The shambles at the end of the final typified what had gone on before © Getty Images

Tim de Lisle

For us fans, cricket is such a consuming passion that the end of a major series or tournament usually brings a feeling of emptiness. Not this time. The end of the World Cup has come as a relief. As an event, it committed the crime that sports administrators are apt to accuse players of: it brought the game into disrepute.

A World Cup is a showcase, and at different times over the past seven weeks, international cricket has been shown looking stupid, grasping, callous and boring. Finally, in the darkness of Bridgetown on Saturday night, it looked ridiculous. The man in charge of running the show, the man picked out to referee the most prestigious match, didn't know the rules.

Recently, the ICC top brass made a move to get match referees re-named. The new job title they had in mind was "chief executive". On Saturday, Jeff Crowe didn't have a clue what was going on, listened to the wrong person, failed to apply common sense, and made a big mess of a simple decision. Yes, "chief executive" will do nicely.

The business with the bad light was a new kind of blooper, and we shouldn't make too much of it. It should prove to be a one-off, and it may even turn out to have done the game a perverse favour. It made sure that there was no last-minute redemption, no danger of the mishaps being wiped from the folk memory by the brilliance of Adam Gilchrist's hitting. It's tough on Gilchrist, but perhaps better for the game that the last taste in the mouth was a sour one. Something may even be done about it.

The more worrying blunders in this World Cup were the ones that had been committed before. Which, when you think about it, was most of them.

Remember the failings of the 2003 World Cup? It went on far too long. It had a surfeit of minnows. It had two group stages, with points carried over from one to the other, which made the second of them more complicated and less dramatic than it need have been. It was blighted by petty regulations caused by kowtowing to sponsors. It suffered from a lack of atmosphere at many of the games. It didn't feel as special as it should have, as all the major teams had gathered for the Champions Trophy five months earlier. And it was overshadowed by politics, because the South African government decided to stage some games in Zimbabwe, which, then as now, was being run as a vicious tyranny.

Malcolm Speed laps up the carnival atmosphere © Getty Images

This time, there was nothing like Zimbabwe, if you ignored the fact that they were again allowed to compete. Politics didn't overshadow the tournament. That role fell to the death of Bob Woolmer, for which, as far as we know, nobody but an unknown murderer can be blamed. But the rest of that catalogue of failings recurred. The ICC failed to learn from history, so they were doomed to repeat it.

They deserve credit for being prepared to hold the World Cup in the West Indies, which was a bold choice. But that boldness was not carried through. They were prepared to let the tournament be held in the Caribbean, but not - until they came under fire from the media - to let it have a strong Caribbean flavour. They imposed their own mentality: that of the fusspot, the control freak, the dead hand of the western corporate world. It was tantamount to colonialism, in an age that should know better. And it was wrong for sport, which is a different beast from business.

Like most World Cups, this one has been a watershed. It has marked the end of an era for most of the leading international coaches, some of the captains, and at least two great players - Glenn McGrath and Brian Lara. You could argue that it is now bigger as a watershed than it is as an event.

The game is losing many good people, and not losing some less good ones. The hope that they will consider their positions is probably a forlorn one. But they absolutely must rethink their approach.

It was hardly Australia's fault they reached such heights that no team came within touching distance © AFP

Sambit Bal

It was entirely appropriate that a sorry tournament should have a sorry end, though it must be said that the embarrassment in the final moments far exceeded anything that preceded it. That the magnificent Australians were reduced to pleading for some positive coverage for themselves was a reflection of the pathetic depths this tournament had slumped to. But even they knew it was futile: even their towering, majestic and wholesome performance could not rise above the shambles.

In a sense they contributed, though in an entirely different and positive way, to the hollowness of this World Cup. But it was hardly their fault they reached such heights that no team came within touching distance. They dominated the tournament like no team has ever done in the history of cricket, and had it not been for the disgraceful finish, they would even have been entitled to two victory celebrations. They were almost twice as good as their opponents.

Sri Lanka, their closest competitors in the one-day arena, kept apace with them for about 20 overs in their first-round match, and for a few overs today, Kumar Sangakkara, and to a lesser extent, Sanath Jayasuriya were able to match them with their skills. But over the whole length of the tournament, they were overwhelmingly awesome. It could have been hardly imaginable that they could better their performance of 2003, when they didn't lose a game. But they have, and in doing so, they have set new limits for execution of cricket skills.

The organisers have done exactly the same. It was thought nothing could get worse than the World Cup in South Africa, which felt interminable, tiresome and stifling. The ICC has succeeded in dragging the level even lower. They have brought the World Cup to the most joyous and spontaneous part of the cricket world and squeezed every ounce of enjoyment out of it. Since they measure success in terms of cash, it has been bragged that the tournament has broken records in cash receipts, but in all other ways, it has been an abysmal failure.

Such has been the level of alienation among the passionate fans here that many locals have come to view the ICC's organisation of the tournament as occupation of their land. Cricket lover after cricket lover has lamented the pricing and the fact that "they have taken the party, the culture out of our stands".

It can be argued the tournament has been conducted in an efficient manner. The grounds have been spruced up, the players have been looked after well, and from a media point of view the facilities have been excellent. But they have failed to grasp the priorities. Perfection has been achieved in the most trivial things. Not a can of Coke has entered the stadiums, fans have been asked to turn their garments carrying offending logos inside out or face eviction, but they failed to feel the pulse of the cricket fan, a far more significant "stakeholder" in cricket than the sponsors.

Herschelle Gibbs' six sixes in an over were a highlight for South Africa, but they couldn't make it to the final © AFP

Percy Sonn and Malcolm Speed, the top-level ICC officials, were booed at the presentation ceremony. The contrast couldn't have been sharper because the same crowd gave a thumping ovation to Garry Sobers and Everton Weekes moments later. When hosts are booed at their own party, you know how much it has soured. Administrators who feel no kinship for sport will never find affection from its supporters. Entirely fittingly, it was Sonn who presented the trophy to the winner, for it was his prerogative as the president of the ICC. Sobers is merely the greatest cricketer that ever lived.

Of course, the players were not blameless. Many teams played soulless, spiritless cricket. And it didn't help that India and Pakistan, two of the tournament's biggest draws, combusted before the party began. Ironically, Bangladesh and Ireland, the teams that provided the most exciting days in the first round, also doomed the Super Eights to a series of meaningless matches.

But they could hardly be faulted when teams worthier than them featured in equal mismatches. England were an embarrassment before South Africa, who capitulated even more abysmally before Australia. West Indies lost horribly to South Africa and New Zealand even more horribly to Sri Lanka. Matches went from bad to worse at such pace that in the end no expectations remained. It was a tournament in which journalists spent more time focusing on the poor performances than celebrating stirring ones.

Good moments were scarce. There was Tamin Iqbal's sensational charge against India, Boyd Rankin's energetic bowling against Pakistan, Herschelle Gibbs' six sixes, Muttiah Muralitharan's magical spell against India, Lasith Malinga's sensational four-in-four, AB de Villier's turbo-charged hitting on one leg against West Indies, Mahela Jayawardene's sublime hundred against New Zealand in the semi-final, and ultimately, Adam Gilchrist's demolition of Sri Lanka in the final. Too few for a tournament lasting 46 days. One thing that might emerge from this is a shorter event, but it may be for the wrong reasons. Sponsors and television channels can't afford to lose India early. So expect the format to be tweaked to ensure India's presence at the business end.

