Pitches and plodders

As the day wore on, you wondered whether it would have made the slightest bit of difference if right-wing vandals - who desecrated the Wankhede Stadium pitch in 1999 to kill off hopes of an India-Pakistan Test being played there - and their pickaxes had been given the freedom to vent their frustrations on this surface. You also questioned the curator's assertion that this was a new pitch, and not some drop-in turf of 1939 Timeless-Test vintage specially flown in from Durban.

On a surface that carried all the threat of a fluffy pillow, India's bowlers toiled with patently unspectacular results. Murali Kartik didn't bowl all morning, and Anil Kumble resorted to coming from round the wicket in a bid to perplex rather than attack, while Harbhajan Singh let off steam by slamming the ball into the ground after a fumble in the outfield, and sarcastically clapping his first wicket.

The batsmen showed little initiative save for the middle session, and the engrossing tussles that lit up the recent series against Australia were conspicuously absent. Then, faced by batsmen who were brimful of confidence and brio, all three spinners thrived, when they weren't being hammered. Here, faced with the cricketing equivalent of ten men behind the ball, India had neither the creativity nor the explosive power to break through.

South Africa's batsmen don't deserve criticism, though. Rank outsiders when they first arrived, they have fulfilled their aim of consolidating first before attempting to realise loftier ambitions. But as they plodded along, an enthusiastic holiday crowd was reduced to cheering Sachin Tendulkar's pick-up-and-throws from the fine-leg fence, and breaking out into arbitrary Mexican Waves that hinted at signs of life that the game had long since lost.

If the Gabba in Brisbane is the pitch with something for everyone, then this Green Park special can surely be nominated in the nothing-for-anyone category. This was among ten pitches relaid under the supervision of experts from New Zealand a couple of years ago. If the snooze-fests against New Zealand at Mohali and Ahmedabad last year and this Test are any indication, someone needs to take a long hard look at the experts' qualifications. If those are above board, then one can only conclude that the gulf between intention and execution is as wide as the Bering Strait.

Andrew Hall, whose laborious 454-ball vigil for 163 couldn't quite displace Mudassar Nazar - cricket's Tortoise King managed 114 from 449 balls and 591 minutes against England at Lahore in 1977-78 - from the top step of the slow-scoring Hall of Fame, was one of two men likely to keep sepia-tinted images of today's play. He reined in his natural aggression to outdo Jackie McGlew, who had been as adhesive as his name suggests during an somnolent 105 that spanned 575 minutes at Durban in 1957-58 - 13 minutes fewer than Hall was at the crease.

Like Hall, Zander de Bruyn was infinitely patient and impressively composed. With nearly ten years of first-class cricket behind him, he showcased the form that fetched him 1048 runs at 65.5 in the last domestic season. Offering as he does a seam-bowling option, the 29-year-old de Bruyn could well be the workhorse allrounder that South Africa have lacked since Brian McMillan - he of the bucket hands at slip - exited Test cricket in 1998.

For Green Park's old-timers, Hall's effort was still more entertaining than ML Jaisimha's 505-minute crawl to 99 in 1960-61. While McGlew, a man who liked to play his strokes, had been under orders from selectors, Jaisimha's steps were paralysed by the fear of losing to Pakistan. That same trepidation contributed to the wretched 58 (300 minutes, 252 balls) made by Rizwan-uz-Zaman, plodder supreme, at Ahmedabad in a match otherwise remembered for Sunil Gavaskar's 10,000th run.

There will be some rose-tinted spectacles that look back and view such encounters as intriguing games of cat-and-mouse. But for those unfortunate enough to have to pay for the privilege of parking their bums on seats - Pakistan managed a munificent 110 runs in the day during Rizwan's magnum opus - it can't be much fun, not when both cat and mouse appear to have been sedated on a pitch fit only for sticks of dynamite.