IAN HEALY'S EYES rolled as I approached him in the busy foyer of the Westbury Hotel, the Australians' London base. It was shortly before lunchtime on the day after the dramatic Oval Test and I was clutching a bottle of champagne – a small thankyou for the time he was about to give up. The Australian wicketkeeper, casually dressed and recently showered, appeared to be grateful for the gesture, but his expression suggested that, after a heavy night, alcohol wasn't quite what he was after right now.

Of all the Australian players, Healy is the one who has to be seen to be letting his hair down. He is the team cheerleader; the man whose honour it is after an Australian victory to stand up in the beer-drenched dressing-room and lead the singing of the traditional bush song Under the Southern Cross. It's a jaunty little number:

Under the Southern Cross I stand

A sprig of wattle in my hand

A native in my native land:

Australia, you bloody beauty!

And there are a couple more verses which are saved up for when things are going really well on the field.

 Rodney Marsh started the tradition, and passed it on to David Boon. After more than a decade, Boon had to find a replacement and chose Healy. `I suppose I have slipped into it quite easily,' Healy says, in that deep, throaty voice that always takes me by surprise. `Boony chose me as his successor and when my moment came to take over, at Adelaide two summers ago, I was more nervous than I have ever been playing cricket. We had two rousing verses at Trent Bridge when we retained the Ashes, and if we had won at the Oval we had already decided to go the whole hog, and sing all three!'

It seems such a typically Australian thing to do and something I simply cannot imagine happening in a England dressing-room.

`You have to be real mates so you will go out and do everything for the other blokes in the team. It's essential, I think, to the team's success, especially if you aren't playing well. If you're winning, it's easy to cover up any lack of team spirit, but when you start losing in that situation, the team can segregate and break up alarmingly quickly.

Right Bowled, Warney! Healy celebrates the retention of the Ashes with the man whose legspin he reads so well. `There's no doubt,' he says, `that keeping to Warney has helped my reputation tenfold'

`That was how, after our terrible start, we were able to get back on top this summer. While England celebrated at Edgbaston after they won the first Test, I stood on the balcony and realised that things were pretty serious. England had surprised us in the Texaco Trophy and then completely outplayed us in the Test: we were looking down the barrel.

`We had a team meeting and emphasised how special the Ashes are to us. We knew we were underdone in terms of preparation and, yes, a bit blasé about coming to England. It wasn't purely the administrators' fault, it was ours, too. We had all seen the schedule a couple of years ago and knew we were due to play seven one-dayers in South Africa before coming here, where our build-up was so limited. It won't happen that way again. Fortunately, Glenn McGrath then bowled superbly at Lord's and we built our recovery on the back of his performance.'

  IAN HEALY, now 33, is the best keeper in the world – no doubt about it. He is also amazingly durable. He has played in 94 Tests and has missed only one match in all that time – the third Test in Pakistan in 1994–95– because of a broken thumb. Perched behind the stumps, with the peak of his beggy green cap almost touching the bails, Healy is magnificent. His legside stumping of Mark Butcher off Michael Bevan at Old Trafford and, at Headingley, his low, right-handed catch to dismiss Mark Ealham off McGrath were just two shining examples this summer of his agility and, just as important, his fearlessness.

Unfortunately, critics searching increasingly desperately for fair play in modern Test cricket have been quick to point an accusing finger in Healy's direction. `Too many appeals,' they say, and surely all this `Bowled Warney!' business after every ball must put the batsmen off?

 When pitch mikes came in, I wondered about keeping quiet but thought `To hell with it! It's my job to keep the fielders going'

`I think my reputation might have suffered because people hear me on television encouraging the bowlers from behind the stumps and decide that I'm too aggressive,' Healy admits. `When pitch microphones were first introduced, I wondered about keeping quiet but then thought To hell with it! It's my job to keep the fielders going. Mind you, I couldn't sit there in front of the telly and listen to me going on all the time!'

There have also been some very obvious moments of sportsmanship in this series. At Lord's, Healy over-ruled his team-mates in the slip cordon and told the umpires that his appeal for a catch against Graham Thorpe should be turned down (David Shepherd led the applause). And whenever Healy edged a catch himself, he set off for the pavilion almost before an appeal was made.

`It's nice if people have noticed that I am a true sportsman. I can promise you that I have not been making a special effort this summer and I haven't done anything that I did not do as a kid. What I find is that people tend to believe what they want about you anyway, regardless of how you play or how you behave: people jump to conclusions.'

What about Healy's performance at Old Trafford, when he put on a helmet to keep wicket to Warne? Surely that was gamesmanship? Healy looked suitably offended.

`I can promise you that I was not trying to con the English batsmen! I was amazed to read that in the paper the next day. I don't care less about the batsmen, because I've got enough to think about when Warney bowls into the rough. The problem is that some balls shoot along the ground and others can fly up over my head. At Old Trafford I had to do something.

Above Head over Heals: Mark Taylor celebrates Healy's superb dive to catch Alec Stewart for 87 in the fifth Test at Trent Bridge Right Mike Atherton congratulates Healy on his Man of the Match award, also at Trent Bridge Left Healy Tells his mates what happened when he didn't quite catch Graham Thorpe at Lord's

`It was not the first time I had done it. We were in Jamaica a couple of years ago, in the same sort of situation on a rock-hard pitch and the ball doing all sorts of things out of the rough. Mark Taylor told me to get a helmet on. I said: You reckon? Taylor had talked it through with Bob Simpson, our coach, and realised that no-one would be able to take over if I got one in the mouth. Fair comment, I thought, and put one on!

`I've never been hit badly, but I cut my chin at Trent Bridge in 1989 and left the field to be stitched up. Actually, the more I think about it, I must get myself a mouth-guard.

