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How is it that a nation with 25 times as many sheep as humans can humble one with 55 million people and some 350 professional cricketers? Continuity, confidence and commitment, that's how. New Zealand have reached two World Cup semi-finals in seven years and have a burgeoning recent Test record. Their cricket is based on clear thinking, resourcefulness and hard work.

They are reared in a culture of trust, encouragement and harmony. There are no cliques or difficult individuals and everyone, to use the Kiwi vernacular, ``chups'' in. Witness yesterday's scorecard when nobody apart from the No 10, Chris Harris, failed to make double figures.

Take a close look at their current team. The two Matthews, Horne and Bell, open the innings. Neither is a spectacular player, in fact Bell is quite ordinary, but he allies a stolid technique to unwavering concentration. Horne plays to his limitations.

Nathan Astle and Craig McMillan are clean, muscular strikers of the ball with minimum footwork and maximum bat speed. They are accompanied by Roger Twose, a Cornishman whose occasional bumptiousness often irked the English powers that be, but was welcomed with open arms by New Zealand.

In the bowling department, Dion Nash and Chris Cairns, aided and abetted by Geoff Allott, are zestful and versatile and Daniel Vettori's languid skills are advancing rapidly. Behind his studenty image lies an iron determination. Harris is a quirky cricketer whose subtle leg-rollers would never have been allowed off the village green in our myopic state. (Mike Atherton once said, in all seriousness, that never mind Donald, Ambrose or Akram, Harris was his most feared opponent, underlined by the way Atherton pocked and prodded at him yesterday, like a salmon fisherman hampered by sticklebacks.)

Adam Parore, the blather-happy wicketkeeper, provided jaunty encouragement behind the sticks and the team are marshalled by an outgoing, articulate captain, Stephen Fleming, an impressive, urbane figure with confidence and humility in equal measure. Though a touch defensive, Fleming has an assertiveness and composure which reassures his men, five of whom (Astle, McMillan, Cairns, Harris and Allott) are from his own Canterbury provincial side. This is the nucleus of the team. It is a kernel, not an exclusive clique. Whether training, fielding or tossing a Frisbee about after play, they exhibit a tangible togetherness.

Steve Rixon, their Australian coach, has worked hard instilling them with more self-belief, concentrating on professionalism and an injection of Aussie steel - ``the only things I know,'' he said. There are only about 16 players in New Zealand of reputable international standard and having learnt how to lose together, those 16 are now learning to win.

We, like other nations underestimated New Zealand, which is of course a situation that they thrive on. McMillan said as much when he remarked yesterday: ``Obviously we were written off by the press here which has given us quite a lot of amusement and a bit of extra fire.''

He continued in his uncomplicated vein yesterday, giving anything wide a hearty clump through the covers. He has little foot movement and looks shaky against the well directed short-stuff, but he focuses on his strengths rather than fretting about his weaknesses. In the English system, someone would probably have tinkered with him until he fell apart.

Old Trafford these last few days has symbolised everything that is depressing about English cricket - like a Kiwi bird, it has seemed flightless, and only able to see just beyond the end of its beak.

There are have been hangdog looks, measly weather, a rotten pitch (the fault of impregnated soil rather than negligent groundstaff) uninspiring selections and largely uncharismatic cricket. The half-empty ground looks a dingy shadow of its former self with greying stands and a hotchpotch of protuberances and a ropey outfield that even the gulls think is not worthy of them. Let's hope they don't have the England carcass to pick off later on today.