For some reason, the series was not televised live in Pakistan and I missed what should have been our first encounter on October 4, 1996. Wisden, my childhood bible was on Netscape Navigator by then and had reported sixes being hurled into the parking lot of Nairobi gymkhana that evening. I gave little heed and went back to playing Brian Lara Cricket ‘96.

Zimbabwe travelled to Pakistan later that month and the boy opened the innings with Saeed Anwar. He came across as a pinch hitter who perished early in the first game. However, Wasim Akram persisted with him as an opener in the second. He was dropped at naught but then showed his magic, scoring 66 of 37 balls including four towering sixes at Gaddafi Stadium. We were formally introduced, I became the fan and Shahid Khan Afridi became my hero.

Tall, and handsome, Afridi was a sensation from day one. Boys wanted to be like him and girls wanted to be with him. When he was batting, no one left the seat or switched channels, with him at the crease, anything was possible – but it was the disappointment that was inevitable.

No matter how many sixes he hit and runs he scored, the idiosyncrasy of his dismissals always gave a sense of unfulfilled potential, which reflects in his statistics over a 16-year career.

His batting seemed promising but the muscle in his arm usually over-powered the nerves in his head. He was brutal against medium pacers but suspect against faster men. If it was pitched up, it rocketed to the rope but often it was pitched short and he rushed to the pavilion instead.

Leg spin was never his forte, or for that matter, any kind of spin. His faster one was exciting but not enough to threaten. The highlights of his bowling were in his silky hair and mischievous smile.

He never became the boy who initially replaced Mushtaq Ahmed and he could never grow into the man that had replaced Aamir Sohail. To be fair, he did not need to, he already had a place in my life that others did not – he had become my favourite Pakistani cricketer.

He played his cricket outside the realm of the game itself and inside the hearts of his fans. All I wanted was a six and all he wanted was to hear me clap. We were both young and brash and nothing else mattered, not what the scoreboard said and definitely not what coach or captain advised.

It was difficult to judge if he was falling victim to my unconditional love or if he had started taking advantage of it. Like with most things grey, it was probably a mix of both. My applause had turned him deaf and he refused to hear me moan at his failure.

It was soon apparent that he did not have a place in the team but he managed to get selected anyway, his critics grew larger in number but his fans kept increasing as well. He continued to recklessly throw his wicket away but with his departure, stadiums also emptied out, it was the Shahid Afridi paradox.

Then came the summer of 2004 and I was fortunate to follow our team to Amstelveen. A day before the first game I caught up with the boys at Het Spectrum, a water park in Hoofddorp, 20 minutes from Amsterdam.

It was heartening to see how our new coach Bob Woolmer had combined leisure and training for his boys in a swimming pool. However, I was surprised to learn how highly he rated Afridi as a gifted all-rounder. In the previous year, Shahid had scored 21 runs at an average of 5.33 and taken three wickets at an average of 48. Clearly, Woolmer had no idea about cricket in Pakistan.

Next morning Afridi was out for 19 runs that included two fours and a six and Pakistan were bundled out for 192; in reply, India were all out for a 127. Afridi registered bowling figures of 4-20 and I made my first appearance on Wisden Cricinfo; a picture of a fan in a hat, storming the field of play with a Pakistani flag. We were fans reported of potentially putting Sachin Tendulkar and Sourav Ganguly in danger of terrorist attacks.

Afridi typically went on to score at an average of 21.63 with a strike rate of 147.82 that year but he also remarkably took 22 wickets at an average of 20.27 and a strike rate of 26.3.

Improving his flippers and adding an orthodox off-spinner to his repertoire, eight years into his career, Afridi had suddenly transformed into a bowling all-rounder. Now, for the first time in his life he merited a place in the side for pure cricketing reasons.

Afridi had stepped into the most fruitful phase of his career where his bowling dominated the affair. In time, he would develop a good wrong‘un and drift would become his most lethal weapon. His batting habits had been spoilt for way too long and were beyond repair. Though, now the sixes were mere bonus and his ball did all the talking.

Test cricket and captaincy also came his way but he could not do justice to them either, again, a part of the blame goes to our system that fails to utilize its assets, a mechanism in which all of stakeholders contribute in their own capacity.

Today, he continues to bat like he does not care but, it is the drastic fall of his bowling form that is the real cause of concern and reason for his possible end – he was wicketless in 37 agonizing overs in the five ODIs in South Africa.

The final in Benoni summarized the larger part of Afridi’s career; his batting not responsible enough and bowling not good enough. My love for him was the only reason he was allowed to dress in green and apparently given the last chance to break my trust. Predictably, he crossed the fine line between playing carefree cricket and not caring about the position of his team.

Sixteen years into our relationship, we are both a little older and we understand life a bit more than we did when we started off as teenagers. We realize we should take a break if not break up, but have we matured enough to face reality? The odds are that neither of us have, he will want to continue playing and deep inside my heart, I still crave for him.

Cricket without Lala will never be the same, but time is a great healer and perhaps it’s time for us to bid farewell and move in separate directions, such is life and so is cricket.

Mistakes that we make as friends, siblings, kids and parents are sometimes similar to what we make as heroes and fans. Expectation and disappointment, joy and grief, gratitude and anger, love and hate, are all part of intimate relations. However, taking someone for granted can lead to despair.

It is important that success is rewarded and failures are punished, that good is hailed and ills are condemned. Tragically for Pakistan, far too many times we have done the opposite. Heroes have to be accountable and fans held responsible. Even in the face of adversity we shall unearth more diamonds.

The writer grew up in a home with sports as its religion and “The Cricketer” subscription of black and white pages as holy script. He resides in Istanbul and can be reached here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

Yes, there was. Read on.

The Eternal Debacle

Recently, the Pakistan Test side faced a humiliating 3-0 series defeat against South Africa in South Africa.

A defeat was always on the cards but not a debacle, considering how well the Pakistanis had done against England, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh under the captaincy of Misbah-ul-Haq.

However, the three series that Pakistan won were all played on flat tracks in the UAE and Bangladesh that also begun to take turn in the latter half of the Tests.

But the tracks in South Africa were almost the complete opposite of what the Pakistan side had relished in the UAE.

They were hard and fast and some even had enough grass on them to help the quick bowlers get prodigious seam movement. With the ball coming in at rapid speeds at their chests and faces and also moving, the Pakistani batsmen seemed all at sea. It’s amazing how even after decades of failing on fast tracks; all Asian teams continue to struggle on such strips.

But the good news (for Asian sides) is that today,  South Africa seems to be the only country where almost all Test centres have wickets that overwhelmingly favour fast bowling.

Otherwise, apart from the wicket at Perth’s WACA Stadium in Australia, and the one in Headingley, Leeds in England that is notorious for aiding swing and seam bowling, wickets across the cricket-playing world these days are mostly flat, slow and low, or at best, turners.

