South Africa still chasing elusive pot of gold

The rainbow nation was a cheerless grey yesterday. It will not regain its brightness in a hurry. There was a sense of confused disbelief that South Africa had been eliminated from their own World Cup by a combination of rain and cock-up, but the mood went way beyond mere exit from a sporting contest.

For five years, South Africa had planned this tournament meticulously. It was to be the biggest, best Cricket World Cup of them all but it also demanded the triumph of the host nation.

There was a Messianic fervour about the whole thing. It was tied up with destiny. But this was about more than sport. It was about a new, proud nation finding a little more of itself.

Their team's dismissal at the first stage is an immense setback not only for the cricketers but for the society in which the game is played. As Gerald Majola, the chief executive officer of the United Cricket Board said: "We're disappointed for the nation and the tournament. Of course, we'll go back to the drawing board and start again."

Majola's meaning is not difficult to infer. The South African side have been operating on a knife edge for years, partly because they are still haunted by the ghost of Hansie Cronje, their former captain. Cronje was the national icon who turned out to be a match-fixer on the take from Indian bookies. He died in a plane crash last year but rather than bring closure to the affair it merely gave it new and eerier life.

In addition to that, to try to redress the balance of apartheid, it is now decreed that all national teams will have a quota of black players. To outsiders, it might be seen as the only way but it has created friction and mistrust on all sides.

If South Africa had won the World Cup, the boat in which they are travelling would have remained unrocked. Now there could be hell to pay. The rush to get black players in the team may pick up pace. There is a view abroad that if the white players cannot do it then the black players should be given greater opportunities immediately.

But this will be in the fall-out. For now, there is the process of coming to terms with the blow to their esteem. The team were patently not as good as they were supposed to be. Too many big names under-performed.

But the manner of their elimination was as farcical as it was dramatic. South Africa have always been at the forefront of technical innovation, pioneering the use of sophisticated video techniques to help coach players and advocating radio contact via ear-pieces with players on the field.

Here, they were found wanting for a simple piece of paper. Mark Boucher was relying on information from the dressing room, which turned out to be dud, as he indulged in a frantic run chase to try to take the side into the Super Sixes.

Sri Lanka had scored 268, South Africa were refusing to go quietly. Boucher was informed he needed 13 from the 45th over under the Duckworth-Lewis method which applies in rain-affected matches and acquired them with a six off the fifth ball. He punched the air and declined a run off the sixth.

But he should have carried his own chart which other teams have done for years. Or simpler still the digital scoreboards could have carried the information as they do everywhere else.

This is huge blow to South Africa. The incredulity is heightened by what happened to them in previous tournaments: rain interruption and an archaic adjustment method left them needing 22 off one ball in 1992, they lost a place in the final after a last ball run-out and a tie in 1999. For them the Cricket World Cup still lies somewhere over the rainbow.