Drop me if you dare, says Australia's new legend

When they sit down to do business next, the quartet will not be able to keep out a flood of memories. Trevor Hohns, Andrew Hilditch, Allan Border and David Boon must have what seem like the least enviable jobs on the planet. The four have to decide whether Steve Waugh is still good enough to play Test cricket for Australia.

And they are being dared to answer in the negative by the man who conjured up one of the most magical days' Test cricket in a long time. If they choose to drop Waugh, they will be seen to be sullying an international icon, they will be blamed for robbing Australian cricket of a national treasure. The word blasphemy will be close to the lips of cricket fans around the world.

When he walked out to bat, Steve Waugh did not just have the English bowlers to take on. He had done that for more years than many of the aforementioned cricketers would care to remember. But he also walked out to waves of rapturous applause from a packed house at the Sydney Cricket Ground that has seen more centuries than noughts from its heroes. It was almost as though Waugh loomed larger than life.

With intense media scrutiny, public debate and the most microscopic selectoral eye following his every move, the elder Waugh was almost back to where he began, when he walked out to bat at that other stage, the Melbourne Cricket Ground, against India, in 1985-86. It was as if he were an unknown quantity once more. There was loose talk that the man making a record 156th Test appearance for Australia had to prove himself.

With Australia under pressure at 56/3, the stage was set for England to further their advantage in the game. Nasser Hussain licked his lips at the prospect of avoiding a 5-0 whitewash. Matty Hayden, Justin Langer and Ricky Ponting were all back in the hut. Andy Caddick was thumping his chest, getting the ball to sing and finally threatening to give back as good as he'd got all series.

All this and more appeared to go through Steve Waugh's tougher-than-nails mind as he half sprinted out to the middle. Sachin Tendulkar speaks of a `zone' he gets into when batting, where the sounds of the crowd are shut out with the intense concentration of playing the next ball. Whether the deafening roar of the fans was wasted on Waugh, we will never know.

What we do know, thank heavens, is what happened next. Moving back and across, head stiller than a marksman assessing his target, weight transferring seamlessly to the back foot, Waugh dismissively sent a ball scurrying to the fence backward of square leg. He adjusted his pads, composed himself and began to work the ball into the gaps. From simply nudging, the so-called Ice Man quickly graduated to punching holes in the off side field. The power came more from a strength of character than musculature. The placement came from a need to take control of the situation and the will - where did that come from?

Certainly not from the need to reach 69 runs, the mark that would see him join Sunil Gavaskar and Allan Border, in cricket's most elite club. But big as it may seem to every cricketer who has held a bat at the highest level, the mere lure of scoring 10,000 Test runs could not have spurred the 37-year old to what happened on the day.

Of course, the mark was crossed. Of course, Australia had clawed their way back from the brink. Of course the pressure was almost back on England. All that was virtually guaranteed with Steve Waugh on a crusade.

What happened on the last ball of the day, however, was not quite as simple. More toughness than panache, more utility than entertainment, Steve Waugh is not the sort to play to the gallery, going for the big hit to reach a milestone. He would rather see off the last over safely and start afresh on the next day.

That might have been true, on another day.

This, though, was Steve Waugh's day. When the fourth ball of the final over - a flat one from Richard Dawson, was squeezed to cover for three, a collective sigh of disappointment escaped the lips of spectators at the SCG. Adam Gilchrist, alert as ever to the occasion, clipped one through midwicket to hand the stage back to Waugh for the final ball of the day.

Hussain took his time arranging his field, bringing men close to the bat to increase the pressure. As he went up to speak to his spinner, much in the same way as Ian Healy spoke to Shane Warne before the last ball of the day, a nervous smile creased his face. There was no doubting it. A lesser man would have been swayed. But Waugh drove inside out through the off-side, made sure the century was his and punched the air, smiling to himself. Yes indeed, Steve Waugh smiling on a cricket field. Sir Donald Bradman's tally of 29 Test tons had been equalled. The final moment was the sort of climax that only Waugh deserved.

And yes, this certainly makes it harder for the selectors to drop Steve Waugh. Several former cricketers and journalists are already talking as though Waugh is playing in his last Test. He's too old, they say. Too suspect against short pitched bowling. Not the quickest on the field, they say.

But what will the Hohns-led quartet have on the top of their minds when they have to make the choice that will decide Steve Waugh's future? Well, David Boon wont need to look much further than the four lines he had the honour of singing in the Australian dressing room at every victory that Steve Waugh led his side to...

Under the Southern Cross I stand
A sprig of wattle in my hand
A native of our native land
Australia, Australia, you [expletive deleted] beauty

And you can't help feeling that Steve Waugh will be on a plane to the West Indies. And leave the game when he chooses to do so.