That’s why wickets in South Africa remain to be refreshing exceptions.

Sitting ducks: Pakistani batsmen completely failed to cope with quick bowling on fast South African wickets in the recently concluded series. They were bounced out 3-0 in the rubber.

But this was not always the case.

In the 1970s and a good part of the 1980s, though wickets in Pakistan, India and Sri Lanka were somewhat exactly the way they are now, almost all grounds in the West Indies and Australia offered hard, fast and bouncy tracks.

In England the ball used to move more (off the wicket) than it does today, mainly due to the fact that even until 1978, wickets were largely left uncovered and most of them would turn into slippery monsters after receiving rain.

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Two Tribes

Someone (on TV) recently asked, “Was there ever a time when the Pakistan cricket side was actually able to successfully negotiate quality quick bowlers on a fast track?”

Well, yes, there actually was a time. Two series come to mind in this respect: Pakistan’s tour of Australia and West Indies (under Mushtaq Mohammad) in 1976-77, and Pakistan’s tour of the West Indies (under Imran Khan) in 1987-88.

When Khan’s team squared the series in West Indies in 1988 (1-1), the Windies had already peaked (in the mid-1980s), even though they still boasted of quality fast bowlers and the wickets in the West Indies were still relatively quick.

Nevertheless, the West Indies side would gradually begin to decline after this and the wickets in the Caribbean would get slower and lower by the year.

That’s why the 1976-77 series against Australia and West Indies remains to be one of the best examples of a time when a Pakistani side played some of its finest cricket on fast wickets.

But this is not the only thing that made this series iconic. Imran Khan (in both of his books, 1984’s ‘Imran’ and 1992’s, ‘An All Round View’), considered the Pakistan squad of the 1970s to be the most talented he has played in.

He wrote that though this was a highly talented side, it had been underachieving until the 1976-77 series against Australia and West Indies.

It was only after these series that Pakistan cricket finally managed to be taken a lot more seriously and the international worth of a number of their cricketers grew two-fold.

Secondly, Australia and the West Indies were the top two Test sides in the world. And most of the grounds in Australia and the Caribbean islands had some of the quickest wickets – quicker even than the ones found today in South Africa.

Both the sides also had the fastest bowlers of the period: Dennis Lillie, Jeff Thomson and Gary Gilmour (Australia); Michael Holding, Andy Roberts, Joel Garner and Colin Croft (West Indies).

Jeff Thomson (centre) and Dennis Lillee (right) formed one of the deadliest fast bowling partnerships in the mid and late 1970s. Both were propelled into prominence by the aggressive on-field tactics of Australian captain Ian Chappell (left). After sending a number of English batsmen to the hospital during the 1975 Ashes series in Australia, Thomson told reporters: ‘I like to see blood on the pitch.’

These quicks had devastated an assortment of Test sides and sent numerous players to the hospital when the Pakistan team arrived to face them.

Also remember, helmets and other protective gear like the arm and chest pads were not yet invented.

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Ready and Willing

Mushtaq Mohammad (left) with Zaheer Abbas, 1974.

Pakistani all-rounder, Mushtaq Muhammad, was made the captain in 1976 at the age of 33.

He replaced leg-spinner, Intikhab Alam, as skipper who had led Pakistan between 1971 and 1975 during which Pakistan could only win one Test!

Mushtaq was a regular member in the side and highly valued as a solid middle-order batsman, a wily leg spinner and an excellent slip fielder.

The decision to make him the captain was taken by the Pakistan cricket board when it decided to bring in a more aggressive captain to replace the defensive Intikhab.

But, in spite of the fact that the board was looking for a more pro-active and creative captain to turn the Pakistan team into a winning unit, it got more than that because Mushtaq was as head-strong as the board’s chairman, A H. Kardar – a former Pakistan cricket captain (1951-58) and a close aide of the then Prime Minster of Pakistan, Z A. Bhutto.

On the very first day of the first Test of his captaincy, Mushtaq resigned! This was during the 1976 New Zealand team’s 3-Test series against Pakistan in Pakistan.

At lunch on the first day of the first Test in Lahore, Mushtaq handed over his resignation to the board because the team for the match was selected without fully consulting him.

Kardar asked Mushtaq’s elder brother, Hanif Mohammad – a former Pakistan captain and legendary opening batsmen – to ‘talk some sense into Mushtaq.’

Mushtaq reluctantly agreed to take back the resignation and Pakistan went on to win the Test – it’s first in three years!

This was the same Test in which an 18-year-old Javed Miandad made his debut and cracked a quick-fire century along with the veteran Asif Iqbal.

A young Javed Miandad on his way to notch his first Test century. He made 163 against the visiting New Zealand side in Lahore (Oct. 1976). Pakistan won the match.

Even though Mushtaq had led Pakistan to its first Test victory after almost three years, he saw himself on the wrong side of Karadar once again when he asked the board to raise the playing fee of the cricketers.

Kardar refused and threatened to sack him. But when the team’s senior players exhibited their support for Mushtaq, Kardar backed down and the team went on to win the second Test of the series as well (in Hyderabad).

The third Test (in Karachi) was drawn but Pakistan won the series 2-0.

Next up was a gruelingly long tour of two of the top Test playing countries at the time: Australia and the West Indies.

Pakistan’s 2-0 win against New Zealand at home meant nothing to the Australian and the Carrabin press. It dismissed the Pakistani side as a bunch of bunnies that would be swallowed whole by the Australian and West Indian sides packed with fearsome quick bowlers and classy batsmen.

A 24-year-old Imran Khan uproots the stumps of a New Zealand batsman during the third Test in Karachi, 1976. Also seen in the picture is wicketkeeper, Wasim Bari.

The wickets would be fast and the crowds hostile.

Before the team was announced for the tour, Mushtaq once again demanded that the players’ fee be raised.

Kardar again refused and in fact, sacked Mushtaq and some other senior members of the squad. He then decided to reinstate Intikhab as skipper.

The Pakistani press supported Mushtaq and the players, leaving Prime Minister Bhutto to send one of his leading ministers, Abdul Hafeez Pirzada, to sort out the issue.

Pirzada accepted the players’ demands and Mushtaq and his Vice Captain, Asif Iqbal, finally agreed to sit with the selectors to pick the squad for the long tour.

Between November 1976 and April 1977, Pakistan was to play 8 Tests – 3 against Australia and 5 against the West Indies – besides some ODIs and a number of side games.

