Australia fire out 434 runs in 50 overs at the Wanderers. South African fans in the crowd wonder whether to go home at lunch, the Proteas are toast, not a chance they will come out and chase four hundred and thirty four runs. That is the highest ODI score in history. Until a few hours later when Boucher hits a four to give South Africa the win, 438. The highest ODI score in history. Four hundred and thirty eight. 26 sixes in the match in total. Four hundred and thirthy eight. The Australian captain tells it like it is; “They shouldn’t have got that.”
The cricket world is stunned. Indians turn from celebrating their win over England to stand in awe of both Australia and South Africa. The English must be gob smacked, the Pakistanis bowled over. Even the fast Sri Lankans are stupefied. Brian Lara himself is probably staring hard at his bat right now wondering how it is possible.
And in Ireland? Nobody had a clue. The papers don’t contain a single word about the game. All I can do is email mates back home. This is the first time since I have been in Ireland where I have felt homesick. Homesick for that feeling of driving around Cape Town cheering on our cricketing heroes, of knowing every face I see on the street is thinking; “Those boys, our boys, how’zat!”
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