New Zealanders are quite dizzy with the knowledge that England were on the wrong end of so much of the cricket and the publicity in Zimbabwe. Barring a session and a half of wild, naive seam bowling on the first day of this Eden Park Test, England have appeared a decent bunch and a decent team during their first three weeks here, brushing aside competent warm-up opposition with the sort of thorough cricket which has been an Australian trademark, and using a charm offensive to deal with the local people and all the press.
Australia on the other hand, though not for a minute forsaking their dignity, have lost form and with it a succession of one-day World Series Cup matches to the West Indies and to Pakistan. They also made a hash of the third Test against the West Indians in Melbourne, and then last week sacked their formidable chief executive of 12, some would say ultimately glorious years, Graham Halbish.
The delighted whisper on the streets of Auckland is that Australian cricket may not be all that it is cracked up to be, and that even their present stranglehold on the pretty ordinary West Indians is more woeful Windies than awesome Oz. The other deli- cious whisper is that there may be more to England than meets the eye and that with a tweak here and a touch-up there the Ashes series next summer may not be so one-sided as all Australia ex- pects.
Surprise, surprise, after painful Zimbabwe, but I am with the New Zealanders on this one. Watching Stewart at work and Atherton, Thorpe and Crawley as well was like watching convicted men emerge from a well of no-hope so that they might, with their recovered strength, prove their innocence and ultimately their worth.
Technically, Stewart batted just about as well as he can and certainly with as much assurance as at any time since his virtuoso performance in Barbados three years ago. There was much that was Australian about his style, what with that hint of swagger and the imperious air, and some that was even better than any of the modern Australians, most especially when he reeled off back-foot drives of increasing precision and dominance.
There was plenty of this approach in John Crawley's brief appearance too, before Thorpe momentarily mislaid his marbles and ran out his Lancastrian accomplice, and tough old New Zealand nuts such as Glenn Turner and Ian Smith wondered how the devil Zimbabwe did it.
It was as if England were growing up, as if that awful taste of ``we know best'' that lingered about Bulawayo and Harare, had been replaced by humility and industry and that these qualities had allowed the natural skills of England's cricketers to reappear.
If, in the spring, Graeme Hick and Robin Smith can find their true, uninhibited selves and if Mark Butcher can kick on from 70s and 80s to three figures and more, England should match Australia with the bat for talent and surprise the oldest enemy with the size of their heart.
Ah, I hear you cry, but these Englishmen cannot hit the stumps of a New Zealander, let alone disturb the wickets of a Waugh, a Taylor or a Bevan. Not yet, but this bowling is done by young men whose surprising immaturity has been exposed and then exaggerated by the accusations of inadequacy levelled against them. Australia would love the effervescence of a Dominic Cork or a Darren Gough and it is the choice of who must hold their hands that will count because a balance of temperament in the selection of a bowling attack is the rub.
By nature Cork and Gough are attackers, and if at first they don't succeed then rather than try and try again they allow their natural instinct for enthusiasm and experimentation to consume them. Two mean men - Angus Fraser types, Andrew Caddick styles bowlers who jar the enemy's bottom hand with short-of-a-length, seam-hitting perseverance must be their companion, the Fagans to their Artful Dodgers. All-rounders are available too; Chris Lewis, the enigma; Mark Ealham, the honest; and Adam Hollioake, the likely lad. Robert Croft must play, a proud Welshman with a craft to set alongside any finger spinner in the land.
As the West Indies found again on Saturday, it is with spin, wrist-spin, that Australia are most likely to remain boss. Shane Warne has recovered his fitness and his accuracy, though not yet his destructive ability yet, at exactly the time Australia most needed it. Michael Bevan's left-arm unorthodox has emerged from his jittery left-handed batting to be his own saviour and his team's sucker punch. Yorkshire may crow at the idea of Bevan outbowling England, but beware of Bevan, the street kid. England must conquer wrist-spin, their chronic Achilles' heel, if they are to conquer Australia.
Mind you, Australia have been doing a reasonable job of conquering themselves. The dismissal of Halbish was apparently because he was threatening to get too big for his boots. He clashed, all Australia has guessed for no one has told them, with the chairman of the Australian Cricket Board, Dennis Rogers, in issues of business initiative and over-zealous government.
Halbish has simply said that there are two sides to a story and gone for comfort to his lawyer. Halbish did a fine job for Australian cricket, which was sick when he took it on in the middle 80s and has been healthy for most of the 90s.
THIS shock dismissal came hard on the heels of other fascinating asides. Bobby Simpson, the successful and opinionated, if not always popular, coach for a decade was replaced last autumn by Geoff Marsh, an altogether more pliable employee. Ricky Pontin, the boy wonder batsman, was dropped only two Test matches after his brave and important 88 in the first innings of the first Test of the Australian summer, when Walsh, Ambrose, Bishop and Benjamin seamed and bounced the new ball all over Brisbane.
The country did not approve of the omission of Pontin and neither does it think much of the indecision over the respective merits of Bevan and Stuart Law, Michael Slater, who is also out of favour, Matthew Hayden and Matthew Elliot, Tom Moody and Justin Langer. Yes, Australian cricket with its fast emerging blanket professionalism has its own issues and agendas too. Why, one leading Australian columnist writing in the The Australian said that the team was under-achieving because too many of the fringe players were selfishly going about securing their place for the sought-after tour of England. Now there's a compliment.
In increasing numbers they are calling for the head of the best of all international captains, Mark Taylor, who is short of runs. Now there is a tale that Atherton will understand well. No doubt about it, if Australia come to England feeling too cocky they could, if England select sensibly and then play to the strength of typical English conditions and pitches, fall head over heels in the wake of what may be remembered as the great Zimbabwe con job. Now wouldn't New Zealand enjoy that.