In the end, it will be a tournament that will be remembered for the bad, ugly and terrible. A horrible death, under-performances, resignations, sackings, and retirements kept us busy. The legacy of this vast and meaningless World Cup will be despair and emptiness. It couldn't have ended sooner.

Ricky Ponting and Mahela Jayawardene speak to the umpires about the chaotic scenes at the end of the final © Getty Images

Andrew Miller

How many ICC officials does it take to change a lightbulb? At least a committee of five, none of whom will have read the instruction manual, but each of whom will have a louder and more forthright opinion than the other about how best to do it. If that reads like the start of a bad joke, then it is nothing compared to its ending. Somehow a team of four of the most experienced officials in the game, plus a former Test captain in Jeff Crowe, managed to grab hold of the most luminous event in the world cricket calendar, and fumble so hopelessly that they ended up fusing the entire building.

Time is a healer, and come daybreak (when lightbulbs are no longer needed), those who witnessed the conclusion to the 2007 World Cup final may be able to compartmentalise the incompetence and remember instead the stunning totality of both Adam Gilchrist's innings and Australia's surging campaign. But there are only so many embarrassments that a game and those who love it can forgive, and this latest cock-up could not have come at a worse time for the world sport.

The world of cricket is drowning in over-zealous officialdom. That has been a theme of this entire Caribbean experience, with the joie de vivre of the region gagged and bound in mountains of ICC-sanctioned red tape. The World Cup final, a match-up between the two best sides in the tournament, was an opportunity for last-minute redemption. Nobody, unfortunately, told the loudmouth officials who think that they (and not the players) are the star attraction, and instead the occasion became cause for further ridicule.

Ricky Ponting simply could not believe what he was hearing when umpire Aleem Dar strode up to him and his cavorting team-mates, after play had been suspended at the end of the 33rd over of Sri Lanka's run-chase, and tapped the huddle on the collective shoulder. "I thought he was having a joke to stop our celebrations," he said, having heard Dar declare - erroneously as it turned out - that the game still had three overs to go. "We stopped and looked at him and I said, 'Look mate, we've played the 20 overs, we've finished the game.'"

There once was a time when the agreement of two on-field captains would have been quite sufficient to allow common sense to prevail in a game of cricket. Mahela Jayawardene, Ponting's opposite number, also believed that the game was up but, as a gesture of goodwill, he agreed to play pat-ball with Australia's spinners in near-darkness, just so as to avoid having to return the following morning. "Before we went back out to the middle, I tried to explain to the third umpire, but he had already made his decision," said Jayawardene, accurately spelling out the provisions of the Duckworth-Lewis method, which requires the chasing team to have batted 20 overs before a result can be declared.

That third umpire, incidentally, was Rudi Koertzen, onto whom the buck was subtly but unequivocally passed by Crowe. "He's the one who has the rule-book and makes the calculations and allowances, and was talking about tomorrow. But it's not Rudi's mistake, it was a collective mistake. The fact that Rudi suggested it doesn't mean the others couldn't have overruled him."

	Sri Lanka had to contend with rain and bad light interruptions © Getty Images

How do you over-rule an over-bearing umpire, however? This is the third high-profile occasion in the last two years when the thrill of a cricketing contest has been secondary to the demands of the rule-book. The last two occasions both occurred at The Oval in London - in 2006 when Darrell Hair's ego ran amok amid the ball-tampering fiasco, and in 2005, when the greatest Ashes series in modern times ended with a similarly daft delay for bad light and, ultimately, the symbolic (but excessively showy) removal of the bails by Billy Bowden and, you guessed it, Koertzen.

"Sometimes you get a stronger voice which says 'I know the rules - this is how it works'," added Crowe, giving a candid insight into the sort of high-level squabbling that goes on behind closed doors in the umpire's room. "Then you get a bit of confusion in the group itself, and no-one wants to overrule the other. But the match referee should have known and said 'that's not right - the game should be completed now'."

But the match referee did not know, and to those who have watched them in action over the past few years will not be remotely surprised. Mike Procter was the man who singularly failed to calm the chaos during the Darrell Hair crisis last year, as the stand-off escalated to boardroom level almost before anyone had worked out what had happened. This time Crowe, despite being the manager of the loftily titled "Playing Control Team", proved himself to be equally useless. Asked if this was a resignation issue, he replied: "I'll have to ask my superiors". Does the buck ever stop anywhere in the ICC's maze of power?

The sad truth is that the increasing corporatisation of the game has robbed it of spontaneity at every level, so much so that even the game's oldest foe, the weather, is no longer capable of making an appearance without tying the administrators in knots. After a three-hour delay in the morning, the hustle to ensure that the contest was both completed in one day and was of a length that befitted such a showpiece occasion meant that too many overs were shoehorned into too short a timespan.

But the most idiotic utterance of the day came from Crowe, as he tried to explain the difference between a rain-delay and a bad-light delay. "When light is used in the calculations of a day's play, it doesn't necessarily mean it is the end of a day's play," he declared, a statement that was Canute-esque in its defiance of the laws of nature. Every cricketer on the planet, from the kids on the Mumbai maidans to the captains in the World Cup final, knows that when it is too dark to see, it is too late to hope that the moon might suddenly provide some extra wattage.

How many ICC officials does it take to change a lightbulb? Don't ask. The answer's not actually very funny.

Leading man: Ramnaresh Sarwan's first task as captain should be to pick the squad for the tour of England © Getty Images

Vaneisa Baksh

The unsurprising news that Ramnaresh Sarwan will captain West Indies and lead the team to England has come out of a West Indies Cricket Board (WICB) meeting. If all goes as the WICB stated, Sarwan's first task will be to join the selectors on Tuesday to pick the team. It may be his easiest duty as the once coveted role has become so embroiled in intrigue and muck that its holder is now seen as a suicide cricketer.

The tour to England may seem to be on tenuous grounds given the fact that contract negotiations between the WICB and the West Indies Players' Association (WIPA) have again been placed in the hands of an arbitration panel, led by the chief justice of Barbados, Sir David Simmons. But for jaded onlookers, the situation is such a familiar one with such a familiar outcome that nobody seriously doubts the tour will be scrapped. Uncertainty prevails, however, about whether there will be a new coach or even a physical trainer in that time.

A major problem within the team has been its internal relations, its indiscipline and its unwillingness to train and maintain fitness programmes. Granted, it is not an easy problem to uproot, but it requires an intervention that explicitly communicates intent.

When Brian Lara announced his retirement, two names were immediately tossed out as his successor: Sarwan and Daren Ganga. Both have led their national teams with success, both are good cricketers, though one has a better record, and both have completely different approaches to the game.

