A sense of something like summer prevailed as Dane Paterson bustled towards the bowling crease early on a sunny, juicy, almost warm afternoon on Friday. The batter tapped the pitch and waited … tapped and waited … tapped and waited … and was soundly beaten outside his off stump.
The delivery did not go on to smack into the wicketkeeper's gloves. Because there was no wicketkeeper. There was only a net, which sneered snidely as it was billowed by the ball. The batter was Tristan Stubbs, who turned around, picked up the ball, and underarmed it unfussed back to Paterson.
The weather was perfect for cricket, but the last day of South Africa's four-day match against Zimbabwe had been abandoned in its entirety an hour earlier. A deluge an hour before that, which came down properly on top of bouts of rain that had rendered two of the previous three days depressingly drippy and bereft of cricket, forced that decision.
South Africa are going into the WTC final against Australia at Lord's on Wednesday, and the spectre of a turned ankle – or worse – because of a slippery outfield loomed like Marco Jansen in a dark alley.
So the game was called off and, instead, the South Africans trained in nets erected on the field. Jansen loomed after all, along with Kagiso Rabada, Wiaan Mulder, Corbin Bosch and Lungi Ngidi, but their fire was friendly – although Jansen did boom a bouncer over Temba Bavuma's head. Tony de Zorzi shouldered arms to Bosch, and had his middle stump knocked off kilter. As David Bedingham walked towards a net, he was greeted with a not entirely docile, "Ready to face some bowling, motherf****r?"
The Zimbabweans were not so inclined. Having done their bit to help their southern neighbours prepare for the final, they sidled into the sunshine looking forward to a few beers and packing for the long trip home on Saturday.
But, with play in the match limited to a total of 90 overs by the weather and its consequences, they had been able to observe Bavuma's men at close quarters while they were holed up in the pavilion together waiting for the skies to clear.
The report from the Zimbabwean side of the dressing room divide was of an impressively united, organised squad. "They're so tight," one of the Zimbos said, speaking casually. "They play cards together for hours, and you can see there's clarity about how they do things. They're doing this properly."
Doing what, exactly?
"It's basically planning," Piet Botha told reporters on the boundary as the net session ensued. Before he spoke, Shukri Conrad, keen to have his bowling coach back, tapped his watch and said, "No more than five minutes." Clearly, a strict schedule was also part of the plan.
"We haven't played a Test match for six months, and because our players are all over the world it can be complicated in terms of planning," Botha said. "We did a lot of stuff before we came to England, and we're backing that up with plans for each individual around specific situations – old ball, new ball, that type of stuff. But it's not like we pre-plan everything. We also leave room for in-the-moment stuff."
Considering his bowlers had been able to send down only 11 overs at Arundel, and that none of them had more than four overs, was Botha satisfied that his charges had been able to get through enough of "that type of stuff"?
"We've done it. Now the main thing is about getting the players mentally prepared. It was a pity about this week; we could have spent more time in the middle. But you deal with it, which is also part of the mental prep."
Did Botha agree with the Zimbabweans' assessment of the South Africans?
"Yeah. The guys are themselves. I think that's coach Shukri's whole philosophy – to get people to be themselves. I think they're in a good space to perform."
Conrad and his staff will have help on Monday, when Stuart Broad – whose 153 wickets against Australia is more than any other England bowler has taken – shares a meal and attends nets for an unpaid hour.
"Maybe he will have one or two new ideas," Botha said. "England have played against Australia a lot, and against them at Lord's a lot. That's probably the type of stuff we can get from him; a mental approach on how to play against Australia. Because they're known as a confident team."
Some of that confidence will doubtless be directed, verbally, towards Rabada, who will play his first international since serving a one-month ban for cocaine use. Understandably, that had caused a palaver in the press and in public circles. Was Rabada's head in the right place for the challenge?
"He's a strong personality; he's 100% fine," Botha said. "He's had a good structure around him and people who have helped him and supported him. That's all you can ask for."
As you might have gathered, Botha is a solid rather than a spectacular figure. He never played for South Africa, but he was a dependable allrounder in 118 first-class matches in which he scored five centuries and 25 fifties and took 217 wickets at 27.77.
There was a fastidiousness about him as a player that extended to quibbling with scorers over leg byes from deliveries he was adamant he had hit. They were his runs, he argued, and he wanted them duly noted.
But there was a romantic in there somewhere: "As a small boy you think about and want to be involved in Test cricket. And then you want to play against Australia and you want to play at Lord's. And then suddenly it happens all at once. It's very exciting and it does bring a few nerves because it's big. It's also awesome."
It is. And this part of it was over. "Shukri," one of the reporters called out, holding up the phone he had used to record the interaction, "Four minutes and 33 seconds." Conrad's reply was as sharp as it was quick: "I was about to say you've got 27 seconds left."
Tight. Organised. But also sharp. And fun. That type of stuff.
