf match. Myself and Robert Croft are taking on Nasser Hussain and Bob Cottam, our bowling coach. They were no match for us. We hammered them 5 and 4. In matches like this gamesmanship is pushed to the limit. The timing of the odd cough and word of advice means you have to be a pretty strong character to cope.

My thoughts on arriving at our hotel in Birmingham is that cricket must be taking off. There are dozens of young girls behind barriers in the car park. Sadly, they aren't here to catch a glimpse of Adonis-like creatures like myself and Neil Fairbrother. Boyzone are staying in our hotel.

The afternoon was spent watching Indian batsmen smash the ball to all parts of Taunton. They scored 373 and Sachin Tendulkar didn't even get a look-in. We've got them on Saturday. Should be fun. Well done Manchester United. All of us, including this Liverpool fan, shout for them as we watched the European Cup final. A great evening.

Practice at Edgbaston this morning where, sadly, the nets weren't good enough to have a full-on session. I was one of the guinea pigs sent in first to see what they were like. Twenty minutes of me picking my stumps up, rubbing my inside thigh and generally failing to locate the middle of my bat was enough to convince the rest they only wanted throw-downs. We then did some training - a 5km run being my gesture. More golf this afternoon at Graeme Hick's benefit competition. The way I'm striking the ball I'm beginning to wonder why I didn't take up golf all those years ago. At 33 I'd be approaching my prime - not the glue factory!

Robert Croft is chirpy this morning. His side won yesterday's golf day and he collected a set of golf clubs for his troubles. The other three must be worn out carrying him around for 18 holes. You can always tell when a big game is on the horizon as the atmosphere among us becomes a lot quieter. This weekend is an enormous one for several teams, including us. The afternoon is spent watching cricket and writing for The Sunday Telegraph. Not even time to go shopping today. All say aagh.

Source :: Electronic Telegraph (https://www.telegraph.co.uk)