Ganga's leadership has been about instilling discipline and nurturing a good work ethic. Sarwan considers himself a gambler who is willing to take risks. But Sarwan has become a senior member of this team of skylarkers, has been obviously part of the embedded culture, and despite his best intentions, cannot impose a new and unwelcome ethic. He may have the most attractive playing record at this stage, but Lara's was more impressive and that didn't do the trick.

In selecting the squad for the World Cup, the WICB omitted Ganga, despite his recent good form, and it struck me then as it does now. What a complete and utter rejection it was of all the qualities of leadership that Ganga represented. It was probably just as well that they left him out, because he might just have been seen as a party pooper.

Batsmen and rivals: Sarwan beat Daren Ganga in the race to replace Brian Lara © AFP

Ganga, at 28, brings a decidedly more mature approach than Sarwan, who will turn 27 in June. Not that age is the decider, but their temperaments and experiences have been starkly different. Ganga has been bumped in and out of the West Indies team, sometimes inexplicably, but he has been stoic and resilient and has always tried to work out his problems, though it has affected his confidence.

Sarwan has breezed through his career based on his obvious talent. When he shines, he is dazzling, but he is belligerent towards criticism and stubbornly refuses to amend flaws in his technique. He is supercharged with confidence, which can be a good thing, and he will probably be a forthright captain (though that might be a contractual no-no).

In 2002, I interviewed him and one of the elements of the conversation that has returned to me several times during the intervening years was that he repeatedly insisted that nothing had changed in him since he was 15 or 16. "I've been the same way," he said, more than once, and watching him since I could see the truth of the statement.

I also asked him what he thought were the qualities of a good captain. His response was immediate, suggesting he'd already worked it out. "One, he should know how to speak," he said. "He should be cool in situations, he should know when to make a decision, and he must be a gambler. He should be a gambler. And he must have cricket knowledge as well."

They were all qualities he felt he had then, and if now, under these oppressive and complex circumstances he thinks he is up for the challenge, one hopes that he understands it takes other things as well.

Osman Samiuddin looks at the coaching clearout which has followed the World Cup and examines the prospects for the old, the new and the unknown

Greg Chappell: the first coach to stand down after India's exit © Getty Images

India

Inbox: The new man will have to gel with skipper Rahul Dravid, yet take the other players who had distanced themselves from captain and coach along as well. A number of senior stars will near a natural end under the new coach and handling that will require the touch of a diplomat. Dealing with strong-minded underperformers like Virender Sehwag and Harbhajan Singh will not be easy either. The most difficult assignment it may not be (see across the border, or below) but none brings greater pressure.

Contenders: That Dav Whatmore is keen on the job is no secret. He is also the likeliest contender and subcontinent experience is a handy advantage. A John Wright return won't be ruled out until he says no: have feelers been sent out? Locals such as Mohinder Amarnath, Sandeep Patil and even Sunil Gavaskar will also be in the running.

Pakistan

Inbox: The new coach has a new young captain to work with and much on his plate: senior players will need soothing, the issue of religion will have to be tread around delicately and WADA may still have something to say about two key players. Factor in the general madness of Pakistan cricket and it is the most difficult, and least desirable, job in world cricket at the moment.

Contenders: John Wright was contacted last year but nothing concrete emerged from it. Though he hasn't ruled out a coaching job, sources close to Wright told Cricinfo that no offer had been made. Tim Boon, of Leicestershire, has also been mentioned but if the PCB go local, then Aaqib Javed is first choice. Wasim Akram, about to help out local fast bowlers in Lahore, is the wildest wildcard.

Bangladesh

Inbox: The new man walks into one of the more exciting jobs. Underpinned by an Australian blueprint for success, Bangladesh cricket is currently abuzz, an academy delivering talent proper to the national team in a country in which the game's popularity is growing still.

Contenders: Few official noises have been made as Whatmore will stay till the India series in May to give the board time to find a replacement. Somewhere, the name of Allan Donald has cropped up though. And even, believe it or not, Nasser Hussain.

Sri Lanka:

Inbox: Walking into the most exciting job in world cricket. There is a lovely balance between the old legs and new ones, the captain himself is beautifully poised in between and the team appears on the verge of big things. The board, though, is as crazy as they come in the subcontinent.

Contenders: Moody's departure is not inked in just yet, but a move to Western Australia, according to some, is all but settled. And he was a frontrunner for India two years ago and Australia recently.

West Indies

Inbox: Given that King wasn't a popular choice among locals, a foreign appointment would have that to deal with that resentment first. There is also the small matter of answering the toughest question in cricket: How on earth do you reverse Caribbean cricketing fortunes? A legend light and a new captain to work with may or may not help.

Contenders: Likely to be a local this time round and Roger Harper, currently with Kenya, might be lured away by the lustre of a big job at home.

New men at the helm

Australia

Inbox: Tim Nielsen is a system pick through and through, safe and credible. More skills-based and hands-on than his predecessor, but Buchanan remains a mentor. Has played more first-class cricket too, which will probably earn him some more respect.

Prospects: After the West Indies, this must be the toughest question: How does one of the greatest teams of all time get better? He will have to deal quickly with the retirements of a number of geniuses, though as the World Cup has revealed, they appear to have a replacement ready in every position.

Peter Moores: another safe, system pick, © Getty Images

England

Inbox: Peter Moores's was a swift appointment, though David Morgan calling it an 'emergency' choice seems plain rude. Another safe, system pick, though in nearly all of his previous appointments and incarnations, he has produced results.

Prospects: Following on from arguably the best coach England has ever had is every bit as difficult as it sounds. He has some work on his hands, with an ODI overhaul and a major Test rekindling for starters. And helping Steve Harmison and Marcus Trescothick get their groove back might not be a bad idea either.

Netherlands

Inbox: Paul-Jan Bakker's appointment carries on that trend, as Netherlands cannot afford to pay a higher-profile coach. The team is in transition and the next two years will show which way they are going.

Prospects: Like all Associates, Netherlands are battling with being amateurs in a professional world. A small player base and finite commercial opportunities means that Bakker will do well to tread water.

Steady as she goes

Mickey Arthur: could end 2007 as the senior coach in world cricket © Getty Images

New Zealand

South Africa

Zimbabwe

Kenya

Glenn McGrath collected 3 for 14 in his opening spell and dropped South Africa to 27 for 5 © Getty Images

Rahul Bhattacharya

St Lucia is a delightful island of Caribbean vibes. At night the liming strip in Rodney Bay has come alive for comers from all over the world. Beres Hammond, Sean Paul and David Rudder have performed. Shaggy and Maxi Priest will tonight. But Lucians don't much talk about cricket - or listen to it, as Tuesday's Jamaica semi-final did not come over the radio. There has never been a Test cricketer out of here and the few locals who were at Beausejour will not have been bowled over by what they saw.

This was a less than rousing affair. The trouble with Australian professionalism is that it has become such a cliché that even watching it at its calibrated best can be numbing. Glory be flaws.

Yet, with a little filter of nostalgia even these hours of unremitting lopsided excellence are able to take on some warmth. To watch the chuntering maestro Glenn McGrath at work was to see an entire era of wicket-to-wicket back-of-length menace flash before the eyes, the eternal hypnotic torture of it. We will get to see it once more on Saturday. Once more only.

