Golden balls and coat-hangers

At the architectural centre of Sydney Harbour is a bridge lovingly referred to as the coat-hanger. Originally built as a means of connecting the northern and southern suburbs, today this black steel giant serves many functions. You can walk across it. You can traverse it in buses and trains. If you're brave enough, you can even climb it. At times of significance, the bridge also acts as prime-position advertising space.

On New Year's Eve 1999, the word "Eternity" was emblazoned across the central span. During the 2000 Olympics, it hosted the five intersecting rings. Right now, it's the turn of a giant golden rugby ball. The second Test between Australia and Zimbabwe may have been about to start at the Sydney Cricket Ground, but this city is currently geared towards rugby, rugby and more rugby.

Mention cricket to those wandering around the shops and restaurants of Darling Harbour, and you're met with at best confusion, at worst derision. This waterside precinct is the spiritual home of rugby, complete with merchandising stalls, sponsorship promotions, and more bars with more wide-screen TVs than you can poke a scrum-half at.

As far as most of the tourists were concerned, cricket was not the most well-known of sports. "I've heard of the game," said Ulrich from Argentina. "It's like baseball, only slower, isn't it?" In the middle of buying a rugby T-shirt for his wife, Ulrich couldn't be convinced that a trip to the SCG was worth the effort. "No thank you," he said. "I like my games fast and over in a couple of hours."

And many others shared Ulrich's sentiments. On the first day, they stayed away in their droves. Half the stadium was closed, because of a lack of interest. As the first ball was bowled, the attendance was less than 2000. Those looking for first-day Test atmosphere were disappointed. "It's a pathetic effort," said Luke from Melbourne. "This is international sport and there's no-one here." Luke, who has followed Australian cricket around the globe, arrived early, positioned his stuffed toys on the fence, and was ready for a big day. So were the ground personnel.

"This is the official anti-stalking kit," explained Andrew, one of the security guards, displaying some large white plastic sheeting. "If a naked intruder makes it onto the ground, I cover him - or her - in this, and escort him - or her - from the field." Neither Andrew's security prowess, or his kit's effectiveness, was tested throughout the day.

Perhaps potential streakers found the cold conditions too intimidating, or maybe they were all just too busy enjoying the rugby at Darling Harbour. Whatever the reasons, Andrew sat for the entire day in front of a closed Bill O'Reilly Stand, and was untroubled by disruptions of any kind. "I've been told to sit here, so this is where I'll stay," he said at lunch. "At least I've got to watch uninterrupted cricket."

During the tea-break, excitement was provided for the crowd in the form of the Fan Of The Day competition. Owing more to clever marketing than sport-inspired spontaneity, the sponsors employed a merry band of fan-spotters. The girls, clad in white mini-skirts and cowboy hats, wandered the stands looking for possible candidates. Usually the final choices fall heavily on the side of quirk, but today, the spotters were happy to find anyone who had bothered to dress up for the occasion at all. In the end, the lucky three were an Irishman who'd adopted the guise of St Patrick, a bloke who'd wrapped himself in a Zimbabwe flag, and five local lads who had donned Hawaiian shirts.

To no-one's great surprise, the winner was St Patrick. After all, he'd gone to the effort of gluing together a bishop's mitre, complete with cross and silver glitter. "I've actually come for the rugby," said the Irishman, enjoying his five minutes of fame. "But it's great to be here at the SCG watching the cricket." He proceeded to treat the fans to a quick verse of Danny Boy before the master of ceremonies wrestled back the microphone. The Hawaiian boys managed a creditable line-out, before the girls escorted them from the field and the Zimbabwe fan performed a decent forward roll.

By stumps only 5455 had made it through the turnstiles. "By Sydney standards that's dreadful," said Luke, packing away his flag and stuffed toys. "Hopefully more will come tomorrow." Presumably Andrew was hoping the same thing: what's the point of an anti-streaker kit if it stays in the bag?