All eyes on the big one

Sweet, sweet memories you gave-a-me
You can't beat the memories you gave-a-me
- Dean Martin

Clive Lloyd in the 1975 final at Lord's, using his bat like a cudgel to beat the best of Australian bowling into the mesmerised crowd. Oh Hubert! What a day you gave us wide-eyed whippersnappers. Then the climax, in fast-fading light, when West Indian fans who thought the match was won invaded the field, only to be hurried away by Dickie Bird while Dennis Lillee and Jeff Thomson ran up and down the 22 yards of Lord's turf as if their life depended upon it. The match had begun at 11 in the morning and did not finish until a quarter to nine at night. The legend of the World Cup was born.

Four years later it was King Viv and Collis King who flayed the English attack. Geoffrey Boycott bowled in his cap and Wayne Larkins bowled through his embarrassment. Mike Brearley sure got that selection wrong, as England's shorn attack were put back in the box after a promising start. As if the total of 286 was not enough, Joel Garner closed out the big day with an exhibition of yorkers hitherto unseen.

We were still at Lord's in 1983 when Mohinder Amarnath played the lead role of David as Viv Richards' collection of Goliaths were brought down to earth with the most almighty crash. You could smell the cordite and the curry powder in the night air as London became Mumbai and Chennai and everywhere in between for one glorious celebration of all things Indian.

To Calcutta now, for Mike Gatting's reverse sweep and the first true sign of Allan Border's age of regeneration. Some of the names meant very little prior to that remarkable day - Dyer, Veletta, O'Donnell and May, for example - but they were to carve a place for themselves in the folklore of Australian cricket. November 8th 1987, Australia win the World Cup for the first time.

Moving on, to the cinematic images of the Great Southern Land. To night moves and floodlighting; to white balls and coloured clothing; to South Africa's return from more than 20 years in isolation, and to Graham Gooch's third crack at winning a final. Sir Ian will tell you that England were the best team and Imran Khan, Beefy's old bête noir, will tell you otherwise. From that sparkling night in Melbourne came the legend of Wasim Akram and the cancer hospital that Imran built. It is 23 years ago now and the Lion of Lahore is on the brink of something even more astonishing. He could be PM soon.

There is a little isle, just off the south-east coast of India, where people smile great big welcome smiles and let the hours drift by in streets and fields with bat and ball in hand. Here the Davids are smaller than David, and in the 1996 final the Goliaths - Australia - were every bit as intimidating as West Indies had been in 1983. But a portly fellow with a fine brain and a bit of attitude had foreseen a great triumph and planned a great assault. The sight of Arjuna Ranatunga on the winners podium in Lahore, surrounded by movers and shakers and pushers and shovers, and Ian Chappell from the WorldTel broadcast company and Benazir Bhutto, the prime minister of Pakistan, was a sight for the sorest eyes. Of all World Cup wins - even India's in 1983 - this was the greatest and most romantic heist. Bravo, Arjuna. You knew it was meant to be.

Wasim Akram's legend took a thumping in London three years later, when on a damp and grey morning, after a delay to the start of play, he won the toss and chose to bat. Wasim, honestly! What were you thinking? Look up to the sky at Lord's, as well as down to the pitch, when you win the toss. Mind you, he could have looked any place and come to the same obvious conclusion. But he didn't. So Australia won the first of three World Cups on the bounce. Thanks, Herschelle (remember the crucial dropped catch in the Super Sixes at Headingley?); thanks AD and Lance (remember the last over of the semi-final at Edgbaston?); and thanks Waz. Mind you, Shane Warne deserved this trophy on his CV. He turned that epic semi-final on its head.

We are into a new millennium now. South Africa staged the tournament just nine years after Nelson Mandela had become president of the new republic and just seven after the constitution had been rewritten for all. But the South African cricketers had none of Mandela's nous to hand when rain affected their crucial qualifying match against Sri Lanka in Durban. Bizarrely, they misunderstood the Duckworth-Lewis system and tied a Super Six group match they needed to win. It was laughable really, and coming on the back of the 1999 semi-final, allowed the c-word its place in the inquisition. Meanwhile, Ricky Ponting blew India out of the Wanderers in the final after Sourav Ganguly invited him to bat first. What is it with these captains?!