A 17-member squad was selected:

•    Mushtaq Mohammad | (Captain) | Age: 33 | From: Karachi | Right-handed batsman and right-arm leg-break
•    Asif Iqbal | (Vice Captain) | Age: 33 | From: Karachi | Right-handed batsman
•    Majid Khan | Age: 30 | From: Lahore | Right-Handed opening batsman and occasional off-spin.
•    Sadiq Muhammad | Age: 31 | From: Karachi | Left-handed opening batsman
•    Zaheer Abbas | Age: 29 | From: Karachi | Right-handed batsman
•    Javed Miandad | Age: 19 | From: Karachi | Right-handed batsman and occasional leg-break
•    Haroon Rashid | Age: 23 | From: Karachi | Right-handed batsman
•    Mudassar Nazar | Age: 20 | From: Lahore | Right-handed opening batsman
•    Wasim Raja | Age: 24 | From: Multan | Left-handed batsman and right-arm leg-spin
•    Wasim Bari | Age: 27 | From: Karachi | Wicketkeeper and right-handed batsman
•    Taslim Arif | Age: 22 | From: Karachi | Wicketkeeper and right-handed batsman
•    Imran Khan | Age: 24 | From: Lahore | Right-handed batsman and right-arm fast
•    Sarfraz Nawaz | Age: 28 | From: Lahore | Right-handed batsman and right-arm fast-medium
•    Saleem Altaf | Age: 32 | From: Lahore | Right-handed batsman and right-arm fast-medium
•    Sikander Bakht | Age: 19 | From: Karachi | Right-handed batsman and right-arm fast-medium
•    Asif Masood | Age: 30 | From: Lahore | Right-handed batsman and right-arm fast-medium
•    Intikhab Alam | Age: 35 | From: Lahore | Right-handed batsman and right-arm leg-break
•    Iqbal Qasim | Age: 23 | From: Karachi | Left-handed batsman and Left-arm leg-spin.
•    Mohsin Khan | Age: 21 | From: Karachi | Right-handed batsman.*

*(Mohsin Khan joined the squad on the West Indian leg of the tour).

Former Pakistan cricketer Sujauddin was the manager.

The squad just before boarding the plane for the long tour (from left): Zaheer Abbas, Asif Masood, Intikhab Alam, Saleem Altaf, Mudassar Nazar, Wasim Raja, Imran Khan, Sujauddin (Manager), Imtiaz Khan (Assitant Manager), Majid Khan, Asif Iqbal, Mushtaq Mohanmmad; (sitting from left): Sarfraz Nawaz, Wasim Bari, Iqbal Qasim, Taslim Arif, Sadiq Mohammad, Javed Miandad, Sikander Bakht and (not seen in the picture), Haroon Rashid.

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Bounced, Sledged and Back

The Pakistan team arrived in Australia to a hostile reception. The Australian press had dismissed them as bunnies (must this be repeated?) and they were up against an Australian side that had whipped England 4-1 and the West Indies 5-1.

9 slips for Lillee! Australia vs New Zealand, 1977.

The Pakistanis also came across something that the Australians had begun to develop under Ian Chappell’s captaincy: Sledging.

Though Chappell retired in 1975, he was replaced by his brother Greg Chappell who even furthered the sledging bit.

Sledging meant bowlers and close-in fielders abusing the batsman or cracking ‘personal jokes’ about him to infuriate him, making him lose his concentration.

The Pakistanis got a bagful of this during the first Test in Adelaide on a quick-ish pitch.

They were up against Thomson, Lillee and Gilmour, all of whom threatened to reduce the Pakistan under the score of 200 had it not been for a gutsy 85 by Zaheer and 48 by Imran.

Pakistan finally managed to notch 272, but it could have been far worse.

Thomson, who was consistently bowling over 90 mph, and had swallowed two Pakistani wickets, tried to bounce out Zaheer.

The ball rose viciously and Zaheer was late on the hook shot. The rising ball hit the edge of his bat and ballooned in the air.

Thomson ran for the catch not knowing that Allan Turner was also coming in for it.

Both the players collided. Thomson dislocated his shoulder and had to be carried away from the field.

Thomson (left) and Turner collide.

When the Australians came in to bat, they smashed the Pakistani bowlers all over the park and gained a lead of over 150.

With two and a half days remaining, Pakistan had to bat for a long time to save the game.

Zaheer, Mushtaq and Javed took the score to 236-4. Zaheer also raised a stylish century, only to get out at 101, hooking Lillee.

Imran, Saleem Altaf, Sarfraz and Bari went quickly, leaving Pakistan reeling at 379-9 – just 217 ahead and more than a day and a half remaining in the Test.

Asif Iqbal was still there with the number 11, Iqbal Qasim.

At tea, Mushtaq admonished Zaheer in the dressing room for playing recklessly after completing his century.

But what happened next took the Australians by surprise.

Asif Iqbal added 87 precious runs with Qasim who faced 96 deliveries but scored just 4!

He gave vital support to Asif who went on to score a fighting 152.

The partnership was finally broken in the first session of the fifth day when Qasim was run out.

Iqbal Qasim run-out after adding 87 with Asif Iqbal.

Australians were left with a gettable 284 to win in two sessions. But Pakistan made sure that didn’t happen, especially due to some tight bowling by Iqbal Qasim who took 4 wickets.

The Australians aborted the chase after the fall of their sixth wicket and needed just 23 to win when the game ended in a tense draw.

The crowd booed the Australians for abandoning the chase.

After the day’s play, Lillee went into the Pakistan dressing room with a bucket of Australian beer. He walked towards Mushtaq: ‘Come on, Mushy, let’s you and I have some beers.’

Mushtaq was furious: ‘I don’t understand you guys. Out there you insult and abuse us, and now you want to have a beer with my team?’

Lillee laughed: ‘What takes place on the field stays on the field. Off it, we’re buddies.’

Earning a fighting draw almost felt like a win for the Pakistanis and they went brimming with confidence to Melbourne for the second Test.

The wicket at the Melbourne Cricket Stadium used to be one of the fastest in the world until 1975. But when the Pakistanis arrived here they were pleased to notice a dry, brown and flat track.

Sarfraz had gotten himself injured in the nets and was replaced by Asif Masood.

Pakistan fast bowler, Asif Masood at the Melbourne Cricket Stadium.

On the way to the toss, Australian skipper, Greg Chappell, pulled  out a tossing coin that had a woman’s breast on one side and a woman’s backside on the other.

‘Mushy,’ he said, smiling, ‘instead of saying heads or tails, you’ll have to call boobs or butts, okay?’

Mushy called boobs and lost the toss. Soon, the Pakistani bowling attack was being taken to the cleaners.

Australia posted a mammoth 514. Pakistan responded in kind. Or sort of. Pakistan’s celebrated opening pair of Majid Khan and Sadiq Muhammad quickly posted an opening stand of 113 before Majid fell.

No problem. Zaheer continued with his good form and pushed the score to 241 with Sadiq who made a fluent 105.

But then, as if out of nowhere, Lillee produced two stunning spells of fast bowling leaving Pakistan collapsing from 241-2 to 333 all out.