Few cricketers have been at once so level as McGrath and yet able to find another one. In an over, in a spell, in a day, in a series, in a season, he seems always to be operating at his peak. Still he is continually rising to occasions. Remember his ball to Sachin at the '99 World Cup? The one to Lara?

Admittedly Ashwell Prince played the stroke of a paralysed man and Jacques Kallis' foolishness brought the best out of a fine yorker. The touch of the master was in the Mark Boucher dismissal. It was the classic McGrath incision, Halal if you will. Off stump and just outside, a bit of wobble and bounce, caught first slip. Equally McGrathian was the impact: big semi-final, opening spell, six overs, 3 for 14, South Africa 27 for 5. The man is two months after 37. He looks it too. Australians were asking for him to be put to pasture before the World Cup. There you go.

"The fact that I'm going to retire is probably one of the reasons I'm bowling so well," he said, "because I'm just going out there, trying to enjoy it, make the most of it, make the most of every game I play. There's no pressure, no fear, no anything.

"I've probably bowled a little differently this tournament. Probably bowled a little more aggressively than I have done in the past. That's the reason I've got a few more wickets, I've probably gone for a few more runs than I normally do. It's worked out with 25 wickets; Tait has 23 wickets, Brad Hogg has 20 and Bracks [Nathan Bracken] is doing well too. The fact that we've bowled every team out is a huge lift for us, bar Bangladesh who we only got 20 overs with."

Those last two sentences draw out an essence of the McGrath personality. To observe him at a press conference is to appreciate that his renowned trick of knowing each one of his dismissals cannot be idle exaggeration.

Mark Boucher's dismissal was classic McGrath: off stump and just outside, a bit of wobble and bounce, caught first slip © Getty Images

There was something like the Dustin Hoffman character in Rain Man about the scene at the dais. Every time Ponting needed a figure, he'd look to McGrath, who would oblige.
Sometimes he did not need to ask. When Ponting said Australia had done well to restrict Sri Lanka to 226 in 50 overs the other day, McGrath intervened to say that they had in fact bowled them out (they had, in 49.4 overs). When Ponting mentioned Shaun Tait had done very well to get 22 wickets in the tournament, McGrath interrupted to say that it was in fact 23. When a journalist asked him about his four Man-of-the-Match awards in the tournament, he quipped: "Hopefully if it's four it will mean we've won the final. I've only really got three."

"They talk about batsmen batting in partnerships," McGrath said, "I think it's even more so with bowlers. With Nathan Bracken and Shaun Tait bowling the way they are, Punter asks me to come on generally with one or two wickets down. Bracks always keeps it tight, puts batsmen under pressure, and the way Taity's been bowling they just want to get down to the other end and face me!

"We're all different bowlers but complement each other. You've got an old bloke running in and hitting the deck top of off, Bracks swinging it up front and then he's back with old ball at the end, Taity who can come in and just blast guys out, and Hoggy has had an exceptional tour, he played a big part in 2003 and is again now. And you've got guys like Stuart Clark and Mitchell Johnson dying to get out for a game, and Brett Lee is at home."

There was pride in the words of the oldie. With the departure of McGrath, shortly after Shane Warne, an epoch in cricket will have been completed. Expertly, precisely, and more humorously than given credit, the job has been done. McGrath leaves Australian cricket in a better shape than he found it in and Australia, as ever, are ready to make the most of it.

by Andrew Miller

Sri Lanka failed to build on the excellent recovery of Mahela Jayawardene and Chamara Silva © AFP

Only an ambush will be able to stop Australia. That's the consensus after a bizarre and deliberately staged mismatch between the team most tipped to win the World Cup and their nearest - yet still distant - challenger. After Stephen Fleming last week managed the pace of New Zealand's defeat against Sri Lanka in a bid to enhance their longevity in the competition, this time it was the Sri Lankans who indulged in a bit of by-play. Knock-out time is nearing, but the pretenders to Australia's title are still wheeling around the favourite, ducking and bobbing and striving for the merest hint of an opening.

Sri Lanka's captain, Mahela Jayawardene, tried to deny that his key bowlers, Muttiah Muralitharan and Chaminda Vaas, (and the injured Lasith Malinga) had been rested for tactical reasons, but nobody truly believed his protestations. When you set a trap for a beast as big, powerful and terrifying as the Australians, timing is everything. To have sprung a major surprise in a game as meaningless as this encounter had become would have been a criminal waste of their energies.

Forget all the talk of victories building momentum and other such clichéd interpretations. Ricky Ponting's Australians are so crushingly focused that a defeat would have been like a ricochet off a rhino's hide. Australia would have stored up the indignity, redirected their fury, and doubtless entered the semi-finals even more determined to crush all resistance. One look at Ponting's thousand-yard stare tells you that much.

"To tell you the truth it doesn't worry me one little bit," he said, having long since dispensed with the platitudes in press conferences. "They obviously had some you-beaut plan going into the game, to rest a couple of the best players, but that's fine with us. We'll take a comprehensive win against Sri Lanka this close to the finals.

"I don't know their reasons and I don't care. It's out of our control. We put our best team on the park to win the game and we clearly finished on top which is great. If they want to make it through and win the World Cup they are more than likely going to have to play us again at some stage. They've got to bounce back from what we've done to them, but that's for them to worry about, not us."

Sri Lanka will face all sorts of accusations in the coming days of bringing the game into disrepute and of devaluing the World Cup with their tactics. But if the shielding of their star bowlers pays any sort of dividends come the business end of the competition, then hindsight will not only forgive them but thank them as well. Australia, for the eighth match running, learned little of relevance about their opponents, and once again, their former world No. 1 batsman, Michael Hussey, was left to fester in the pavilion. His event has stalled at a mere 50 runs from 72 balls faced.

They managed to get our score pretty easily and our bowlers didn't look that penetrative, but I don't think they bowled particularly well either Mahela Jayawardene

"It must have been a fairly frustrating tournament for him," Ponting said in a statement that contained the only glimmer of compassion he was willing to emit all day. "The top-order guys have done the job, but there is going to be a time in this tournament when Andrew Symonds, Hussey and maybe Brad Hodge are going to have to do some very important batting for us." Sri Lanka are determined that that moment should come in the final in 12 days.

For that to happen, however, they will need to raise their game to levels higher than their second-string managed, and it was a serious concern for Jayawardene that his batsmen folded quite as readily as they did on a fairly blameless pitch. Ponting would have batted first had he won the toss, and so for Sri Lanka to be all out for 226, with a collapse of 5 for 17 undermining their recovery from early setbacks, was not the message that Jayawardene had hoped to send out.

"We know we can compete but we are disappointed with the way we played today," Jayawardene said. "We made a lot of mistakes and when you do that against a quality side they will definitely punish you. Yes, they managed to get our score pretty easily and our bowlers didn't look that penetrative, but I don't think they bowled particularly well either, given the conditions."

A total of 250 might have turned this into a contest, but Nathan Bracken pulled Sri Lanka's strings in an exemplary four-wicket stint, and Shaun Tait bounced back from a scattergun first spell to take two crucial wickets with his out-and-out hostility. "Every game we've tried to make a bit of a statement and we've done it again," Ponting said. "The only team we haven't bowled out is Bangladesh and that was over 22 overs."