In 2007, the Caribbean should have provided the finest cricket carnival of them all. But no. Far from it. Stultifying security, third-world communications and transport, barely built stadiums and skyrocket ticket prices combined to rid the days of joy. Locals were barely seen, foreigners were barely pleased, and the ICC made a fool of itself from day one at the opening ceremony to the witching hour, when the last throes of the final were played out in near darkness, with clueless umpires, unsure of the Duckworth-Lewis calculation, directing the showpiece into an act of farce. Still, no one could deny a superb Australian team that dominated every match it played. And in the final at the Kensington Oval, no Sri Lankan could deny Adam Gilchrist, who played an innings every bit as brilliant and destructive as the one played by Ponting four years previously.

And so to modern India. To Sachin's dream and Dhoni's miracle. The uber-cool Indian captain admitted to extreme pressure in the months before the event and then double that during the weeks - so much that it totally consumed more than a billion people. The Cup was their destiny, they told him, and he could not fail them. In a moment of staggering judgement, courage and sheer bravado, he promoted himself up the order to get the job done. The card says he scored an unbeaten 91 from 79 balls in the 2011 World Cup final. With four to win, he smoked Nuwan Kulusekara into the stands at long-on to trigger delirious scenes of celebration. Given the moment, MS Dhoni played the greatest World Cup innings of all.

Whose magic will make the memories this time? Can these brazen Australians match the tales of World Cups past by writing a triumphant script of their own? Have South Africa rid themselves of the curse? Are New Zealand able to maintain their presently high standards of integrity and performance, come the sharp end of the tournament?

Certainly Australia look strong. Batsmen are in form and bowlers appear to have understood the disciplines required for each stage of the innings. Mike Young is back to inspire the fielding, and with that comes a valuable sense of worth.

Increasingly, international teams are winning at home but this may be because jaded tourists approach series underprepared. Only two venues - Brisbane and Perth - give Australia an obvious advantage because of the extra bounce in the pitches, but given the opponents there are Bangladesh and Afghanistan respectively, we can say the advantage is irrelevant. In truth, such is the scheduling these days that few teams will be surprised by the conditions around this vast and often challenging land.

All the clichés apply. Two new balls must be handled with care; Powerplays have become banana skins; the last ten overs, with only four fielders outside the circle, provide a marvellous opportunity for acceleration, thus it will be prudent to have wickets intact.

Certainly, David Warner and Aaron Finch have the ideal attributes to give Australia blistering starts. The question for them will be, how hard should they go against the better new-ball attacks? Should they be ripped out early, will the middle order cope? It is here that question marks might apply.

Shane Watson appears ill at ease. Steven Smith's form has been so extraordinary that one wonders if it can continue. The national hamstring (reference Michael Clarke) is a lingering uncertainty both of fitness and form. George Bailey is treading water. Glenn Maxwell will seem less of an ogre against the moving ball - not that the ball seems to do that much any more. Mitchell Marsh is a fledgling, all muscle and magnificence so far, but what lies beneath? Brad Haddin is an enigmatic one-day cricketer but a spectacular talent to bat so low as seven. Will James Faulkner be fit? And so on. Those who have to meet Australia will examine these cricketers with a rather more acute eye than the one with which India have been blinking these past three months.

No specialist spinner either. Does that matter much in Australia? In New Zealand, yes, but Australia, not really. A number of teams have missed a trick not including a wristspinner in their number. With the two new balls on these hard pitches, the extra bounce that comes from the overspin would have been handy. It is clear that Australia have put their faith in pace, which makes the exclusion of Ryan Harris rather odd. He need only have played the big games, say five or six of the nine required to win the tournament. That is 50 or 60 overs' bowling in six weeks. Not so arduous as it must have looked from afar. He now regrets not pushing his case.

Nonetheless, Australia start as favourites. It is a good team, in good form, with a fine captain - assuming the hamstring, of course. But I predict a slip somewhere and maybe a fall. Don't know why, just do. I've had a punt on South Africa. For me, it is AB de Villiers, Hashim Amla and Dale Steyn who will leave us with the sweet and lasting memories of a final well won. And if not, then perhaps Brendon McCullum, Ross Taylor and Daniel Vettori. Again, don't know really know why. Guess it's in the bones.

I just hope for a magnificent tournament, displaying the best of cricket's myriad attractions and the best of the players' wit and humility. I hope that England have a good run at it because Eoin Morgan is a terrific bloke and the World Cup humiliations have become unbearable. By the way, if I lose the bet and the favourites get up in their own backyard, that will be splendid too. Australia's national identity is steeped in cricket, so imagine the party. And the memories.