The Australians scored 315-8 before declaring, leaving Pakistan an impossible 499 runs to get. The only highlight of Pakistan’s bowling was Imran’s 5 wickets but which he got at the expense of 122 runs.

Playing for a draw, Pakistan collapsed, scoring just 151, devastated again by Lillee (4 wickets), and leg-break bowler, Kerry O’Keef. Pakistan lost the game by a whopping 348 runs!

Mushy should’ve called ‘butts.’

Sadiq Mohammad poses with the bat he scored 105 with at Melbourne.

Another one bites the dust: Javed Miandad goes for 10 watched by skipper Mushtaq as Pakistan collapse in the second Test.

A day before the third Test in Sydney, Mushtaq and vice captain, Asif Iqbal, couldn’t make out the nature of the wicket at the Sydney Cricket Ground. It wasn’t exactly a green-top but nor was it like the one in Melbourne.

In the 3-day side game against Queensland, the flamboyant Wasim Raja had cracked a hard-hitting century and was expecting to be selected in Sydney.

At night, Mushtaq and Asif Iqbal sat together in Mushtaq’s hotel room to decide the final XI for the third Test. They believed the Sydney track would help the batsmen and decided to strengthen the batting line-up. They dropped fast bowler Salim Altaf and replaced him with the debutant middle-order batsman, Haroon Rashid. Asif Masood made way for the returning Sarfraz.

Mushtaq gave the names of the selected team to Manager Sujahuddin who informed Raja that he wasn’t in the side.

A loner, eccentric and a binge drinker, Raja went on a rampage. After getting drunk, he smashed a mirror in his hotel room with a whiskey bottle and then stumbled into the hotel lobby, cursing Sujahuddin.

Wasim Raja (1977).

Mudassar, Asif Masood, Sadiq, Sarfraz and Salmim Altaf were at the hotel bar having a drink when they saw Raja stumbling and cursing his way across the lobby. They at once alerted Mushtaq.

Raja accused Sujahuddin for keeping him out of the side until Mushtaq arrived and calmed Raja down. Some members of the management wanted Raja to be sent back home, but Mushtaq vetoed the idea.

The next day the third and final Test of the tour began, with Pakistan one down in the series.

Chappell won the toss and elected to bat. He also thought it would be a flat track. But it turned out to be quite the opposite.

The grass on it somehow remained fresh throughout the game giving assistantce to the quick bowlers. But Pakistan had gone into the game with only two quicks: Imran and Sarfraz.

Both shared 42 overs between them and cleaned up the Australians for just 211. Imran picked up 6 wickets and Sarfraz 3.

Sarfraz gets rid of Gary Cosier. (From Left): Sadiq, Mushtaq, Sarfraz, Imran, Javed and Cosier.

But now, the question was how the Pakistani batsmen would face up to the likes of Lillee, Gilmour and the awkward Max Walker on this wicket.

The three tested the Pakistanis with a series of bouncers and lots of sledging and reduced them to 111-4.

Pakistan regrouped when young guns Javed Miandad and Haroon Rashid bravely played around the veteran Asif Iqbal and pushed the Pakistan score to over 300. Asif notched a valiant 120, hooking, pulling and driving the Australian quicks at will.

Asif Iqbal.

The Pakistan dressing room erupts with applause as Asif Iqbal reaches his century in Sydney. (From left [sitting]): Haroon Rashid, Majid Khan, Sadiq Muhammad, Taslim Arif and Imran Khan. (Standing from left): Saleem Altaf, Wasim Bari and Sarfraz Nawaz.

The wicket remained fresh and bouncy.

Frustrated by the doggedness of Pakistan’s middle and lower order batsmen, Lillee and Gilmour had bowled numerous bouncers and hurled all sorts of abuses at them.

One Lillee delivery struck Sarfraz hard in the ribcage. Sarfraz threw away his bat, walked up to the leg-umpire and shouted: ‘Are you f**king blind! Can’t you see?’

The umpire told him to continue batting. Lillee bowled another vicious bouncer that whizzed past Sarfraz’s face. ‘Eat this, bunny!’ Lillee snarled.

The Australians began their second innings 149 runs behind Pakistan’s score.

But once again they struggled against the pace of Imran and the swing of Sarfraz.

After both the pace-men had reduced Australia to 115-8, a gritty partnership began to develop between Rod Marsh and Dennis Lillee.

Taking a leaf out of the Australians’ sledging technique, Mushtaq placed the 19-year-old and very vocal Javed Miandad at silly point.

Miandad would sing songs from Urdu films to irritate Marsh and Lillee and kept saying, ‘now he will kill you,’ whenever Imran or Sarfraz would send down a bouncer.

Imran Khan eyes and gives a mouthful to Australia’s Rod Marsh at Sydney.

Lillee complained to the umpire and the umpire told Mushtaq that he would take Imran off if he persisted on bowling bouncers.

Mushtaq was furious: ‘How come you didn’t admonish the Australian bowlers when they were bouncing our tail-enders?’

But the umpire kept saying he would take Imran off.

Mushtaq asked Imran to stop (in front of the umpire), but as Khan walked back to his bowling mark, Mushtaq told him to ‘aim between the bastard’s eyes!’

Mushtaq arguing with the umpire. Also seen is substitute fielder, Wasim Raja, and a furious Imran Khan (behind the umpire).

Pakistan finally bag Rod Marsh. (From left): Sadiq, Bari, Mushtaq, Imran and Marsh.

Khan bowled at ferocious speeds, capturing another 6 wickets with Sarfraz pitching in with another 3. Both skidded Australia out for just 180, leaving Pakistan just 32 to get.

This portion of the match was telecasted live by PTV – a rarity in those days.

Pakistan reached the target with the loss of 2 wickets. Majid Khan finally wrapped up the game by smashing 3 fours and then hooking Lillee for a six.
Not only did Pakistan square the series 1-1, it won its first ever Test on Australian soil. The Australian press was left speechless.

Mushtaq and Imran celebrate Pakistan’s victory.

Sadiq and Mushtaq share a beer in the dressing room after the win. Seen in the background is Imran who took 12 wickets in the match.

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Frolicking Good and Then Some

Pakistan flew to the West Indies from Australia via the Fiji Islands and reached the Caribbean in February 1977.

The West Indian team, fans and press were now more than just curious to see a side that had squared a series against the number one team in the world.

The West Indies were considered to be the number two team at the time after having been crushed by Australia 5-1 in 1975.

But West Indies had a longer line of fast men: Michael Holding, Vanburn Holder, Bernard Julien and the very slippery, Andy Roberts.

When Holding pulled out of the series due to injury, he was replaced by two more quicks: The very fast and very unconventional, Colin Croft, and the 6ft-8inch giant, Joel Garner.

Andy Roberts, Michael Holding, Colin Croft and Joel Garner.