Time to retire for Sachin Tendulkar? Ian Chappell thinks so © Getty Images

Ian Chappell

In the fallout from India's early demise at the World Cup one of the major decisions will concern the future of Sachin Tendulkar.

Before anybody else makes a decision on what will happen to Tendulkar the player himself has to have a good long look in the mirror and decide what he's trying to achieve in the game. At the moment he looks like a player trying to eke out a career; build on a glittering array of statistics. If he really is playing for that reason and not to help win as many matches as he can for India then he is wasting his time and should retire immediately.

When you think that for a decade Brian Lara and Tendulkar went head to head in a wonderful battle of stroke play to establish who was the best batsman in the world, they are now worlds apart in effectiveness.

Lara's quick-footed tip toe through a terrific innings against a good Australian bowling attack when the rest of the West Indies top order succumbed easily was in direct contrast to Tendulkar's stumbling effort in the crucial Sri Lanka match. The amazing thing about Lara's brilliant career is the fact that he hasn't changed his style at all over seventeen years. This is a credit to his technique and mental strength, as the aging process generally makes a player more progressively conservative.

Tendulkar hasn't worn as well; his last three or four years have been a shadow of his former self. His double century at the SCG in January 2004 was a classic case of a great player really struggling. He came to the crease out of form and despite amassing all those runs and batting for in excess of ten hours he was no closer to recapturing his best touch than he was when he started out. It was a tribute to his determination but it was a sad sight to see; there are enough average players around that you don't won't to see a class one reduced to that level.

Tendulkar hasn't been as lucky as Lara; the Indian batsman has suffered a lot of injuries in this period where his play has deteriorated and there is nothing that melts your mental approach quicker than physical handicaps. Lara has been relatively free from injury and he certainly doesn't have the weight of numbers riding on his shoulders that Tendulkar does.

However, the population of the Caribbean might be small but they are extremely demanding. Despite all the fuss and the odd controversy that has surrounded Lara's career he has remained himself; this is my game and that is how I play. For whatever reason Tendulkar hasn't been able to maintain his extremely high standards for the last few years and unless he can find a way to recapture this mental approach he's not doing his team or himself any favours.

If Tendulkar had found an honest mirror three years ago and asked the question; "Mirror, mirror on the wall who is the best batsman of all?" It would've answered; "Brian Charles Lara." If he asked that same mirror right now; "Mirror, mirror on the wall should I retire?" The answer would be; "Yes."

	'Sri Lanka's 11 men came in with a plan an executed it efficiently. They had already made it to the Super 8's but, going by their attitude one would have thought they were on the brink of elimination' © AFP

Siddhartha Vaidyanathan

The magnitude of this match, it was said, could have rivalled a World Cup final. The tournament could ill afford India, cricket's cash cow, to crash out so early. Some reckoned there was so much at stake that India, which contributes close to two thirds of the game's revenues, would remain in the competition, even if it involved arm-twisting behind the scenes.

Where these arguments come apart is that they go against the unique power of sport, in embracing passion and fervour, to transcend such petty issues as money power. The advertisement hoardings at the Queen's Park Oval, or for that matter any ground in the world, may have endorsed Indian brands but it was always the effort of the 11 men that would ultimately count. Sri Lanka's 11 men came in with a plan and, crucially, executed it efficiently. They had already made it to the Super 8's but, going by their attitude, energy and desire, one would have thought they were on the brink of elimination.

India weren't outclassed for two-thirds of the match, as they were on this day four years ago when Ricky Ponting trampled them with sheer class in what was a World Cup final. For a clear understanding of the rhythm of this match, one will have to probably rewind a little earlier to the never-to-be-forgotten India-Pakistan clash at
Centurion. The first innings was played out on an elastic band and every time one team nudged ahead, the other came back to restore parity. For a steady hundred from Saeed Anwar, you had plucky half-centuries from Upul Tharanga and Chamara Silva; for Younis Khan's urgent 32, you had a busy 38 from Tillakaratne Dilshan; for Pakistan's 273, you had Sri Lanka's 254.

There the similarities end. Such games need an enforcer, someone who can overcome the strong forces of tension, impose himself on the big stage and steer the match in one direction. At Centurion, that man was Sachin Tendulkar; on Friday, it was Muttiah Muralitharan. It's one of the hardest roles to play, one that requires a touch of genius, but it's for that reason alone that these players are special. Today Tendulkar couldn't play that role - one can argue that he received a very good ball but the fact is he couldn't. Sourav Ganguly couldn't, Rahul Dravid couldn't. They weren't allowed to.

Sri Lanka's recent record against India is nothing short of woeful (winning just two of the last ten completed games) but on the day it mattered, they were on the ball. Chaminda Vaas taunted - his reflex caught-and-bowled off Robin Uthappa was exactly the early inspiration that Sri Lanka needed - before Dilhara Fernando, a late replacement, and Lasith Malinga hustled. Sri Lanka possess the most varied attack in the tournament - the hard graft from Vaas and Sanath Jayasuriya combining explosively with the exotic offerings from Malinga and Murali. India were
bogged down by Vaas and pegged back by Fernando before Murali arrived, went round the wicket, unveiled offspinners, topspinners and doosras, made them spin at vicious angles, and took centrestage.

For Dravid, a nightmare was played out in front of him. Yuvraj Singh's run-out encapsulated India's panicky state and Mahendra Singh Dhoni's attempted slash simply left him pale-faced. Sehwag's dismissal was probably the most crucial - he was batting more confidently than he's done in recent memory and should have made the start count - but he too was mired by the Murali menace.

Dravid watched in shock as partners came and left before deciding, with the run-rate soaring, to go for broke. The four successive fours he crashed off Malinga stemmed from frustration, anger and hopelessness. He'd taken over a side and harboured hopes of turning them into hard-as-nails professionals; he'd ended with a most ignominious World Cup elimination.

Several questions need to be asked, including serious ones of Dravid and coach Greg Chappell, but the most galling aspect is that there doesn't seem to be any long-term vision, any honest appraisals. Indian cricket needs a massive overhaul (if a first-round exit doesn't instigate it,
nothing will) but the fact that it's unlikely to happen is even more disturbing. It's not the Indian board's motto yet, but as someone once famously said, "Money can't buy happiness but it can give you the kind of misery with which you can live comfortably."

by Sambit Bal

'If a game starts taking lives, there is something sickeningly wrong with it' © Getty Images

We don't yet know for sure why or how Bob Woolmer died. We shouldn't rush to judgment; it is still possible that it was an accident. It is equally possible he was murdered. And, while conspiracy theorists are working overtime on the motives, it is also quite possible that we will never know the full truth.

And in the event of this not being an accident, it is quite likely that Woolmer was a victim of cricket's seamier side. Either it was the stress, induced by the most obscene and blind expectations of cricket fans who brook no failure, or he was killed by people who felt let down or had something to fear.

