Tour Diary CWC 2003: The Grand Finale

After a World Cup dominated by scandals, whinging South Africans, and the might of the Aussies, it had all come down to one match between the two best teams of the past 6 weeks.

India had only lost one game - a drubbing at the hands of Australia - while Australia continued its dominance in world cricket.

After travelling back to Durban to watch another boring Kenya game, we all trekked north to where it all started for the Australians. It was nervous times for the Fanatics, some of which had followed the team's every move for 43 days.

India had shown some good form in the past mointh and a half, albeit against inferior opposition. Still, the fact remained that they had beaten the same teams as Australia just as emphatically. The stage was set.

Some Aussies supporters who had latched onto the greatest supporting group from down under were still without tickets on the morning of the event.

But with our network of contacts across Joberg, and our now huge status amongst the general community, the Fanatics were able to swing tickets for all Aussies who needed them. Some were paying obscene prices, but we managed to secure tickets for around R1000-R1500.

Considering some were going for around R4000-R5000, there were were smiles all round as we entered the ground.

The Fanatics stuck to their routine of rising early and staking their claim on the grass embankment.

However, without tickets to this part of the ground, some clever ticket swapping was required. It took no less than an hour to get everyone in, just in time to see a cock up which must rate up their with Nassar Hussain in Brisbane. Winning the toss on an absolute road, Surav Ganguly decided to bowl first against a line up headed by 3 of the top 5 batsmen in world cricket.

Surely it was a joke. As it turned out, the only joke at the Wanderers on this particular day was the Indian captain.

The players filed onto the ground for the national anthems. Our mate Harbajan Singh was not subtle in his digit-abuse towards the Fanatics, clearly showing us his longest finger in what only damned him for the day.

The rendition of the national anthem was hearty to say the least, and not one square inch of Australian flesh was without goose bumps.

After 43 days, 10000+ kilometers, and a hell of a lot of singing, the time had finally come.

Over number 1: 6 wides, 2 no balls, and a cracking straight drive from an out-of-sorts Matthew Hayden. Only arrogance would suggest the game was already over. I turned to Col and said, 'Game over.'

We watched on in awe as Gilly smashed the opening bowlers to all parts of the ground, as he has done all tournament. The opening bowlers, who had supposedly been the back bone of India's success (Sachin aside) were despatched for 10 an over as the Fanatics chanted:

Cheeer up Javagal,
Oh what can it mean to a,
Shit Indian bowler in a,
Shit cricket team.

By the twelfth over, Surav was already calling on his part timers, but it was to no avail. The run rate did not dip below 6 an over for the whole innings as first Gilly, then Punter and Marto made the Indians look like the Mukinbuddin under 12's.

I know you all saw the gaem, so I won't harp on, but one thing has to be said. Ricky Ponting's innings was one which oozed of class. I am getting goose bumps just writing about it. He played every shot in the book with complete authority. His footwork was the quickest I've seen since (dare I say it) Dean Jones, and then some. The way he came down the track to Harbajan - supposedly the premier spinner of the tournament - to hit him for successive sixes was breathtaking.

The fact that Marto looked sluggish in scoring 88 off 84 balls at the other end speaks for itself.

Chasing 2/359, the Indians were gone.

359 in a World Cup final.

Surely this is the greatest team ever assembled. And we were without some of our premier players.

Indian innings; over number 1: Glenn McGrath gets smashed for four off his fourth ball. Sachin looks determined. This could be a whirlwind. True - it was one of the quickest innings I've seen him play. 5 balls, and Pigeon did it all himself. Caught and bowled... game over. We were going spastic on the hill. There was debauchery taking place.

Although Sehwag put up a brave performance, Boofer put an end to that with a run out not dissimialr to one that he missed in 1999. The sonign started again:

Boof there it is
Boof there it is

The rain tried desperately to intervene, but it just put off the inevitable as the Fanatics sang loud and proud through the delay.

Marto dropped a sitter right in front of the Indians who had been giving him grief all day, but then pulled off a cracker a few overs later. And he let those bloody Turban lovers know it.

Symmo even came on at the end and claimed a couple, and within 40 overs, the match finished in similar fashion to the 1999 final - in the hands of Boofer. He hit the winning runs back then, he took the final catch on Sunday.

The celebrations were loud and long. We caught a few of the players afterwards before they headed off to their private function (so, alas, no drunken tales to tell... sorry).

We headed to the Wanderers Inn which was packed full of around 500 Aussies. There was no music there so we made our own. Each Aussies took his turn getting up to sing any Aussie song they fancied, and the rest of us would join in.

Merv Hughes showed his face, Magnum in hand. He spoke some drunken words, sang a song which about 5 people knew, then was gone.

Slowly, we all got more and more inebriated and dispersed, mostly to Montecasino where the celebrations continued. Most of us don't know how we got home, but we all woke up in a fragile state, realising that our dream tour was over.

It has been an amazing 43 days.

Back then, before the Pakistan game, none of us knew each other. Now, after the fact, we've all made friends for life.

The only down point is that I didn't get to say goodbye to most of them. It was just a drunken, early morning hug.

So all you Fanatics, Goose Rooters and fellow Aussie supporters that I met along the way, send an email and we'll do it all again sometime soon. If you're based in London and are keen for a reunion in about a month or so, send one along.

And for all those that has been following the tournament through this web site and on tv, I can't recommend a Fanatics tour enough.

This was my first, but it won't be my last. I'm gutted that I'm not going to the Davis Cup or West Indies, but I'll be doing the French Open and any other tour that I can possibly afford. Thanks for the memories Woz, Disco, Col, Pete and all the other Fanatics. It's been the time of my life. See you all again soon.

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