BEYOND the obligatory Buzzard and Dog, the Australian World Cup squad seems to be full of big men mincing around with nicknames like Biscuit and Pooch, Bernie and Herbie, Melon and Loony. Jim "Buddylove" Williams, their reserve flanker, even boasts an alias which stretches winsome charm a little too far; but the rest are cute enough to suggest that they belong to the cuddliest Wallaby party in history.

Throughout this leisurely week the Australians have looked ready to exchange meaningful bear-hugs with 15 sensitive old buddies from South Africa - rather than compete in today's ferocious World Cup semifinal against the brutally physical Springboks.

Even when comparing the intense significance of a victory at Twickenham with winning a friendly tussle over a sheep-station in the outback, the Australians resemble a bunch of laid-back larrikins rather than a fanatical rugby team.

Without the grave conviction of the religious South Africans, or the searing ardour which New Zealanders feel when they pull on those historic Black shirts, it's tempting to imagine that the Wallabies will trot out at 2.55 this afternoon with the same breezy bonhomie they exude off the field. Yet they have played the Springboks too often not to revert to their own grim circle as soon as the anthems have been sung and they get down to business.

As they did last week in Cardiff, and before a seething crowd of 107,000 in Sydney this August when Australia hammered New Zealand 28-7, the suddenly serious Wallabies will cling to each other in an austere final embrace. John Eales will then draw out the resolve which underpins their finest rugby.

While the Wallabies can be as exhilarating in attack as the All Blacks, their defensive platform is as solid as any Springbok wall. If the South Africans work in brawny gangs of big-hitting tacklers, the Australians are as effective in spreading themselves into a concentrated fan of defenders.

Daniel Herbert and Tim Horan also combine strength and subtlety to provide Australia with a midfield creativity which the Springbok centres have yet to match. The five other Wallaby backs, from Matt Burke to George Gregan, offer a similarly expansive mix.

But the Australians, especially Eales and Horan, are adept at saying little about themselves while praising their opponents effusively. And whether it is in the art of slick diplomacy or locking the scrum, kicking penalties in Tests or jumping high enough to swat down conversions just as they are about to clear the crossbar, Eales comes closer to perfection than any other forward in international rugby.

So, while the Springboks search for the divine certainty which inspired their "supernatural" performance against England, Eales suggests that "we're happy with a more low-key approach. Rugby is the national sport in South Africa and New Zealand and we consider ourselves fortunate that we get the chance to play them at least twice every year. We've grown used to the physicality and fervour of their rugby."

"We always enjoy playing the Springboks," Horan agrees. "I said before the tournament began that South Africa would be the side to watch. I think their form is coming together at the right time. You don't want to be peaking in the pool games. You want to be peaking about now."

But, Horan adds, "even if we have a lot of support back home, it's not the burden of expectation which the Springboks and the All Blacks feel. If they lose, it's a case of `don't come home'. We create our own expectations within the team - and we're looking to win this tournament."

At their best, as during comprehensive defeats of the All Blacks and Springboks, the Australians appear irresistible.

But coach Rod Macqueen is well aware of what needs to be done today. "In games against the Springboks it's the small things which make the difference. If we slip back in the odd scrum or drop the occasional pass we won't make it. But we're aware of that. If we play to our potential we won't have too many doubts - we'll be in the final."