Legendary West Indies all-rounder and former captain, Garry Sobers, was not impressed by what Pakistan had achieved in Australia.

He predicted that the West Indies, led by Clive Lloyd would be able to brush aside the Pakistanis.

Even before the first Test, Pakistan lost the in-form Zaheer who broke his toe while playing football at the hotel beach.

The 21-year-old Mohsin Khan was flown in from Pakistan as a replacement, but Zaheer was kept in the touring squad in case he recovered during the 5-Test series.

Then young Miandad fell into depression when news arrived that his father had died.

He was preparing to fly back home when he was stopped by his mother (on the phone) who insisted that his father would have wanted him to stay with the team.

But the problems didn’t end there. Pakistan almost lost its main wicketkeeper as well – quite literally.

Wasim Bari was taking a swim at a beach when a strong tide carried him deeper into the sea. He yelled for help and almost drowned but was thankfully saved by a lifeguard.

After a few side games, the Pakistanis flew out to Barbados for the first Test. The wicket at the Kingston Oval was reddish in colour and looked like it would help the fast men.

Mushtaq and Asif decided to beef up the batting. Haroon was played at the injured Zaheer’s position and Wasim Raja was brought in at number 7. Imran, Salim Altaf and Sarfraz were to lead the pace attack.

Pakistan won the toss and elected to bat because Mushtaq thought the wicket would crumble in the fourth innings.

Croft and Garner reduced Pakistan to 271-7 in spite of a quick-fire 88 by Majid.

Then Raja came into his element and played well with the tail to push the score up to 435. Smashing 12 fours and a six, Raja reached his century and remained not out at 117.

The West Indians responded in kind, posting 421, just 14 runs behind Pakistan’s score.

By the time Pakistan began its second innings, the reddish strip seemed to have quickened up a bit more and the cracks on it had begun to open.

Croft, Garner and Roberts reduced Pakistan to 158-9, or just 172 runs ahead with almost two days remaining. The West Indians were on their way.

Javed Miandad swings but misses a delivery from Joel Garner, is hit on the pads and given out LBW. Asif Iqbal watches from the non-strikers end.

Not quite. Raja and the number 11, Bari, added a blistering 122 runs for the last wicket partnership!

Raja cracked a flamboyant 71 and Bari a streaky but vital 60 as Pakistan was able to post a respectable 291, leaving the West Indies to get 305 in a day and a half.

Wasim Bari attempts to run Vivian Richards out at Barbados.

At 142-2 it seemed the Windies would be able to reach the target. But Sarfraz, Imran and Salim Altaf had other ideas. All three then rapidly began to run through the West Indian side with an impressive exhibition of seam bowling.

Pakistan had turned the tables and was now heading for a possible victory when the ninth West Indies wicket fell at 237. But dogged resistance from the last wicket pair of Deryck Murray and Croft saved the day for the hosts. The game ended in a tense draw.

The great Gary Sobers was made to eat his words. Almost.

The squad travelled to the Port of Spain for the second Test. Here the wicket was harder than the one in Barbados.

Sarfraz got injured and was replaced by Intikhab Alam, the veteran leg-spinner. An out-of-form and depressed Miandad was dropped and the left-arm leggie Iqbal Qasim was brought in.

Mushtaq believed the wicket would eventually slow down and begin to take spin. He won the toss and chose to bat first. Wrong decision.

Right from the word go the West Indian fast men were all over the Pakistanis. Especially Colin Croft who destroyed the Pakistan line-up by bagging 8 wickets.

Only Wasim Raja stood tall, smashing a rapid 65 with 7 fours and 2 towering sixes of Garner and Croft.

Six and out! Raja lofts Croft over long-off for six (left). Gets bowled by the very next delivery (right).

The West Indians responded with a telling total of 316, gaining a big lead of 236.

Pakistanis tried to regroup and fight back. Sadiq and Majid posted an opening stand of 123. But from 123-0, Pakistan crumbled to 181-4.

However, as Roberts and Garner seemed to be running through the Pakistan batting, they once again found Raja in the way.

He manoeuvred some vital partnerships with the lower order (especially with Imran), and smashed 85, again with 7 fours and 2 sixes.

Pakistan left the Windies a target of 206 to make in a day and a half. They achieved it rather easily on the fifth day of the Test for the loss of four wickets.

Pakistan was now one down in the series.

As the Pakistanis reached Georgetown for the third Test, Mushtaq contemplated dropping himself from the side. His batting formed had dipped and the defeat in the second Test seemed to have hit him hard.

He discussed the matter with his Vice Captain, Asif Iqbal and Majid Khan. But both of them advised him to stay put.

Another quick strip awaited the Pakistanis in Georgetown. Zaheer had recovered from his injury and was immediately selected in the playing XI.

West Indies won the toss and without any hesitation, Lloyd invited the Pakistanis to bat first.

Roberts, Garner and Croft quickly sent the Pakistanis packing for just 194.

Imran was the highest scorer, striking a defiant 47. But he almost lost his head doing this when a fierce bouncer from Roberts whizzed past his face.

‘The ball passed me even before I could react. It was the fastest delivery I have ever faced,’ he wrote later in a book.

Andy Roberts.

But the wicked slowed down by the time the Windies began their innings. And it showed.

They collected 448 runs and a huge lead of 244. With more than two days remaining in the game and the wicket expected to break, Pakistan were facing another defeat.

Pakistan started their second innings well. Sadiq and Majid cruised to take Pakistan to 60 for no loss when a vicious bouncer from Roberts smashed into the right cheekbone of the left-handed Sadiq and he went down like a man shot.

He lost consciousness and was bleeding. He had to be carried away from the ground straight to the hospital.

‘I thought he was dead,’ wrote his brother Mushtaq many years later in his biography.

Sadiq smashed in the face by a Roberts bouncer.

Zaheer joined Majid and instead of being intimidated by Sadiq’s injury, both launched a hard hitting counterattack and took the score to 219. Zaheer fell for a solid 80, but Majid continued, playing perhaps one his most stylish and important Test innings.

Mushtaq fell cheaply, but Haroon and the lower order played around Majid until he was finally out for an epic 167 that included 25 fours.

Sadiq had also returned to bat – his cheek in stitches, and left eye bloodshot and swollen, he made a valiant 48.

Pakistan posted 540. Not only did they wipe out the lead but gave the West Indies 304 to make in less than a day.

The West Indies were 154-1 when the match ended in a draw. The Pakistanis had fought hard to earn it.

Mushtaq again contemplated dropping himself for the fourth Test at Queens Park in the Port of Spain. Once again Majid and Asif advised him to stay in the playing IX.

Salim Altaf was dropped and made way for Iqbal Qasim. There was some doubt about Sadiq’s availability, but the swelling on his cheek and eye seemed to have gotten better.

The Queen’s Park seemed to have the kind of reddish strip that the Pakistanis had encountered in the first Test in Bridgetown. It promised to play even and fair.

