From the moment he takes centre stage at the pre-1st Test press conference, Kevin Pietersen exerts a magnetic pull like no other current England player.

Of course it helps being 6ft 4in tall and outrageously talented, but you still need to know how to make an entrance. Steve Harmison is just as willowy and a pretty special talent, but he shuffles shyly into his seat.

And "Banger" Trescothick may be a powerhouse opener, but he turns up early like a good boy, and spouts well-rehearsed answers in a monotone. Pietersen's entrance is altogether different. He swaggers confidently into the room, jaw jutting defiantly, then declares that all the hacks must wait while he reads about himself in the paper.

Dictaphones record his breathing as he nods approvingly at the article's praise. Pressed to begin, he demands another minute, then declares: "OK. I'm ready." But he is not yet finished with showing the collective media XI who is boss.

When one daring reporter agrees with "KP" that it's hard to get freebie tickets for the Tests, he blasts back: "I don't care about your problems mate. I'm making my debut!" Which gets a laugh, as lots of his comments do, because his chutzpah is so refreshingly un-English, brazen yet without malice.

And he has another message for the whole bunch of wimpy, self-effacing English journalists. It's time they ganged up on Australia to take revenge for years of shameless Pommie bashing.

"I was playing grade cricket there when England last toured and it was ridiculous. All day every day on chat shows, adverts, everywhere – the English get absolutely crucified," he says.

"Jesus, they really cop it…. we cop it," he adds, his flick over in mid-sentence from "they" to "we", bespeaking the cultural schizophrenia of an outsider committed to the England cause. After all, who else but a South African-born Englishman would advocate bullying the bullies with relentless Aussie-bashing?

"The English media should do the same to Australia for the whole summer," KP insists. "It already started a bit when there was all the stuff about ghosts at Lumley Castle. They didn't like it at all. Goughie's impersonation of a ghost was hilarious."

Pietersen loves the clown in Gough, as well as the older man's indomitable spirit. They were soul mates in the one-day squad and KP misses his Yorkshire friend already.

"I texted Goughie last night to say it's a bit boring without him. All the others have partners or wives. I'm the only single bloke," he says. He pauses, then adds, tongue-in-cheek: "It can be fun sometimes … but not all of the time."

Pietersen's lightness of tone is disarming and not a little astonishing for a 25-year-old two days ahead of an Ashes debut. Luckily, to go with a fashionable streak in his hair, he has an old-fashioned streak of level-headedness to ground him as his life turns into the surreal story of a cricketing superhero.

"I'm not even thinking about Thursday yet. I'm just preparing as I always do, something I've mastered over five years, and sleeping well. I could sleep for England.

"I'm not some superhuman idiot who doesn't get nerves, but I don't like to blow things out of proportion," he explains. "It's just a game of cricket. The sun will still come up on Friday, Saturday and Sunday so there's no point me being a nervous wreck or I won't enjoy it."

KP's defiant tone can be mistaken for that of a punk upstart who wants to upset the status quo. But he is nothing if not respectful to those who deserve respect, and top of that list is the Australian cricket team.

"They are the best team in the world and nobody can ever, ever, ever say any different," he states baldly.

There is also self-interest in the assessment because KP is defining the size of the challenge that awaits him. To ordinary mortals it seems perverse but when he says he wants to test himself against the very best he genuinely means it.

"I like to challenge myself against the best to see where I stand. So, to get 100 against Australia would be absolutely special. They will come harder at me now because of how I played in the one-dayers and that will be a bigger challenge," he says, relishing the prospect even more.

It's this craving for the toughest competition which so appeals to his close friend and Hampshire colleague Shane Warne, who has been acting as his one-man PR agent all summer.

"I see Warney as a bloke I can look up to and get advice from. He's been through everything – you name it – drugs, sex, cricketing things, high expectations," says KP.

The list of Warne's accomplishments makes him a dubious role model in life, but as a cricketing mentor there is none better.

"I can ring him up any time of the day or night. And he can do the same to me. He's a world legend. To talk to him and get honest, thoughtful advice is fantastic. To have him as a friend is fantastic," he says.

The two will speak every day during the Ashes, and there will be plenty of mickey-taking, but no disrespect because that is not part of the Pietersen code of honour.

"I won't brag over him because he's a friend of mine, not an acquaintance, a real friend," he emphasises. "And he won't brag over me. We will take the mickey out of each other, you'll see, and there'll be fun things said in the press."

Warne has nicknamed KP "600" because he intends to snatch him as his 600th Test wicket. But in the surreal world of Kevin Pietersen, another spin on the sobriquet is just about possible. During a record-breaking debut series he will score his 600th Test run off Warne's bowling.

20 Jul, 2005