Bob Woolmer points instead to the cultural differences which first separated him from his team: ``They weren't open at all when I came in. We needed to introduce a lot more freedom and lateral thinking.

``At the same time I discovered that terminology was very important. I was this Englishman coming into a South African dressing room. My sense of humour could rankle. I remember playing an Academy XI in New Zealand. We'd bowled them out for 180 but we were soon struggling ourselves at 18 for three. I turned to Hansie and quipped, `Well, let's hope we save the follow-on'.It was just a throwaway line but it really upset him. He felt I was being negative. We both learned from such incidents.''

As Woolmer prepares South Africa for one last week before concluding his contract the day after the World Cup, he has undoubtedly moulded a rigorous team.

Yet, as unbreakable as they seem on the field, they have also become one of cricket's most approachable squads. ``I wouldn't say that's entirely down to me,'' Woolmer says, ``because I'm often regarded as a bumptious and arrogant guy. But then everyone calls the Australians arrogant. I looked up the meaning of the word and it said that arrogance is when someone talks about a subject as if he knows more than he actually does. But the Australians know what they're talking about when it comes to cricket.''

Tomorrow's encounter at Headingley could also highlight the chasm that occasionally still surfaces between Woolmer and his South African charges. ``I used to get angry with Bob,'' Donald recalls, ``because he was so in awe of theAustralians. When they last beat us in Australia, Bob kept saying how unbelievable they were. That made me mad, because I hate it when people go on about the tough Aussies. I don't care what anyone says, we're just as mentally strong.''

Raja was more gently philosophical. ``I think they're ready to win this tournament,'' the dapper little manager murmured. ``Of course I would love that. But, whatever happens, over the last five years these boys have become like my children. They're outstanding cricketers but, away from the cameras and the crowds, they've turned out to be even better men.

``I'll always remember last Saturday. The cricketing images might fade but I'll never forget the scene afterwards. Lance Klusener had just stepped out of the shower. The boys were ready for a few beers. It was the players' time and so I picked up some of the plastic bottles they use on the field. I took them over to the sink and began to wash them. ``Next thing I know, Lance is over in a flash. He has a towel wrappedaround him and he says: `No, boss! That's not your job!' In the end we did the washing-up together, the Man-of-the-Match and me. Y'know, as a South African, thatoment seemed more important to me than anything.''

--ONS