Lloyd won the toss and sent Pakistan in. The Pakistanis were struggling at 51-3 when Mushtaq joined Majid.

Mushtaq was tested with a series of quick bouncers by Croft and Roberts. But on the other end, Majid continued from where he had left in Georgetown.

He pulled, hooked and drove the West Indian fast men with disdain and took the score to 159 with Mushtaq.

Majid fell for 92. His innings was spiked with 14 fours and a six.

Majid Khan.

Pakistan were soon 191-5 and still struggling when Asif got out. But then Mushtaq finally found his form. He played well with the lower-order and posted a vital 121 helping the team reach a respectable 341.

Mushtaq flashes a ‘V’ sign in the dressing room after cracking a century at the Port of Spain.

Mushtaq then carried his regained confidence into his bowling and bagged 5 wickets. He was amicably aided by Imran who bagged 4 and West Indies were shot out for 154, giving Pakistan a handy lead of 187.

But the lead seemed a tad too small when the West Indies quicks reduced the Pakistanis to 95-5 in their second innings.

During the tour, some Pakistani players had developed a great liking for ganja (a marijuana variant) that was easily available in the Caribbean.

One of its biggest fans was the elusive Wasim Raja. According to his teammate, the then 19-year-old Sikander Bakht, Raja was outside the stadium sharing a ganja joint with a few West Indies fans when Mushtaq and Asif were batting.

Raja came back into the dressing room and before he could pad-up, Asif got out. Raja quickly strapped on his pads and gloves, picked up his ‘SS Jumbo’ bat, and still very much stoned, strolled out to join Mushtaq.

Raja’s first scoring shot was a towering straight six off a fuming (and bewildered) Garner!

As Mushtaq grinded his innings, Raja continued to play his shots. He cut, drove, pulled and lofted, all the while being asked by skipper Mushtaq to slow down and hang in, but to no avail. Raja was on a roll again.

Raja smashes another four.

Mushtaq fell at 211 for a well-crafted 51. He was quickly followed by Raja (70), when after lofting Garner for his third six of the innings he tried to smash the tall fast bowler over long off again but was clean bowled.

Then Pakistan’s tail began to wag, and wagged hard when Imran and Sarfraz began to smash the West Indies attack all over the park.

Pakistan was finally bowled out for 301, gaining a lead of 488 runs.

Pakistan now had a day and a half to bowl out West Indies and square the series.

Sarfraz and Mushtaq reduced WI to 154-7 with 3 wickets each. But Pakistan’s advance towards victory was halted by a long and dogged partnership between Murray and Roberts.

They hung on, usurping precious time and taking the game into the last session of the Test match.

Desperation began to creep into the Pakistan side. PTV decided to hook up and show the session live on TV.

Mushtaq tried everything but the partnership just could not be broken.

Mushtaq threw the ball to Raja. Raja began to bowl looping leg-breaks, trying to draw the dogged Murray out of his crease to drive. He did exactly that and was caught by Sadiq.  WI 196-8.

New man, West Indies leggie Inshan Ali, came in, to play out time with Roberts.

But Ali went almost the same way as Murray did. Caught Sadiq, bowled Raja.

Pakistanis went ballistic. But there was still one wicket remaining. Raja continued to invite West Indies batsmen to drive him.

Roberts did that in Raja’s third over and did it well, lofting him for two huge sixes.

But as Raja bowled the fifth delivery of the over, Roberts expected another fligted ball. Instead Raja bowled a quick leg-break, making Roberts edge the ball into the waiting hands of Majid Khan in the slips.

It was all over. Pakistan had won the game and squared the series.

Mushtaq lifted on the shoulders by his team mates soon after Pakistan squared the series at the Port of Spain. (From Left): Iqbal Qasim, Mohsin Khan, Haroon Rashid, Sarfraz Nawaz, Wasim Bari, Javed Miandad, Imran Khan, Mushtaq Muhammad, Sadiq Muhammad, Asif Iqbal, Intikhab Alam, Zaheer Abbas, Saleem Altaf and Wasim Raja.

Post-match celebrations: Pakistan team celebrate with champagne and dancing at a West Indian nightclub. Seen in the picture are Wasim Raja (far left), Mudassar Nazar (left), Javed Miandad (right) and Sikander Bakht (far right).

From the day they landed in Australia, Pakistan had fought hard and successfully defied the odds.

They faced hostile fast bowling, quick pitches, an antagonistic press and taunts of being bunnies.

Now here they were, going into the last game of their long tour after squaring the series against the two leading and most feared sides of the world.

Another fast track awaited them in Jamaica. They dropped Qasim and brought in Sikandar Bakht to beef up the pace attack for the fifth and final Test.

Lloyd won the toss and surprisingly elected to bat. The Windies were soon in danger of being shot out under 200, but the hard-hitting West Indies opener Gordon Greenidge, posted a quick 100 to help West Indies reach 280.

Imran bowled sharply and was rewarded with 6 wickets.

Imran Khan endorsing the once famous Australian lager, Hemeling

Pakistan didn’t fare any better. They were shot out for just 198, with only Haroon Rasheed posting a fifty.

The Windies then squeezed the Pakistanis into a corner by making 359 and gaining a huge lead of 441 runs.

Sarfraz having a word with the West Indian umpire during the Jamaica Test.

Batting now to save the game and the series, Pakistan faltered and were reduced to 138-5.

Asif Iqbal and Raja then set about to repair the damage; they decided to attack.

Raja was back slashing and pulling and Asif drove and cut as both took Pakistan to 253 before Raja fell for 64 trying to loft Halford out of the ground.

Raja created a then world record by cracking the most sixes in a Test series (14).

Imran hung around with Asif who completed his first century of the series. But the centre soon collapsed and Pakistan were all out for 301, losing the game and the series 2-1.

References

Books:

• Inside Out: Mushtaq Muhammad (2006)
• An All-Round View: Imran Khan (1992)
• Cutting Edge: Javed Miandad
• Zed: Zaheer Abbas (1983)
• Pakistan Book of Cricket 1977: Qamar Ahmed

Magazines:

• The Pakistan Cricketer  (December 1976; May 1977)

*Thanks to Aafia Salam for providing copies of The Cricketer from which I have used a number of priceless photographs of the two series.

Nadeem F. Paracha is a cultural critic and senior columnist for Dawn Newspaper and Dawn.com

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

On the one hand, it embodies the nation’s successes (who will ever forget the World Cup triumph of 1992, or the more recent victory across the border?). On the other hand, it reflects Pakistan’s failings (recall those ugly scandals).

It is also a rare unifying force in a deeply divided country, and even a potential catalyst for peace with a long-time nemesis.

In other words, cricket is a game that any credible Pakistan analyst should strive to understand.

