An active green

We arrive at the Wankhede Stadium just in time to see Sachin Tendulkar bowl a huge outswinger to Rahul Dravid in the nets. There is a collective gasp in the crowd as he misses it. Tendulkar adjusts his silver bracelet, turns on his heel and prepares to bowl again. He beats Dravid with a similar delivery. The crowd's gasp is less muted, and someone yells, "C'mon Sachin!" The third time it happens, there is an uneasy silence.

The sky is a light grey, and the early cool breeze has made way for a hot and sticky late morning. But nothing causes more discomfort than the sight of a part-timer beating the edge of India's most reliable bat ... repeatedly. Dravid is more assured against the others, and middled strokes against Zaheer Khan and Ashish Nehra probably calm him somewhat. In the next net, VVS Laxman is in the middle of an extended session against Harbhajan Singh and Anil Kumble, who seem faster on television. Both batsmen practise blocking and leaving. Young local bowlers mill around, awaiting their chance to bowl.

A look around the stadium reveals that the most vibrant colours - the neon yellows, the burning reds - come from the hoardings. Behind them, the stands are faded. Only the deep-blue wooden seating of the Sachin Tendulkar Stand seems newly painted. Iron fences surround the perimeter, and these too, have seen better days. The Wankhede is not a structure that lives on its own. It's too grey for that. It needs people breathing, screaming, running around to bring it to life, to bring it colour. Tomorrow will be very different.

Nets are quickly set up on the other side of the ground, and Travelex posters are stuck up. There is a tremble in the crowd, and they hesitate briefly before leap-frogging over partitions from one stand to another, until they reach the one closest to the Australian nets. Nathan Hauritz gets his eye in against Cameron White and an assortment of eager local bowlers. He hits the ball hard, prompting the grass-pickers to scatter frequently. On one occasion he hits it so high that no-one knows where it's going to come down, and a cry of "Watch out!" spreads so rapidly that everyone on one quarter of the ground crouches, shielding themselves from the ball.

"Some people think he's lucky to be here," says an Australian beside me. Hauritz hits another one cleanly. "Cameron White is Shane Warne's successor. He'll come back to India when he's 26. At the moment his batting is better than his bowling." The man turns out to be a scorer coming out of retirement. It's his first tour here. We talk a while, but stop to watch the photographer Hamish Blair take some pictures of Bob Merriman and a little kid.

Everywhere you look, someone is preparing for something or other. The police discuss strategies, shaking their walkie-talkies at different parts of the ground. Men gabble into headsets and adjust enormous cameras. Polly Umrigar, who's in charge of the pitch itself, is on his precious track, pointing and talking animatedly - and the officials nod so vigorously that you can see it from the stands. The pitch is the main pre-match talking point, but the curator, Mr Roy, insists he doesn't know what all the fuss is about. "It'll last five days." That's all you need to know, he says. "It has got sufficient grass to last for five days."

What about the talk of including three spinners and all that? The curator stands by his earlier prediction. "After reading the wicket in their own way, it is their headache, not the curator's headache."

As the sun sets on Mumbai, the painters apply the finishing touches to the white pitch lines and the big corporate logos on the outfield. The floodlights are switched on, and a weird white haze lights up the sky. Long red cushions are placed on wooden benches on the F and G blocks, where former cricketers and umpires and other distinguished guests will watch the action from behind the bowler's arm over the next five days.

Groundsmen dressed in khaki drag out tarpaulins and place them over the pitch, as well as alongside it. But there's plenty of finishing up to do, and the mower has a long night ahead. The writers have left, and the fans are long gone. But the men and women who make it happen are still here. Even before the action begins tomorrow morning, it's an active green.