Either way, it should serve as a wake-up call to those who run cricket, and those who profess passion for it. If a game starts taking lives, there is something sickeningly wrong with it. But this is not really about Woolmer. We didn't need someone to die to awaken us to a problem. The signs have always been there, it's just that most of us have found it expedient to ignore them. Commodification has been chipping away at the soul of cricket for years, and now the game is the danger of losing its head.

Take the current predicament of this World Cup as an example. The major stake-holders in the tournament - the television channels and major sponsors - risk losing millions, either in cash or kind, if India go out in the first round. They are not the number one team in the world by a mile. Not even number two. They are ranked sixth in the ICC team ratings and, while that might not always be the best indicator of a team's worth, they have not won a competition of note outside the subcontinent since 1985. Yet the fate of the World Cup rides on them. It's a disaster waiting to happen.

Cricket has acquired a dangerous obsession with money, to the extent where it is not a question of a game needing the money to survive or grow but making as much as possible at any cost.

The reason for this is not hard to comprehend. Cricket has acquired a dangerous obsession with money, to the extent where it is not a question of a game needing the money to survive or grow but making as much as possible at any cost. Players have been ground to dust and cricket, the one-day variety in particular, has been divested of any meaning and consequence. It would seem that the administrators have learnt very little from the match-fixing scandal, which was as much a result of greed as of a surfeit of matches that meant little to the players.

Meanwhile, the Indian administrators have managed to market a massive captive television audience to acquire financial muscle that relies little on the capabilities of the national team. As a result the cricket economy has gone ahead of the game, which is struggling to catch up.

It's an economy that relies more on projection and hype than reality. SetMax, the entertainment channel owned by Sony, paid nearly 40 % of the total cost of the ICC rights in the hope of recouping it from advertisers. Luckily for them, India made it to the final of the last World Cup and one Champions Trophy. But that was clearly not enough and Sony didn't even bother to bid for the next set of rights, which have been won by ESPN-Star for US $1.1 billion.

ESPN-Star is a joint venture between Disney and NewsCorp, but there is little doubt which television audience they are banking on. It is an unhealthy dependence. So much should never depend on the performance of one team. Apart from putting unfair pressure on the players, it leaves the cricket economy dangerously imbalanced and prone to huge risks.

The passion of the fans is the biggest strength of cricket in the sub-continent - but it is also its weakness, particularly in case of India and Pakistan. Sri Lankan fans are far more stoic about their team's fortunes and far more accepting of failure, whereas in Bangladesh they are grateful for every little or big victory, be that of the team or individual. But in India and Pakistan, the passion borders on frenzy.

As an Indian, I would like India to win the World Cup. But it might not be such a bad thing for cricket if they were to be knocked out in the first round

In India it is brazenly and cynically fueled by an increasingly sensationalist and populist mass media, which treats cricket as one of the biggest baits to attract advertisers. Instead of providing perspective and being the voice of reason, the media feeds the frenzy and cashes in on it. Stars are built up and decimated. Exaggerated glorification is matched by proportionate vilification. So cricketers are either to be worshipped or denigrated. There isn't a middle ground, a measure of reality, or a sense of proportion.

The reality is that India reaching the World Cup final would be an overachievement. Australia and South Africa possess superior teams, New Zealand have more balance and depth and Sri Lanka are the most improved team in world cricket. India have proven, but ageing, batsmen, a bowling attack that's susceptible to pressure and poor fielders. To be a fan is to dream. But to many Indian fans the dream is the reality.

Nationalism is the bedrock of cricket. But you can't call yourself a true fan if the sight of 17-year old Tamim Iqbal charging down pitch to belt Indian quick bowlers brought you no thrill. Yes, India played below themselves, but every cricket match has a winner. To be unable to comprehend, and appreciate, this runs against the spirit of the game.

Yes, India not making past the first round would be a huge setback. But it would be accorded the status of a national calamity. It will be discussed in Parliament. Television channels will conduct inquests. Effigies will be burnt, cricketers' homes will be attacked, and these will be gleefully publicised. A couple of months ago, Greg Chappell was slapped on the back by a man in Bhubaneswar seeking his fifteen seconds of fame. He was obliged. It could get worse. Someone could get killed. Perhaps someone has already been killed.

As an Indian, I would like India to win the World Cup. But it might not be such a bad thing for cricket if they were to be knocked out in the first round. Cricket needs a reality check. It has an unhealthy, and unsustainable, business model that relies primarily on an increasingly delusional and one-dimensional fan-base. The bubble has to burst for a semblance of sanity to be restored. We must learn to once again enjoy cricket as a game.

Woolmer didn't just embrace innovation, he made it the norm © Cricinfo Ltd

Tim de Lisle

The last time the cricket world saw Bob Woolmer was in the closing minutes of Pakistan's game with Ireland on Saturday. Triumph and disaster, Kipling's twin impostors, were hovering over Sabina Park like a pair of blimps. One set of supporters was already having a ball, dancing and hooting and laughing. Some members of the other set were shortly to go out on the streets back home, chanting murderous slogans. The camera kept going to Bob, watching as Ireland inched to their target. His face was glum, motionless, quite unlike him. Then the game ended, the Irish jigs reached the middle, and the camera found Bob again. He was packing away his laptop. That was more like him.

These days, you often see players and coaches sitting at computers but the idea is relatively new and it was Bob Woolmer who pioneered it. He was the first laptop coach. He didn't just embrace innovation, he made it the norm. After his creativity turned South Africa into the world's second-best team in 1994-99, Australia and England both hired coaches who were thinkers rather than ex-doers. Later, West Indies and of course Pakistan followed suit. Coaching is now recognised as a skill in its own right, quite separate from playing.

Bob's laptop was used to enlighten fans as well as players. He leapt onto the web, launching his own website and blogging on Cricinfo
, and he used email to keep in touch with his many friends. If you mailed him, you always got an answer, however busy he was, and it always ended "kind regards, Bob". He was both a citizen of the cricket world and an English gentleman.

In fact, he was the only major international coach English cricket has produced. As England has more teams and professionals than any other cricket country, it should produce the most coaching talent. But it doesn't. What did Bob have that many fine ex-players didn't?

Bob combined the precision of Ray Illingworth with the warmth of David Lloyd

The first key is in his playing career. In the obits, his playing years got rather crunched and a point was missed. He was a player who reinvented himself. He started with Kent as a swing-bowling allrounder, batting at nine. He saw potential in his own batting, but Kent didn't: they kept him down the order, often below Alan Knott, a gifted improviser but was never going to be a frontline batsman. To prove himself in the top five, Woolmer had to winter in Natal. His Test career followed the same pattern: first picked in July 1975 as a bowling allrounder, batting at eight, he was number five by August, when he made his epic 149 against Australia. By 1977, he was an Ashes-winning number three. Things went awry after that, but he had shown the ability to turn raw material into achievement.

The second key was his personality. If you ever saw him interviewed on television, you will have noticed his cheerful demeanour. Some cricket people are like that on screen and not off. Bob was just like that. It is said of the best players that they have more time. Offstage, they often don't: they are much in demand and can get spoilt by it. Bob always had time for people.

