Tendulkar - the main threat to Australia (Getty Images)

Phew. After 42 mostly rain-affected days and 51 mostly one-sided matches, the final of this disappointing 2003 Cricket World Cup gets a classic match-up.

On Sunday, or Monday if the rainy season continues to deliver, the world's best batsman will attempt to halt the world's best team.

In the blue corner, we have Sachin Tendulkar, standing at barely five foot with a bank account stacked higher than the Beckhams.

In the yellow corner, Australia, unbeaten for a record 16 games and winners over India by a massive nine wickets earlier in this very tournament.

Make no mistake, the Little Master will be the popular choice today.

South Africans, gutted at the poor performance of their own Proteas, will be backing India.

The locals hate Australian sportsmen nearly as much as we loathe French politicians.

The Australians have travelling support, but their cutesy Koala Army is nowhere near as numerous or noisy as England's Barmy Army.

And Indian fans, their ranks swelled by hundreds of travelling British Asians from Birmingham to Bolton, will have no problem winning the noise war.

But they'll be backing the outsiders in a tournament dominated from start to finish by the holders from Down Under, who crushed Pakistan in the 1999 final at Lord's.

The only side to get close to Ricky Ponting's men? That would be England, beaten by a mere two wickets with three balls remaining at Port Elizabeth on March 2 in their final Pool A encounter.

Sadly, like New Zealand, Nasser Hussain's men fell victim to the politics which have dogged this tournament.

We boycotted Zimbabwe and the Kiwis chose not to play in Kenya.

As a result the only two sides capable of derailing the Aussie express fell far too early.

South Africa and the West Indies were undone by the weather - hopefully the Men from the Caribbean will build in reserve days and scrap the Duckworth Lewis system for their World Cup in 2007 - while Pakistan simply self-destructed.

In the end, Sri Lanka and African upstarts Kenya, the only success story at this glum gathering, contested two one-sided, boring semi-finals.

Which is why, at the Wanderers, known locally as the Bull Ring, cricket-lovers must pray for a close-run final.

Only the very first encounter of this dismal gathering of cricket-speaking powers - a thriller which saw the West Indies shock the hosts by three runs - has brought the crowd to its feet.

Oh, and there was that England game against Australia too.

But that should never have been close.

With Australia eight down and still needing 80 to win, we were one Darren Gough over short of a victory which might have swept our brave boys to the final.

But no.

As has been the way in all World Cups since Geoff Hurst, England blew it at the death, forcing young Jimmy Anderson to bowl the penultimate over instead of the experienced Andy Caddick.

So now we must rely on the Little Master to undermine the arrogant Australians.

The problem is, these pesky Aussies bat all the way down to their lanky last man Glenn McGrath and even without dopey Shane Warne and dizzy Jason Gillespie they boast the world's best bowling attack.

And have you seen them in the field? Awesome. You can't appreciate fielding until you've seen the Mean Machine in action.

India have none of those traits.

Sure, their seam trio of Javagal Srinath, Zaheer Khan and young Nehra has shocked us all (including a bemused England under lights in Durban, their own press corps could hardly believe how well they bowled) and captain Saurav Ganguly is starting to score runs alongside Tendulkar.

At the start of this tournament when they lost to the Aussies and struggled against the minnows, they actually had a mock funeral for Ganguly in Calcutta, his home town.

Now, after a two tons and an undefeated 111 in the semi against Kenya on Thursday, he's a hero again.

Nobody dares to mention he only scores runs against minnows.

It is Tendulkar, scorer of a record 669 runs in 10 knocks here, in whom a nation of 500 million have put their trust.

Anything less than a fiery run-a-ball 50 from the little man and Australia will be taking the World Cup back to that mythical trophy cupboard, piled high with Ashes urns.

And nobody, I said, nobody, wants to see that!