Tour Diary CWC 2003: CWC Final: Jo'burg, here we come!!!

Front & Centre, testy in his yellow suit.

Does it get any better than this? Well, to be honest, it does. There's one game left for the mighty Aussies, and it's the most important one they'll play for the next 4 years.

They've been thoroughly comprehensive so far in this tournament, but it will all amount to nothing if they lose on Sunday.

After the professional way they dealt with the Lankans in Pretoria, the Aussies faced up to their arch rivals, the Kiwis, at Andy Bichel's home ground - Port Elizabeth. It was billed as a blockbuster, and the crowd was not let down.

The hill was packed to the brim with a mixture of Aussies and Kiwis, creating an atmosphere which rivalled that of the England game. All the Saffas that turned out were there to support the Kiwis, so again the odds were against the Fanatics. And the start offered by the bane of Aussie batsmen, Shane Bond, did not help the cause on the hill. There was a huge amount of banter getting flung around as Bondy ripped the heart of our batting line up.

Enter the 'B' bros. Bevo and the Bich once again came to our rescue, and by the time Binger smashed the last two balls for 6, the Aussies had silenced the vocal and cocky Kiwi supporters.

Unexpectedly, the Kiwi batting line up offered little resistance. The Fanatics were in full voice by the fall of the last wicket, and the Aussies had sealed their place in the final.

So it was off to Toby Joe's once more for the huge legion of Aussie fans. Binger and Boof made their customary appearance, and lapped up the accolades heaped upon them while enjoying a very quiet drink.

The Fanatics were up early the next morning to begin their long drive to Durban. To put in perspective, could you imagine driving from Melbourne to Sydney just to watch the Aussies destroy a bunch of hapless Kenyans? That's exactly what we did, stopping of at Coffee Bay on the way up. We stayed at acool hostel by the name of The Coffee Shack were we sampled some of the local offerings and enjoyed a bit of traditional Afrikans dancing.

We arrived in Durban late the following afternoon, and quietened down in preparation for the Kenyans. I won't drag this one out, but merely say it was the worst game we'd seen. After Binger's early display of true pace bowling which netted him a hat trick (and did the boy love it what!?), the game fizzled to be boring as all hell as the Aussie bowlers failed to seal the deal, and the top order struggled for the 3rd game running. The only action we saw was from a bunch of cocky Indian folk who felt it their duty to make arse of themselves by abusing the Aussie contingent. Things got a little heated, with one 50 year old man getting unduly rough with my flag. Apparantly one isn't allowed to wave one's flag within 5 feet of another one's bald head.

We hit Tiger, Tiger that night, the scene of the Kiwis nightclub brawl. I was to find out that sandals were not to be worn inside, so it was left up to Col to smuggle out Simmo's shoes for me to put on. With my sandals stuffed down my jeans, I wandered on through with an innocent air about me.

I survived about 3 hours, a few rounds of sambuccas, double vodka redbulls, and double gins before the doorman who would not let me in earlier tapped me on the shoulder.

'How did you get in here?'

By this time, I obviously had my sandals back on, so I knew I was stuffed.

'I just walked straight past you,' I confidently replied.

He gave me a cheap shot as I exited the establishment, but I'll be back there tonight - with my shoes on of course.

The next morning, it was back in the car for our trek back to PE, stopping off at Port St John's. A cool place overlooking some awesome mountainous scenery. We feasted on some seafood before an early night. It was up early the next morning to knock off the final 650 kms.

Strangely, PE hadn't changed in the few days we'd been gone. Everyone still remembered us, and everyone still was barracking against the Aussies. After a hit of beach cricket involving about 20 or 30 blokes, and then a game of touch involvoing Jock - the Aussie fitness coach - we were well and truly knackered and ready for some St Paddy's day drinks. We chatted to Hoggy and the Bich on the beach about various things, including Willetton and it's premier night spots. The boys seemed in good spirits (as you would be), and confident that they were not going to let slip this opportunity toy go undefeated through this world cup.

St Paddy's day turned out to be a quiet affair, with a few nerves about the place for the first game in some weeks which would mean something.

Early to the game again, and you could feel the finals atmosphere in the air. Gilly walking left the crowd in stunned silence. But it's testament to the man of how good a bloke he is. The news reports since have shown that he truly is the Pat Rafter of Australian cricket.

As our top order came and went again, that man again rose above his knockers and smashed his way to amatch winning 91 not out. I said at the start of the tournament that i hoped Symmo would be there in the Final, because it would mean he'd have had a good tournament. He's such an explosive player, and one of the best fielders in the world, he can win matches single handedly, as he's shown twice in this tournament. Plus, he's a pretty cool dude.

By the time our innings had finished, the Fanatics had rediscovered their voice of the early stages of the World Cup, bringing out all the old faves as seen in the rain delays of the Holland match. We were heading to the final, and Binger was the one that sealed the deal. He destroyed stumps and generally sent the shits through the Lankan batting once again. The highlight though was the Bich's run out, showing he can field as well as bat, bowl and push weights with the best of them (the man is HUGE).

The rain brought an early end to proceedings, but it did not dampen the entusiasm of the Fanatics, who stayed out in the rain singing their hearts out until the game was officially called off.

The celebrations at Toby's that night were of the scale. We're going to the World Cup final, and by God we're bringing that cup back home.

In the past week, the hardened Fanatics have covered somewhere near 5000k's, by plane, car, and now bus. We were on the Translux at 7 am after getting back at 4 am from Toby's. The supposed 13 hour trip to Durban (to watch the second semi) took around 18, leaving us shattered to the bone. We are recovering today before heading to the ground to see the Kenyans beat up the Indians. Whatever the result, the Aussies are primed for back to back.

Whether you're in Oz or London or anywhere else across the world, tune in on Sunday for another great moment in Australian sport. Punter's men are just starting to peak, and the batsman are all due for a score. On a belter of a pitch, it's going to be a belter of a game... and a belter of a night. Bring it on!!!

iamthemanintheyellowsuit