One of the last great romantic cricket myths to die will be the one that inexorably ties personality to performance on the field.

Of course there is a link between the two and, occasionally, a player can be as cavalier and belligerent on the pitch as off it. Ian Botham comes to mind as a man whose cricket was the perfect expression of his combative nature.

But some cricketers in person are the very antithesis of their on-field selves, a fact which should not surprise us because it is a common enough occurrence, but yet somehow always does, so attached are we to the myth of cricket as expression of personality.

Such a man is the 32-year-old captain of Bangladesh, Habibul Bashar, a softly spoken, giggly, even sheepish man in person, yet a batsman capable of devastating bowling attacks with a deadly combination of cross-bat shots and cultured drives.

Whereas Bashar's demeanour is laid-back and his speech is slow and measured, he bats at 100mph, his scoring rate of nearly 60 in Tests being comparable to that of Brian Lara.

He is easily Bangladesh's best batsman, having scored 2,299 runs in 34 matches at an average of 35, granting him almost god-like status in a country where the next generation of batsmen is struggling to reach averages of 25.

His batting skill earns him the unqualified respect of his young side, and he has led by example by being at the heart of their finest successes. His dashing hundred against the West Indies in May 2004 at St Lucia ensured a memorable draw; is 94 and 55 against Zimbabwe at Chittagong early this year helped Bangladesh to their first win in Tests..

He is an icon in Bangladesh, unable to leave the house without being mobbed by fans, though he claims, in his mild-mannered way, that he enjoys the attention and wouldn't dream of going out in a Tendulkar-patented bearded disguise.

"I enjoy the fact that cricketers get so much respect in Bangladesh," he says. "Everybody says hello and I haven't queued for anything for ages," he giggles, and launches into a story to illustrate the joys of his messianic status.

"I was driving along," he says, mimicking the act of ignoring the road ahead and chatting away. "And I drove straight into a car and smashed it up. It was totally my fault. The driver got out looking very angry, but when he saw me he just said 'oh it's you. Drive carefully next time', and he went away."

He laughs again in his engagingly relaxed way and one imagines that he has an easy manner with his young team that prevents them feeling overwhelmed by pressure, leaving the disciplinary stuff to coach Dav Whatmore, who "does get angry sometimes".

But is he not worried that his team will struggle to adapt to English conditions, opening them to the prospect of a heavy series defeat?

"We have been preparing for a month at Chittagong on green pitches close to English conditions and we've been using English Duke balls," he says. "We've also given ourselves several weeks in England to get used to conditions, so I think we will be ready for the 1st Test."

Relaxed and quietly confident he may be, but when pressed, Bashar suddenly switches on a more earnest and introspective face, and acknowledges the momentous significance of the tour.

"It will be our hardest tour ever. But by the end of it we will be a better team. We're playing against the two best sides in the world so if we can push both and show a lot of fight it will do wonders for the confidence of my team."

He has told his team that, while Lord's is a special place, they must treat that match against England as just another Test. But surely inside every hardened Test cricketer is a dewy-eyed romanticism about the home of cricket?

He gets very serious now, as he admits: "Personally, yes, I would love to score a hundred at Lord's. That would be beautiful."

25 May, 2005