I wonder if I have had a stranger evening than that of June 17, 1999, when Basil Fawlty and I discussed a cricket match while I gazed forlornly at the Indian Ocean rolling up on North Beach, as it had for millions of years. Dispassionate waves doing what they have always done, stoically uncaring about the drama that had just unfolded on television screens at Jo Kools, the Durban beachfront bar and restaurant. For those who watched the World Cup Proteass semi-final tie against Australia at Edgbaston, the final moments are inerasable. You can’t un-watch Alan Donald failing to hear Lance Klusener’s call for a run to win the game, then attempting the run, dropping his bat, and being run out....
