And bingo, as if on the mighty New Zealand knight's cue, Adam Parore shouldered arms to a vicious Welsh off-break and was adjudged lbw. Twenty minutes later, Dipak Patel went the same way of all fools, lbw offering no stroke, to Robert Croft, but not before Stephen Fleming had surrendered his honour by slogging at Croft and watching the bowler cling to a gut-wrencher of a skier.
``That,'' said Sir Richard, ``should be the brief, crucial passage of play which decides this match. The pressure got to the batsmen, the very, very good bowling, the testing field placements, the claustrophobia of endless defence against England's all-out attack. We've been outplayed in this match and don't deserve further rain to save us.''
Throughout the long, damp day, New Zealand's greatest cricketer had talked about bowling with the pragmatism that characterised his career and the enthusiasm that fuelled his achievements. Eighty-six Tests, 431 wickets at a fraction over 22 each and more than 3,000 runs at a touch over 27 per innings.
Hadlee was a remarkable cricketer in a triumphant age of Chappells, Border and Lillee, Richards, numerous West Indians and South Africans, Gooch, Gavaskar, Kapil, Imran and Botham, the all-rounders who gave cricket in the Eighties such spice, such unforgettable musketeering duels.
``The game is missing these duels, the head-to-heads which capture imagination and create heroes. Lara or Tendulkar versus Warne is special, as is Wasim Akram against anyone, but the memories of the four of us tearing into each other with bat and ball and desperate to nail each other are unforgettable. I thought Imran the most reliable batsman, Kapil the most explosive and Botham the most likely match-winner of all. I didn't average enough with the bat to be quite the genuine all-rounder that they were but I like to think that I finished the most complete bowler,'' he says.
Indeed, Sir Richard, we'll buy that, though better not tell Botham . .
``A misjudgment, that's all, at a tough, no-win time to bat. Mind you, if you offer no shot, well, it's what the lbw law is there for. The boys will have to ask themselves if they have planned a technique for this sort of spin attack.
``I am most impressed with Croft. English off-spinners have bowled too much towards middle and leg but this line wide of off-stump, drifting away and spinning sharply back, is perfect. It creates such indecision. Croft and Tufnell complement each other well. This is fine, match-winning bowling and a variety which is good for the game because in the game the match-winners are the fast strike bowlers.''
Which is how Hadlee, ultimately the supreme medium-fast technician, started out, a budding ``striker'', all youthful brawn and typically keen to see the whites of the batsman's eyes. He says there were three stages in his development as a bowler, much as there were with Dennis Lillee, who was his greatest influence. He says that the raw-strength, macho approach of his early years was replaced by a more rhythmical, fine-tuned method. Then, he says, off a shorter run and with enough control to work an opponent over, he became threefold the performer and took three times the wickets.
``Economy of effort becomes essential and most of the best fast bowlers eventually sacrifice pace for accuracy and movement,'' he says. ``I was a disciple of Dennis, who created his aura and presence in his early years before illustrating his immense courage by recovering from that back injury and returning to bring supreme skill to his art. Only Wasim Akram of modern fast bowlers has anything like Lillee's all-round talent and there is no question that Wasim is the most complete fast bowler in the world today.''
What did he make of Darren Gough, who was throwing every inch of himself at New Zealand, and smiling still as he walked wicketless back to his mark?
``I like him. He wants to bowl fast, which is a good place to start from. I just wonder if he knows his role. I think he should be explosive, banging the ball into the pitch and further developing his natural swing. I don't think he should be in a third-seamer role, he should be used to strike. I would understand if he said he didn't want the new ball at the moment - I didn't for a long time - but it will become his closest ally one day. He needs to have more of a stock-length delivery, ideally which leaves the bat in the way that he got Parore in the first innings.''
And what of Andrew Caddick, whose idiosyncracies mimic the maestro with startling accuracy?
``No, I never coached him! Yes, there are lots of similarities. The wrist bands, the shuffle at the start of the run, the approach to the crease, the follow-through. He even had a moustache once, y'know. His action is a bit open at the moment and when he falls away a little, the ball sort of falls out of his fingers, which means he loses pace. But his height is a great attribute and as long as he always looks to attack, he will be dangerous. He must make batsmen play more, especially as that bounce is such a threat. He's got to really want to succeed. I wonder, by the way, if he feels English or a New Zealander. It can't be easy for him to know.''
And Dominic Cork, a rose-cheeked Englishman if ever there was one, but rather pale at present?
``Cork is theatrical, which is no bad thing, and which sways the marginals when demanding a decision from the umpire. I suspect he may have to learn to cope when things don't go his way. You know, damp run-ups, like we had here on the first afternoon, a breeze working against him, personal differences or whatever, but he's talented all right, with that side-on action and swing as his most valuable assets. He likes to attack and as long as he continues to accept responsibility and not to play up, he should come out on top. He's got a bowling brain, too, which one can al- most see ticking away.''
Ah, the bowling brain, perhaps this knight's greatest gift. He said that the head was the most important cog in bowling. To think and to see with it and for balance and poise. He had worked, he said, during his last 10 years on the position of his head, concentrating exclusively on keeping it still and upright.
Rhythm was the next thing, which came from concentrated focus and from keeping things simple. Rhythm came from preparation, from long, hard hours in the nets, from thoughtful fitness training and from a clear mental approach. It was no good, he said, if your mind was clogged by no-ball problems, or run-up problems, or frustration with your opponent. No, he said that fast bowling was an ``explosive sequence of highly co-ordinated movements'' and that a still head and a smooth rhythm were imperative.
STUDYING the miles of videotape of Lillee had taught him to plan an over and to work batsmen over. Even at fine-leg between overs, he said, a bowler should be watching a batsman's movements and plotting.
``Each over is like having six shots in a gun. You use the first few to set up the enemy, moving him about the crease, and then on maybe the fourth or fifth shot, you look to nail him. I liked to see three things, batsmen who showed all three stumps in their stance, batsmen who shuffled nervously in the crease and batsmen who ended up stuck in the crease.'' ``Mind you,'' he added, ``I got 0-100 a few times, too, you know!''
He said he remembered county cricket fondly and that he never had thought it soft. ``Actually, I thought it was a very good standard but I retired in 1987 so I'm not qualified to comment now. County cricket certainly helped me and really should help any cricketer to improve. Good players survive no matter how many overseas players there are and remember that up until '87, there were two per county. Thirty of the world's best plus all the England players in one competition - it can't have been too bad. There wasn't the mediocrity I hear of now; in fact, the opposite, each game was a genuine test of a cricketer.''
He said he liked the idea of two divisions, as long as a transfer market didn't rob worthy counties of their stars. Toughening up young players was important and if two divisions would do so, then fine. This from a man who knew county cricket inside out, who, in 1987, was three wickets short of his second ``double'' after a first in 1984, and who won two championship medals with Nottinghamshire.
Sir Richard Hadlee lives by the words of his father, Walter, who led New Zealand to England in 1949, and who simply told his son to ensure that whatever he did, he did to the very best of his ability. ``Which was a philosophy I adhered to by setting myself targets and goals. I admit that I was driven by statistics, for which I was criticised, but statistics were my motivation and they lead to the basic pride in my performance, which was the thing I valued the most.''
I asked him what had given him the most pleasure and he said that Sunil Gavaskar had once written: ``Richard Hadlee interrogates me at the crease. If I can't reply to the questions that he asks me then he'll win and that is the ultimate cricket challenge.'' Which, said Sir Richard, along with all those wickets and a knighthood, would do nicely. Quite right, too.