By BBC News Online's Thrasy Petropoulos

Centurion Park is by far the most bizarre of all the Test match venues in South Africa - a half-purpose-built stadium devoid of all charm or character.

Its half-reclining grass banks encourage would-be chefs to poke away at improbably-sized sausages on barbecues, while scantily-clad young ladies to laze away the afternoon - when it isn't raining, that is.

England know better than most of the ground's duel existence.

When they have not been pulling out their hair through boredom at watching the rain fall, they have been hugging each other with delight at their unexpected good fortune.

But the scenes on Wednesday evening were not quite those which accompanied the whoops of excitement after the Test side's victory last month.

They were a mixture of relief and satisfaction that the final group game in the triangular series had been rained off.

England had squeezed past Zimbabwe on net run-rate (0.08 of whatever it is net run-rates are measured by) and into Saturday's final against South Africa, despite having won only two games in six.

Even before the rain had started to fall over the Johannesburg area three days ago, it seemed inevitable that the weather would once again intervene at Centurion.

In two Tests involving England at the ground not much more than three days' cricket has been possible.

That of course includes England's gleeful acceptance of Hansie Cronje's generous offer of 249 in 76 overs during the historic one-innings final Test on this tour.

And while England might be congratulating themselves on having reached the final, they should acknowledge that Zimbabwe had comfortably the highest net run-rate of the three teams before their thrashing by South Africa last week.

In the two games between Zimbabwe and England, the Zimbos have the superior record.

It is also worth remembering the climate in which the game on Wednesday was due to be played.

Already dozens had lost their lives in floods and collapsed buildings in the north of the country.

The river running alongside Alexandra - the densely populated township on the outskirts of Johannesburg - had burst its banks threatening disease and destruction in a community of tin huts which pass for houses.

And there were moves to declare Kruger National Park an official disaster zone.

When all that is considered, a cricket match seems rather insignificant.

However both teams had little option but to play a waiting game during successive inspections by the umpires.

These concluded that, despite an afternoon of dry weather, some areas inside the fielding restriction were too damp to risk playing on.

Ironically, it could have been the fault of water dripping off a marquee erected over the wicket the previous day to keep the playing surface dry.

The two sides' body language was fascinating, considering their relattive positions.

Nasser Hussain and Duncan Fletcher, on the rare occasions that they emerged from the dressing room, dragged themselves around the ground as if they were wading through golden syrup.

The Zimbos, ever keen to give the impression that outfield was bone dry and conditions playable, were as sprightly as springboks.

Once again Centurion was the scene of some mysterious by-play: apparently half swamp,half desert.

And good old English syrup won the day.