And yet I confess I’m completely clueless about how it’s played. When it comes to cricket, I’m the quintessential ugly American.

Certainly I’m familiar with the broad contours. Years ago, while living in Brussels, I spent hours scrutinising game coverage on Eurosport. An Australian friend even convinced me to play several times (I quickly learned that the necessary skill set is quite different from that of baseball, a game I began playing at a young age).

Yet, these experiences have done little to make me conversant in cricket parlance. It’s easy enough for me to know when a match is underway; I log on to Twitter and am barraged by 140-character staccato bursts of Urdu utterances punctuated by English profanity and exuberant (or angry) references to Misbah, Hafeez and friends. Yet that’s about all I can follow.

The other day I decided enough was enough; it was time to learn more. So I did as any resourceful 21st century scholar would do: I turned to Google and Wikipedia. This research was somewhat helpful. I learned, for example, that Shahid Afridi is not the doctor who helped the CIA find Osama Bin Laden — though he appears to be nearly as controversial.

I then consulted an article called “A Beginner’s Guide to Cricket” described by its author, Justine Larbalestier, as a “pared-down, embarrassingly easy introduction to the world’s holiest game.” Well, perhaps for her it is; I came away from the article thoroughly befuddled. I found Larbalestier’s trenchant talk about “sundries” and “double centuries” more confusing than the speculation surrounding Tahirul Qadri’s Long March.

My next — and much wiser — step was to reach out to Afia Salam. The Pakistani cricket journalist extraordinaire minced no words. “There is consensus,” she told me, “that any attempt to understand cricket by an American would be futile.”

Initially, I wasn’t sure how to respond. But then she said something that prompted me to nod in grudging agreement. Test cricket lasts five days and often ends in a draw, Salam explained. “Now show me an American who can understand [that] and I shall show you an imposter deserving of deportation!”

Indeed, the notion of baseball’s World Series or the National Basketball Association Finals — American equivalents of marquee-level, multi-day sports competition — ending with such an inconclusive outcome does seem utterly unfathomable to me.

Yet as I reflected on all this, trying to make sense of the sport’s intricacies and how they fit in with the realities of today’s Pakistan, I had a revelation. I was falling into a trap that so often ensnares analysts: I was thinking too much. I was gazing at too many trees without realising the supreme significance of the forest. And the forest is epitomised by the Pakistan Super League.

The facts are well known. This new Twenty20 league, scheduled to begin play in March, hopes to showcase cricket’s premier talents, both domestic and foreign. However, the Federation of International Cricketers Associations has warned foreign players not to participate because of security concerns.

In an effort to lure international participants, Pakistan’s Cricket Board has taken the extraordinary step of offering insurance policies valued at up to $2 million.

That’s a lot of value. If 11 foreign players accept that offer (enough to field a full team, I’ve learned), Pakistan would be insuring as much money as the World Bank recently committed to spending on polio eradication efforts in the country.

Yet the PCB’s generous gesture is instructive. The Super League provides a special opportunity for Pakistan to alter the most-dangerous-nation-in-the-world global narrative — and the country is willing to take bold measures to benefit from this opportunity. If foreigners come to play in Pakistan, and all goes smoothly, then a major victory will be scored not just for cricket, but for Pakistan’s bruised and battered image abroad.

It’s a great risk, both for foreign cricketers and for Pakistan itself. Yet as Salam told me, the Twenty20 league is the “life blood” of Pakistani cricket: It draws the crowds, sponsors, and money needed to sustain the country’s unifying, wildly popular national treasure. There’s clearly much riding on the Super League, and Pakistan is keen to infuse it with as much prestige as possible.

And that, unlike discussions of, say, stumps and tailenders, is something I can truly understand.

The author is the Senior Program Associate for South Asia at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars in Washington, DC. You can reach him at michael.kugelman@wilsoncenter.org

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

The likes of the Akmal brothers, Junaid Khan, Tanvir Ahmed and Awais Zia, who have all represented the country at the highest level, were in full flow as they annihilated India in a group game on the first day of Hong Kong sixes that coincided with Eid in Pakistan.

However, there were hardly any celebrations, even our oft ‘over the top’ electronic media barely stayed on the story, and it was pretty obvious why. The humbled Indian team was merely club-level. Shafiq Khan, Amit Uniyal, Vikram Dhariwal, Dharmendar Phagna etc, names that even the Indian cricket audience would struggle to recognize.

In fact some of them have not even featured in Indian first class cricket! No wonder that Pakistan’s star studded team made an easy meal out of them (albeit within a day we crashed to a final defeat to South Africa).

The Indian team aside, even the rest of the major cricketing nations like Australia, Sri Lanka, South Africa and England chose to send at most three international players in the team, barring Chamara Kapugedra and Wayne Parnell none of the players from these teams are part of the first string of their respective nations.

Other than the Akmal brothers (easily the most high profile duo in the tournament) the entire Pakistani outfit included international players! Word is that Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) is the only major cricketing board that selects a team for this event, the rest of the teams sent are at best a composition of first class cricketers, junior players or spent forces.

This has been the case for the last few years. The tournament that was initiated in 1992 did feature some of the stars of the game back then and that was the trend until the turn of the century.

However, with the advent of T20 and the growing demands of the international cricketing calendar took the shine off the competition and most of the major nations withdrew their stars from the tournament that has been an annual two-day event since its debut.

A closer look at the format and the use of a matting wicket is enough for one to understand the lack of interest from other cricketing boards. A five-over-a- side tournament is nothing more than an exhibition that just cannot be taken seriously.

It does nothing to enhance the skills of the batsman or the bowler; the boundaries are barely 45 yards on all sides. The already hampered bowlers are further burdened by being forced to shorten their run-ups.

Some cricketing pundits are of the opinion that PCB has keen interest in the tournament as it gives them a great opportunity of winning a title and silencing its critics. One can only laugh at such a suggestion and on a serious note hope that the officials at the helm noticed the lukewarm response of the cricket-mad population this year.

Perhaps a veteran side comprising of past stars of the game is the best bet for this and hopefully, the PCB would follow the example of others and not send players involved in cricket at the highest level at such events. The sight of Junaid Khan jarring his knee into the Kowloon Cricket Club outfield, but thankfully escaping a season-ending injury, should provide for a warning of sorts as well.

Many cricket fanatics would love to see stalwarts like Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis, Ijaz Ahmed or Moin Khan thrashing it out at the Hong Kong Sixes, and this would surely bring a genuine smile to our faces, a broader one than defeating a club-level Indian team did.

Emmad Hameed has resigned to the fact that this life will be spent writing about something he has eaten, dreamt and slept for allof his existence: Cricket.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

It’s hard to be a fan of Pakistan cricket; hard because of how often we are burned. Every match we wonder about spot fixing, at award ceremonies our talent is often overlooked and on an international level, we are often scorned for not being safe enough to host tournaments. Despite that, we love the game and all that it brings with it – cricket unites, it heals, it pieces a self-destructing country back together. Such is the power of cricket and few should underestimate it.

