Melbourne - VB Series, Match 10
Tuesday, January 29, 2002 The outward signs aren't good. Sullen-faced. Inconspicuous. Lacking charisma in a team bursting with it. But Michael Bevan is something else in green and gold. This was outstanding, even by his standards. Softly, softly and then with relentless force, he took Australia from down-the-dunny disaster to triumph in 95 balls.

He hit no sixes, and only seven fours, but who at the MCG cared. Australia are back in the VB Series, the tournament is still triangular, and 40,008 people are basking in the knowledge of having seen one of the great matches and one of the great innings. After all the bad publicity, it was just what the MCG needed. A crescendo of excitement, a shot of adrenaline, mandatory light beer and not enough punch-ups to worry a cindy. Because going home to Go Aussie Go doesn't cultivate curled lips and clenched fists.

And maybe because the notorious Bay 13 is … not very scary at all. What used to be known as Yobbo Hill is full of teenagers. Pretty girls in vests and suntans, boys with cool haircuts and surfing gear. And they wave at each other, massively. Shout "you're a wanker" at each other, monotously. Point fingers at each other. Throw beach balls, giant fluorescent doughnuts, huge yellow and green GO Aussie fingers and, when they're feeling daring, blown-up condoms.

A voice three rows back leads the chants. Er, it seems to be the fat boy from school - but it doesn't matter. Four foot eleven, with a piping voice, specs and puppy fat. "Ozzie, ozzie, ozzie," he shouts. "Oi, oi, oi," reply the crowd, and everyone claps.

They all dance to probably the least butch choice of theme tune in cricket history - Kylie's Can't Get You Out Of My Head (care of Daniel Vettori). They prostrate themselves in worship to Shane Warne, the local hero who rescued his halo by making the second-highest score.

Any hint of potential fisticuffs is met by a mass charge towards the action, as in the school playground. And when one of them is hauled out, usually for throwing plastic bottles during the Mexican wave, he walks off sheepishly giving those nice officers no trouble.

The policemen, reduced to confiscating blow-up dolphins, either grin gamely or sulk. "It's a pain," said one. "They're just being idiotic. I want to watch the cricket but I can't."

You could see his point: this was a game you just didn't want to miss.

Tanya Aldred is assistant editor of Wisden.com.

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