The third key was his attitude. He was tremendously open. "My philosophy," he used to say, "is that your mind is like a parachute - if it doesn't open, it won't work." For someone who had grown up in a county dressing-room in the 1970s, that was a radical point of view. If he sometimes erred on the side of novelty, as with the notorious earpieces, it was a refreshing change from all those leaning the other way.

The final key lay in his handling of people. He was gentle - Allan Donald even used the word "soft". Even when it emerged that Hansie Cronje had betrayed his own team, Bob was sympathetic. The man with "What Would Jesus Do" on his bracelet had done a Judas; the man who could have felt most betrayed managed to be forgiving, if not totally convincing to the more detached onlooker.

Bob combined the precision of Ray Illingworth with the warmth of David Lloyd. His cuddly silhouette was not misleading. In the Seventies, he was one of my favourite players, which can lead to disappointment if you eventually meet, but Bob simply became one of my favourite ex-players. At Wisden Cricket Monthly, I signed him up as an agony uncle for readers who were having trouble with their game. It never felt like talking to an old-timer. He didn't harp on about what happened in his day. As he said in the mantra on his homepage, 'Yesterday is history / Tomorrow is a mystery / Today is the present / A gift to make the most of'.

With a CV that encompassed Kent, Natal, England, Packer, Avondale, Boland, Kent again, Warwickshire, South Africa, several minnow nations and Pakistan, he was the most cosmopolitan of coaches. But, paradoxically, the World Cup was cruel to him. Picked for the England squad for the inaugural tournament in 1975, he broke a finger the day before it began. In 1999, his South African team endured the most agonising of near-misses, losing a tied semi-final to Australia on the strength of a 0.1 difference in run-rate. This time, in a World Cup designed to keep all the good teams in, Pakistan somehow stampeded for the exit. And then came the greatest cruelty of all. Woolmer himself, amenable as ever, said he would "sleep on" his future, and never woke up.

Whether the game did for Bob, we may never know. What Bob did for the game, happily, is not in doubt.

Doing it with style: Trent Johnston hit a six to dump Pakistan out of the World Cup © Getty Images

Dileep Premachandran

The son of James Joyce was instrumental in Ireland qualifying for this World Cup, with two centuries and two fifties in the 2005 ICC Trophy. And before the more literary among you get apoplectic, yes we do know that the man who wrote Ulysses and Finnegan's Wake passed away in January 1941. But by a happy quirk of fate, Edmund Christopher Joyce, Ed to his Irish and English team-mates, was also born to a James, and his 399 runs from five games were the focal point of a campaign in which the next highest scorer for Ireland was Trent Johnston with 183.

Joyce's heroics were proof that Ireland weren't just a team of journeyman pros imported from countries like Australia and South Africa. While the likes of Johnston, opener Jeremy Bray and South African allrounder Andrè Botha have all contributed to Irish cricket's dramatic rise through the associate ranks, Adrian Birrell, the coach, is keen to emphasise that 11 of the 15-man squad were born and bred in Ireland. "Ed was our best
player," he says. "And he now opens for England. So we don't just import talent, we're also exporting it (smiles)."

Under Birrell, who spent 16 years with Eastern Province in South Africa, the different elements have combined together quite beautifully. "When I took over, we were probably ranked 18th or 20th in the world," he says. "Now, we're arguably the strongest associate [nation]. And along the way, we've picked up some major scalps."

Victories over Zimbabwe in 2003 and a Surrey team with eight internationals in 2004 were followed by a defeat of West Indies (2005), their opponents in the final Group D game on Friday. And the disappointment of losing to Scotland in that 2005 ICC Trophy final was offset to some extent by their triumph in the Intercontinental Trophy, a competition in which they have reached the final again this year.

And it's not only the national side that's doing well. At the European Championships in 2006, Ireland were champions at all six age groups from Under-13 to seniors, and according to Birrell, "some of the young boys waiting in the wings are exceptionally good."

Irish cricket has history too. The old-timers still wax eloquent about Dougie Goodwin (5-6) and Alec O'Riordan (4-18), who routed a West Indian team for 25 on a damp pitch at the Sion Mills Ground, south of Londonderry. Over the years, the feat has lent itself to urban legend and the name of Sir Garfield Sobers crops up, but though he was captain on
that ill-fated tour in 1969, injury prevented him from crossing the Irish Sea. It was Basil Butcher that led a side which could also boast of a young Clive Lloyd and the 43-year-old Clyde Walcott.

Ed Joyce was instrumental in Ireland qualifying for this World Cup before England imported him © International Cricket Council

With that history of giant-killings in Irish cricket's past, Pakistan would have been wary last Saturday. But again, the conditions were to play a vital part in bridging the gulf in ability between the two sides. Though the pitch wasn't Sion Mills-damp, there was enough life in it to encourage the seam bowlers. And while both Dave Langford-Smith and the strapping Boyd Rankin were erratic, they produced the odd unplayable delivery.

Botha, with his experience of South African domestic cricket, did even better, exhibiting the mastery over line and length that was such a feature of South Africa's bowling in the Bob Woolmer-Hansie Cronje years. It was like watching Craig Matthews or Fanie de Villiers bowl, and even someone of the quality of Inzamam-ul-Haq was clueless as Botha bowled his eight overs for five runs and two wickets.

Over the course of an unforgettable St Patrick's Day, what we saw was a team where every individual appeared to raise his game, whether it was Johnston with that sensational catch to dismiss Kamran Akmal or Eoin Morgan with superb slip catches. William Porterfield rode his luck for a valuable 13, blocking up one end while the pint-sized Niall O'Brien went for his shots, and after a late wobble, Kevin O'Brien helped Johnston see
it home with a fighting knock.

The bald and affable Jeremy Bray had played his part in the tie against Zimbabwe, scoring a brilliant 115, while Kyle McCallan, the teacher who might now need to take some extra days off, got the fortunate touch that changed the course of a game that Zimbabwe seemed to be have in their grasp.

They may come unstuck against West Indies, but unless things go drastically wrong, there's a Super Eight date with England to look forward to in Guyana a week on Saturday. For James Joyce's son, there will certainly be mixed emotions.

What they say

"But for me the weekend - the whole winter, come to that - was lit up by the brothers O'Brien, that nerveless brace of freckled Celtic redheads who with such serenity and staunch skill at the crease dispatched Pakistan from cricket's World Cup. - Nobody tells it quite like Frank Keating in The Guardian

What the Irish say

"Our fielding is excellent, we have a long batting line-up and the bowling's very good when we get it right. But if you ask me what our greatest strength is, it's the team spirit." - Adrian Birrell talks about his side, and no, he wasn't referring to Guinness or Bushmills. At least, we think not.

Bob Woolmer lived by the theme 'Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, so concentrate on the now' © Getty Images

Osman Samiuddin

There are occasions when words, or anything else, are not enough. This is one of those occasions.

The last time I met Bob Woolmer was shortly before the team left for South Africa, over a seaside dinner, where, with a few other cricket tragics, we dissected the West Indies series, Pakistan openers, slip catching and South Africa. A dodgy stomach apart, he was much as I have known him over a couple of years.

Our first real interaction had been on Pakistan's tour to India at the beginning of 2005 where, in a Vishakapatnam hotel, we talked, with John Wright, about how to deal with erratic players like Shahid Afridi and Abdul Razzaq (the gist being it was more in the mind than in the body).

