When South Africa were 46 for four on Thursday, it was more or less nailed down that they would go on to make 350 plus and that one of their players, on this occasion Jonty Rhodes, would achieve an ambition held by all visiting batsmen and doff his helmet for a Test century at Lord's.
In 1994, when South Africa made their first visit to St John's Wood for 30 years, they found the old place inspirational enough to win by a record margin, while England's customary post-mortem was rendered even more grizzly by the forensic evidence involving the captain's trousers. If the ICC referee were ever to investigate the contents of an England supporter's trouser pocket at Lord's, he'd find nothing more sinister than a damp handkerchief.
England are still in with a chance of winning this match but not much of their cricket yesterday suggested that they have shed the introspection bred by years of failure. In the history of skirmishes between these two countries, England opted for something of a Bore War, with field placings designed to keep down the runs rather than take wickets. With the bat in his hands, Alec Stewart is a one-man cavalry charge but as a military tactician, he may not be significantly more dashing than Field Marshall Haig.
It is easier to forget now than it once was that Alec is the son of Micky, whose reign as England team manager revolved rather more around hard work and organisation than flair, and the sight of only two slips and no gully for the second new ball suggested, if not a chip off the old block, at least a sliver.
The South Africans were far from out of a large hole overnight but instead of England taking the initiative, it was Rhodes and Hansie Cronje who applied all the pressure, largely through their running between the wickets. Not every England fielder is as sharp as he might be and given the amount of wheel-clamping that goes on around St John's Wood during Test matches, it's a wonder Stewart didn't have to drive round after play and collect one or two of his men from the police pound.
Mind you, he was pretty lucky himself not to have his collar felt by the match referee having succumbed late in the day to South Africa's new ball attack. Even as George Sharp's finger began going up for Shaun Pollock's lbw shout, Stewart was desperately fighting an urge not to point to the edge of his bat, and the addition of a head jerked back in horror had him sailing perilously close to dissent before leaving the field. As Micky had a tendency to call this kind of thing ``disappointment'', perhaps we should blame the parents.