`I've resorted to standing outside the leg stump once – when Warney was bowling to Peter Kirsten of South Africa at Adelaide. It wasn't spinning very much and Warney was aiming for the rough so I just stood there down the leg side. It's fine when the ball is sliding through and not jumping, but Warney usually gets it to kick towards the off side so I have to be there to get it, not down the leg side looking for the ball.

`More often than not, my takes out of the rough are purely instinctive, a quick reaction if you like. The more you worry about it all, the more likely you are to stuff up your decision-making.

`There's no doubt that keeping to Warney has helped my reputation tenfold. If Australia had only had an offspinner, say, we would not have won nearly so many matches and I would have spent most of my time standing back to the quicks. I have been so lucky to have Warney to keep to because he has done wonders for me. Mind you, he can very quickly destroy wicketkeepers' reputations as well as make them!

`I've been lucky and have always kept wicket to legspinners so I can read everything out of Warney's hand. What makes him so great is his control, his variation and how much he spins the ball. Although I'm pretty confident about keeping wicket to him, I always have a session with Warney before every Test match. We have a great relationship – and it has got to be teamwork. Warney's the leader, he wears the pants in our partnership, but we both rely on each other to the same extent and he has to have complete faith in me as well.

`When I was batting on the last day of the Oval Test, Tufnell switched his attack and went over the wicket to me. One ball pitched outside the leg stump and Stewart couldn't gather it. We ran three byes and Tufnell immediately went back round the wicket. You see, he didn't have faith in Stewart to support his line of attack.'

 THE GREATEST blow to Healy's career came just before the Ashes tour began. He was Taylor's vice-captain in South Africa– a huge honour for such a fierce patriot. But a dodgy decision in Pretoria prompted a bat-throwing incident right under the nose of Raman Subba Row, the referee. The result was a suspension from two one-day internationals, and the sack.

`Yeah, I was disappointed. I described losing the vice-captaincy as being a minor personal setback. It was my problem, therefore it was personal, and a minor setback in that it was not the end of the world as far as the rest of the team were concerned.

`I had to tell myself that I could not allow it to fester. Steve Waugh took over, and he's done a great job. Now I have to accept that I will never captain Australia, and that Steve, the heir apparent, will be our next leader.'

It has become almost routine, now, for Australia to come to England, mug us in the Test series and then leave with a disparaging comment or two about the state of our cricket. Healy's observations are based on the experiences of three tours.

`County cricket is pretty ordinary, quite frankly, but we don't get to see the full picture because so often the best cricketers don't play against us. I simply can't understand why they do that. At home, all of us are desperate to play against the tourists because it's an extra game – and an important, high-profile one, too.

  Robert Croft pulled out of the tour match – deliberately dodging us. If he'd got some wickets, it would have done him heaps of good

` Robert Croft gave a classic example of that when we played Glamorgan. He pulled out – deliberately dodging us. But if he had picked up some wickets on what was a turning pitch, surely that would have done his confidence heaps of good? Someone we respect enormously is Angus Fraser because he always plays in the county games – and usually bowls really well, too.

`I guess the average county cricketer does play a lot of cricket, and I like the look of the proposals to reduce the amount of Championship cricket. I reckon they'll help.'

So presumably Healy does not rate England's hopes in West Indies this winter too highly?

`I wouldn't say that. If the main bowlers – Gough and Caddick– stay fit, you've got a good chance. It seems that injuries have wrecked so many of England's main tours in recent years which is a shame because I really believe that if you win one, that could set you on your way.

`The best place to play West Indies is in West Indies. The pitches are flat and slow, so England's batsmen should be able to cope with the fast bowlers and then it's down to England's bowlers. There's reverse swing out there – even some spin – but when you play a team like West Indies, you can't let your concentration slip even for a moment. The best teams never waver.

`The only advice I could offer is to practise only under the fiercest of pressure, so you know you can handle whatever a match throws at you. I always practise what I might get: high catches, flat catches, slip catches, and keeping to fast bowlers and spin bowlers. Nothing beats preparation. As for standing facing towards extra cover, I can't work it out. Stewart seems to stand up and straighten up as the ball's on the way anyway, so I don't know what he's trying to do. If you ask me, it complicates the basics.'

Not that Healy would ever suggest that to Stewart's face – and nor, it seems, would he have much of an opportunity, should he want to do so. The days in which members of each team would take it in turns to visit the opposition's dressing-room after a day's play appear to be a thing of the past.

`To be truthful,' Healy says, `we've never really mixed in my time. My first tour was 1989 and I would go and talk to Gooch, Gatting and Gower after a match. Not many of the older blokes did, though – Allan Border had already made it clear that he was keeping himself to himself. Mike Atherton came in to our dressing-room for a chat at the end of the series, and the only time we have really mixed on this tour was at Trent Bridge when the battle for the Ashes was over.

`It's a shame. I think the younger blokes should go into the opposition dressing-room to talk and to learn. We mix well with the Indians and South Africans. Two or three of the West Indians are sociable, but their fast bowlers are aloof which suits me – there's no point in them being friendly one minute, and trying to knock your head off the next!'

 Ian Healy is a straightforward man who, I suspect, is the first to appreciate that cricket has been good to him. Mind you, having said that, do not expect any favours. `When do you suppose England will next win the Ashes?' I offer as we shake hands.

`I don't know and, quite frankly, I don't care!' is the businesslike reply. `What I do know is that it'll be one hell of a handover when it does happen, and I don't want to be part of it. We keep drumming that into our players and it gives us a lift whenever we need it.'

  Jonathan Agnew is cricket correspondent of the BBC

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