From the bloke trying to erect the MTN advertising blimp to the wee chap running around the ground to straighten the boundary ropes, officials vast and varied scurry about as the third one-dayer between the Saffers and the Aussies draws near.

The grass embankment is brimming with picnic blankets, deck chairs, people tripping over people and vendors selling refreshments, chocolates, chips and the like.

The increasing number gathering at the Railway Stand bask in their shadowed haven, away from the scorching Cape Town sun, while the masses seated at the Wynberg End don sunscreen, sunglasses and caps, awaiting their shaded turn as the daylight progresses.

Neil Johnson and Greg Blewett spill their respective allegiances with their made-for-TV analysis, the former hailing attacking Graeme Smith as instrumental for the hosts and the latter looking for Mitchell Johnson to be used in short, penetrative bursts.

Robin Jackman, Darryl Cullinan and Mark Nicholas share a laugh on their way to the commentary box, perhaps pondering the merits of eventuality; Smith has finally won a toss.

Smith and Ricky Ponting hastily exchange pleasantries; no babyface Ben Laughlin today, instead unshaven, near unkempt Brett Geeves. The Proteas don't mess with their winning formula. Wayne Parnell stays. Morne Morkel is stuck with the drinks.

The droves of South African flags generously handed out (for free, amidst an apparent economic crisis!) by the CSA fly in collective pride as the home nations' beloved national anthems ring out through the PA system. The rivals line up and force a hackneyed sentence or two, while the fans utter a couple of mumbled lyrics of their own. It all seems rather obligatory, than devout.

Blewett and Johnson's theories are out the window, Smith has fallen after floundering his way to eight runs and Johnson has finished half of his 10-over allotment in one go.

Metrorail's graffiti-riddled finest careens past en route to the city centre as Gibbs follows Smith, holing out at midwicket after a host of flails over the off-side go unrewarded.

Jacques Kallis and AB de Villiers' stand steps it up a gear as James Hopes and Nathan Hauritz' penchant for pegging back the run-rate falters.

The comedic ice-cream and drinks pedlars distract one's attention from the exciting passage of play. "A lolly to make you jolly, some chips to fatten your hips or a Fanta direct from Santa," they bellow in unison.

Hometown hero 'Jakes' heads back to the pavilion in the wake of another splendid half-ton, making way for fellow Capetonian JP Duminy's stride out to the middle. Scraggly Geeves has a scalp and the tourists are back in the hunt.

Meanwhile, some brave souls camped under the secondary scoreboard attempt to spark a Mexican Wave.

Their efforts are varied; the occasion is young and many a choice beverage not yet consumed.

Ah yes, just another wonderful, whimsical day at Newlands...