In October of that year, a rare bubbly time just before the England series that was to be the highlight of his tenure as Pakistan coach, we had our first prolonged interview. In a lengthy, frank chat in the afternoon Ramadan heat at the National Stadium in Karachi, he said as much on the record as he did off it and a rapport was immediately established. He had been a Wisden columnist and written regularly, which helped.

By then, a year into his job - a year of relative calm - he appeared keenly aware of the country's traditional volatility. He used one of his more prominent catchphrases then: 'Yesterday is history, tomorrow a mystery, so concentrate on the now,' and few axioms apply so aptly to Pakistan. He also chirped Inshallah (god willing) to Pakistan's prospects in forthcoming encounters, having quickly picked up on the time-honoured Pakistani response to uncertainty.

For a journalist he was a dream: genial, a dry wit and rarely flustered. Above all, he was always accessible, in person, on the phone, via SMS and e-mail. He didn't tire of talking cricket on and off the field, ready with a quote or three. Beyond cricket I knew little, but I always felt after he left the Pakistan job, I probably would, over time, continents, countries, e-mails and text messages, uncover more.

What made Bob special: innovative training sessions and a willingness to think beyond the field © Getty Images

People have noted he was media-savvy and, in light of his own coaching website and a regular stream of articles for various publications, it is difficult to argue. Certainly, he read cricket. He always made sure to tell me I was a crap writer and didn't know what I was writing about; very occasionally, he pointed out that I might indeed have made a valid point.

Signs of what made him one of cricket's early super-coaches in the mid-90s were still present, in innovative training sessions and a willingness to think beyond the field. He spoke, in our first interview, of how difficult it was to work around the hierarchical structure of cricket in Pakistan, where the oldest player is often captain and difficult to approach for younger players. Touch football, which Pakistan played in most training sessions, was his way of getting youngsters more comfortable in interacting with Inzamam-ul-Haq and thus eventually to working with him on the field.

Though it wasn't remembered recently, he did make a difference, for a time, to Pakistan and that is achievement enough. Younger and temperamentally fragile players responded initially to his openness, his shunning of dressing downs and embracing instead of a more open, talk-it-out atmosphere. For a phase, Pakistan bubbled; no factionalism, binding forces aplenty, victories on the field and a captain and coach in sync.

Sadly, it fell away after the Oval Test, one of the more significant fall-outs from the dressing room fiasco that day being a cooling in relations between Inzamam and Woolmer. Shoaib Akhtar was a more prominent personnel challenge, though Woolmer wasn't the first and won't be the last to have discovered that.

Outwardly, the sheer madness of the last six months didn't appear to have worried him - c'est la vie he once reasoned merrily - but underneath that surface who knows. He had thought of resigning in August after the Oval Test, since when matters in Pakistan cricket became only more volatile. His future after the World Cup, he said privately and publicly, was undecided but the prospect of finishing a book on his coaching life, from experiences in South African townships to Lahore via much else, was one priority.

No matter now, for what has gone previously, what he did as player or coach, whatever has happened, all of it is irrelevant at this moment. In time, after sorrow and regret, it will become clear that he had done enough with Pakistan, with South Africa, with Warwickshire, with the ICC and with the game to be remembered as an innovative, successful coach and not for a last-game defeat to Ireland. My last interaction with him was through e-mail. He wished me a speedy recovery from illness. I can no longer do the same to him and none of this is nearly enough. God bless your soul Bob.

It's only when players of Associate countries start playing regular top-class cricket that they will make inroads into the Full Member nations © Getty Images

Bob Woolmer

For years the second tier of cricket, known as the Associates, had been languishing in amateur status unable even to beat the county cricket teams in England. However in 2000 the ICC introduced the high-performance programme, which took four nations - Kenya, Namibia, United Arab Emirates and Canada - that had qualified for the 2003 World Cup in South Africa and gave them funding and expert coaching to help and aid their development. Seven years down the line,
the next group of associate nations have now improved beyond all recognition. Scotland, Ireland, Holland, Bermuda, Canada and Kenya make up the high performance nations for the 2007 World Cup.

My view is that the World Cup is a wonderful incentive for these countries to improve their cricket internally and help grow the game worldwide. It is a long-term project that needs all the help it can get. Ultimately, it's only when the players in those countries are playing regular top-class cricket and are paid professionally that they will start to make inroads into the Full Member nations.

In addition, players who were born in the high-performance countries but moved overseas with their parents when they were young are now returning to the land of their birth to help with their experience and to try and gain a place in the team with the World Cup as their incentive. In fact
the ICC has increased the funding 10-fold in order to narrow the gap between the full member countries and the Associates.

The associate countries have been prepared better for this World Cup than ever before and it has started to show in their performances. Ireland, in particular, have shown a rapid improvement, captained by an Australian, Trent Johnston, a medium-fast seamer and, with a number of players who have county experience in England, they have a very good team. Any side underestimating them will be doing themselves few favours.

Ireland recently had South Africa 98 for 8, which means that their bowling is very disciplined. The Irish have six out of seven lefthanders in the upper order and they are young and fit on the field. They are, in other words, a serious banana skin fixture.

All things being equal, international and full time professionals should beat their amateur counterparts 99% of the time. It is that nagging 1% that keeps teams honest and in fact the odds are greater in the six associate member nations because of the time and money spent on them. They now have a full-time four-day competition and at least three to four one-day tournaments in the lead-up to the World Cup.

They are now looked after by full-time trainers and coaches and in order to make the most of this some players have had to take nine months unpaid leave to play. They certainly have the motivation to want to do well.

The acid test, of course, is whether they can maintain their form and are able to deal with the professional cricketers. I find the golf analogy useful when trying to assess the difference (though there are no handicaps to assist). Professional golfers have been known to hit 2000 balls a day each while their amateur counterparts only have an eighth of the time to practice and consequently hit about 250 balls a day - and some of us on average about 1 extra ball a day per annum.

A professional golfer may hit up to 2000 balls a day, an amateur will have time only for 250 while the rest average just one extra ball a day © Getty Images

Practice is relative; it helps as long as it is constructive but the bottom line is that the professional sportsman generally hits far more balls, bowls far more balls and catches far more than his amateur counterpart and therefore should be better skills wise. The Pakistan v Ireland contest therefore should go the way of Pakistan, though it will, without doubt, be a real contest and Pakistan will not be treating this game lightly especially in view of the first game loss to the West Indies.

Strategically, Ireland will try and bowl tight lines and lengths with the keeper standing up to stifle the free-flowing style of the Pakistan batting line up and Pakistan too will try and bring a game plan that will apply pressure on the Irish bowling. The fielding should be of even standard and the bowling of Pakistan, with its variety, should cause the Irish batting some problems.

Despite the efforts of the high-performance programme the result should favour the Full Member nation. Inzamam-ul-Haq alone has played 350-plus matches; add the caps won by the whole Irish eleven, multiply by 10 and they do not have his experience! However all the conjecture and words mean nothing and it will be the intensity of competition that will eventually decide the outcome of this contest.