When he reached the top of his bowling mark, Allan Donald would turn around,narrow his eyes and throw a piercing glare at the batsman getting ready to facehim. He would then bend forward just a tad and start running, from side-on,resembling a horse in stride. As the canter turned into a gallop, his face,smeared with zinc cream for protection against the sun and dramatic effect,would contort, accentuating the cheekbones on his lean face. As he arrived atthe wicket, he would leap high, as if to surmount a hurdle in a dressage.Suspended in mid-air, time would pause, for a spell short enough not to breakthe delivery motion but long enough to remind the batsman, and us, of the showof hostility coming. Still with both feet off the ground, he would slip in asecond look to the batsman, and cock his wrist. The feet would land with a thudand the arm would hurl a hard, round ball like a guided missile.