The World Cup ought to be a ball, but not everyone in cricket is invited. The game's biggest tournament has evolved in a curious way, with plenty of teams but strangely small squads. This year the number of teams, 14, has almost caught up with the number of players per team - 15. It's as if the idea was to ensure that bad teams receive an invitation while good players miss out. It would be more appetising if the organisers had only taken up a suggestion floated a few years ago by a little-read English columnist whose name escapes me. The idea was to have one extra team, the International Rejects XI, who could choose from all the players not wanted by their countries. This would concentrate the minds of selectors around the world, because their boys might find themselves up against the very man they left behind - who would be armed with a grudge and a store of inside information.

What would the team look like this time? The No. 1 slot, and shirt, has to go to Mark Waugh, who was bundled out of one-day cricket ahead of his time when the Aussies needed a scapegoat for the defeats by New Zealand a year ago. His batting average since the 1999 World Cup is 43, and he is still one of the best catchers in the world at slip or short midwicket.

His opening partner could be Graeme Smith of South Africa, who was kept out of the World Cup squad only by the race quota: he averages 41 in one-dayers and proved his temperament by making decent scores against the Aussies in his first few games. He and Waugh are nicely balanced - left and right, solid and stylish. The spare opener is Mark Butcher, one of the few Englishmen alive who have never won a one-day cap.

At No. 3, and competing with Waugh for the second-spinner slot, would be Graeme Hick: you may laugh, but he has a better one-day record than Adam Gilchrist. At four, you need a finisher: step forward Graham Thorpe, who would surely agree to six weeks away from the kids, in term-time, with no long-term commitment required.

At five, marching out with grim determination whenever the score is 50 for 3, comes Steve Waugh. Nobody in the world captains a one-day side so well, and no cricketer has such a broad view of life: a man who heads his own charity in Calcutta, providing care for the daughters of lepers, is not going to shy away from commenting on the atrocities in Zimbabwe. It's almost a bonus that Waugh has a proven ability to dig his team out of a hole when the World Cup is at stake. His bowling doesn't inspire so much confidence, but his brother will be on hand to tell him not to bother.

The allrounders are any two from three useful and seasoned performers: Neil Johnson, a star of the 1999 World Cup who would surely fancy playing on his home turf if he wasn't being paid in Zimbabwe dollars; Adam Hollioake, who has to be worth a go in his new six-hitting mode, and could be Waugh's vice-captain; and Greg Blewett, who could be to this World Cup what Tom Moody was in 1999 - the forgotten man storming back from oblivion who can be relied on to bowl a few canny overs and score at a run a ball at the death.

The wicketkeeper is Jack Russell. Remember him? The England selectors don't. Russell has reinvented himself and his craft, converting wicketkeeping into a form of attack, standing up to seamers, turning wides into stumpings, and getting so close that the batsman can smell his manky old sun-hat. (Sorry there are so many Englishmen, it's because we lead the world in the art of duff selection.)

The quality dips slightly with the specialist bowlers. The new ball would be taken by any two from Alan Mullally (recently rated No 2 in the world by PwC, and about No 7 in England by Duncan Fletcher), Damien Fleming (unwanted by Victoria, let alone Australia, but a master at the death), and Kenny Benjamin, still taking wickets for Easterns in South Africa. There is a temptation to send for Martin Bicknell, picked a couple of times for England when he was young and raw, and steadfastly ignored ever since he mastered the art of swinging the new ball. In a country where Matthew Hoggard has done well, Bicknell would do better.

The frontline spinner is Stuart MacGill, the world's most gifted international reject. You might not want to toss the ball to him when Michael Vaughan is in, but against everyone else he is a proven wicket-taker who would be well worth the risk of occasional expense or overheating.

The reserves might include Robin Singh, whose age is approaching his bowling average but who still fields and runs better than half the Indian team; Kevin Pietersen, a fearsome hitter who is between countries (qualifying for England in 2004); a young South African batsman-fielder such as Jacques Rudolph, to come on as 12th man and bring down the average age; and Jimmy Adams, 'staid old Jimmy Adams' as he once referred to himself, still averaging 40 in both forms of the game and offering plenty of local knowledge in his capacity as captain of Free State.

The team would creak a little in the field, but the way Steve Waugh captains, outfielding is less important. The slip cordon of Mark Waugh, Hick and Thorpe would be as good as any. The know-how would be second to none, and almost every player would have a point to prove and nothing to lose. You'd back them to make the Super Six. And then, well ... every time the Waughs have reached the second round, they have gone all the way to the final.

Tim de Lisle is editor of Wisden Cricketers' Almanack 2003.

This is an updated version of an article which originally appeared in the October 2002 edition of Wisden Asia Cricket.

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