Tuesday, January 29, 2002 It is easy to imagine Mark Waugh, upon reading the news that Greg Chappell wants him sacked in favour of Darren Lehmann, indulging in one of those gargantuan yawns that sometimes sneak out just after he has clipped Shaun Pollock off his toes for four. Yet one suspects Waugh, though he exhibits few of the pangs of insecurity common to most fallible geniuses, cares more than he lets on, and if anything ruffled his unflappable exterior last week it might have been Australian selector Allan Border's appearance on a national TV panel.

It was not so much what Border said but the way he reacted when the name Shane Watson came up. Suddenly, Border's deadpan amiability vanished. Momentarily, his eyes bounced in their sockets, like a pair of lost goldfish. Fleetingly, a tinge of awe appeared to sweep across his face. Yes, Border confirmed, the selectors were indeed keeping a close watch on the boy Watson.

For Waugh, this may finally be the end. He has heard it all before, of course, underperforming but surviving while a generation of cursed middle-order heavyweights - Lehmann, Jones, Siddons, Law, Martyn, Katich - waited and wilted on the sidelines. But bringing in a Siddons or a Law for Waugh would simply have meant swapping one elegant batsman for another, and deep down everyone knew that when the going got toughest - in South Africa, say, or Pakistan - Waugh was the man most likely to produce one of those lithe, sublime hundreds that can turn a series.

Watson represents a different threat. He is a 20-year-old who bats at No. 4 yet is rumoured to bowl as quickly as anyone in the land. Born in the sticky Queensland town of Ipswich but playing for blustery Tasmania, he has a career batting average of almost 40 and, in his last three first-class matches, has taken 17 wickets at 10 runs each. He is, if his believers are to be believed, the most gifted conventional allrounder to arrive on the Australian scene since Alan Davidson half a century ago.

Great teams cherish great allrounders. The two teams generally regarded as Australia's mightiest, the 1921 and 1948 sides, had two apiece: Warwick Armstrong and Jack Gregory, and Keith Miller and Sam Loxton (not to mention Ray Lindwall as a handy back-up). If Watson can turn talent into tons he and Gilchrist could become the equal of those pairs, lending Steve Waugh's Australians a depth and flexibility that the brilliant but largely one-dimensional teams of Ian Chappell, Border and Mark Taylor all lacked.

Timing, ironically for a man whose bat kisses the ball so sweetly, is also against Mark Waugh. The draining nature of the allrounder's dual workload means that they often burn brightest shortest. Theirs is a talent that cannot be mucked about with, or made to bide its time. The time for Watson, with 12 first-class matches behind him, is now.

Border and his selectorial confreres will know all this. They will also know that the most compelling argument of all is the effect Watson's promotion would have on the make-up of Australia's XI. Damien Martyn would rise to his rightful place at No. 4, giving him the chance at last to play the starring role rather than remain the master of dazzling cameos. The team's biggest strength, the luxury of Gilchrist strolling out at No. 7, would be retained. Most significantly, Australia would be able to field an attack of McGrath, Gillespie (or Lee), Watson, Warne and MacGill. Two intelligent fast bowlers, two aggressive legspinners; a more powerful combination, one built for every pitch or contingency, is hard to recall.

This is all desperately tough on Mark Waugh. He has had a poor one-day series to date but that happens. His Test form this summer was mediocre but, with Matthew Hayden and Justin Langer making merry at the top, he was largely surplus to requirements anyway - and the younger Waugh has never had his brother's thirst for hoarding runs during sunny times in case of leaner winters ahead. True to type, his two half-centuries - against New Zealand at Perth and South Africa at Adelaide - were saved for when it mattered most. Yet the only hope for him now is to stockpile runs from the moment he steps off the plane in South Africa, scene of some of his greatest triumphs. The reality is he may not be given even that chance.

That would be sad. That would be more than a trifle unlucky. That, though, would be cricket.

Chris Ryan is managing editor of Wisden Cricket Monthly and a former Darwin correspondent of the Melbourne Age. The Boy Can Play: Shane Watson

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