At the first exhibition match, the crowds came in droves. These were the fans who cried when the Sri Lankans were shot at in 2009, when we were shamed with spot fixing, when we did not win the 2011 World Cup, these were the fans who prayed for a miracle for cricket to return once again to the country and there they were to support it.

Green wigs, angry aunties, dusty broken chairs and the relentless enthusiasm and energy of the crowd brought the stadium back to life. What ensued on the field was greatly appreciated by the masses and it was easy to get swept away in the madness and frenzy that a stadium brings. Jazba junoon was played at every boundary and every wicket was ooh-ed and aah-ed.

We are a country with very few heroes and even fewer accolades to our name in recent times. I saw a city alive and kicking, I saw children with painted faces who were reciting stats on every player that walked on to the field; I saw families and women and older men in their 70s, all enthralled with the sheer joy and disbelief that a match was being played right before their eyes. There is history in those seats, records have been created on that pitch, beautiful memories have been made – you don’t need to be an avid cricket fan to realise how much cricket means to the people here. I literally skipped my way through the gate, the sign was lit up with the Pakistan star and I walked in, tears in my eyes, hoping and praying that the match goes well.

They say you never forget your first love, it seems 30,000 people also fell in love with cricket the way I did. We wear our emotions on our sleeve and no matter how many times our heart is broken, we cannot let go. International World XI, I salute you for taking a chance and believing in us – it means more than you can even imagine. Thank you for giving us a reason to celebrate, and giving the people of Pakistan hope. There is no greater feeling than watching a match on a home ground, there is passion and pure love and a unity unmatchable, cricket you are a love like no other; National Stadium, we shall meet again, I am sure of it.

Hadeel Obaid is a patriotic Pakistani and an avid cricket fan with the ultimate goal to be chairman of the PCB one day.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

There is no black-and-white solution to this problem, as has been made out in the aftermath of Pakistan’s exit. Spare a thought for Mohammad Hafeez, probably the side’s steadiest all-rounder – in this tournament, he led both Pakistan’s run charts and wicket tallies – who is now being flayed by former cricketers who imagine that they had done better in their time. Razzaq’s bitterly sarcastic remarks upon arrival in Pakistan, where he claimed that Hafeez had single-mindedly changed a winning combination and supposed himself a better tactician than a number of more accomplished advisors, will do nothing to help the embattled captain.

At the same time, it has to be said that in the past decade, no player has spent more time on the sidelines or in the dressing room than Razzaq. Pakistan does not have a more sidelined senior player. Part of this comes down to the player’s role in the side – as a merchant of slow, accurate cutters that, if not as quick as they were in his youth, retain a militarily discipline and economy, and as a fierce late-order hitter with the versatility either to lash out at the end of an innings or patch up a stumbling innings – he can be easily overlooked. Similarly, as one of the side’s quieter, more staid personalities – in contrast to the gregarious and charismatic Shahid Afridi, for instance, whose exclusion would raise a whirlwind of a backlash – he is an easier prospect for a captain to overlook if changes need be made to the side.

Consider the semifinal: Hafeez wanted Sohail Tanvir as an additional bowler in the squad, which is a fair enough call for a captain against Sri Lanka’s lineup. Tanvir’s fine record against the side most definitely helped but rather than replacing one of the underachieving batsmen – including the palpably out-of-form Afridi, Shoaib Malik or Kamran Akmal, each of whom holds more leverage as a more dominant and difficult personality – he omitted Razzaq. This, despite the man’s distinguished record with the ball in similar conditions over six separate visits (2000, 2003, 2004, 2006, 2009, and 2010). Never mind the fact that in his only outing this time around he had done a better job, with a swift 22 on a sluggish pitch, than the aforementioned players had. Never mind, either, that his Twenty20 record with the ball is as good (indeed slightly better) as his replacement’s.

This is not a new phenomenon.When a captain is looking to experiment – as the ambitious and possibly eager Hafeez has since taking over – Razzaq has been an easy player to brush aside in the past three years regardless of performance. He neither boasts the fan following, and subsequent leverage, of Afridi; nor does he wield Malik’s supposed expertise – which has vanished in the past year – as a middle-order accumulator; nor does he have the same sort of monopoly over a spot that Kamran, a vastly regressed keeper whose talent with the bat disappeared throughout this tournament, has over the important keeper’s slot. He simply has a long pedigree in salvaging difficult causes with bat and ball.

This is by no means specific to the now veteran player, of course. Other steady but overlooked performers include Rao Iftikhar Anjum, Kamran Hussain, Sarfraz Ahmed, Fawad Alam – even Waqar Younis and Mohammad Yousuf were strangely sidelined in their final few years, despite magnificent records with ball and bat respectively. But it is also a tactical oversight; Pakistan’s abuse of the seam-bowling all-rounder’s spot has been more of a reactionary oversight in the past fifteen years than a necessarily intentional move. Azhar Mahmood, Yasir Arafat and young Hammad Azam often had to wait until others failed or struggled before they were given an opportunity, either with bat or ball; the much-maligned Arafat, indeed, was another victim of poor management in this tournament, where he took five wickets at 14.60, out-bowling the likes of Umar Gul and Tanvir, and yet lost his place.

But none of these players have the prowess or experience that Razzaq has in this role, despite having maintained it for the better part of the decade without any assurance or security over his role in the side. An outburst, in the piquant disappointment of what he obviously felt was a lost match where his skills could have come in handy, was understandable. Razzaq’s eventual swipe at Hafeez was wrong, an indefensible snap from a rank-and-filer to his captain – but it also showed that, rightly or wrongly, the veteran all-rounder did not feel he could raise this question to the management in the dressing-room during the tournament. This is only vindicated by the same management’s failure to critique more popular, but under-performing, players for their failures.

The problem here is not whether Hafeez was right or wrong in selecting Tanvir for the semifinal. Hindsight, indeed, shows that it was a brave call. It does not even matter whether it was a unilateral call from the captain or a collective decision by the management. In any case, a newish captain should not be blamed for taking a bold decision.

The question these turn of events raises is why some players, some roles, are so easily marginalized and overlooked, and why others retain their spots with impunity, regardless of performance in what is meant to be a professional setup.

Ibrahim Moiz is a student at the University of Toronto who spends more time writing about the game than watching it.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

Photo Credit: Shoaib Tariq

Sports is a pretty decent profession, and not just because it is the most profitable cocktail of play and work. It pays well, keeps fit, doesn’t require any education, and offers plenty of opportunities to shine. Professionalism in sports is defined as ‘all play and no work’. Sounds like the ideal choice of profession for young people with ambition and vigour.  And yet, millions of children in Pakistan are wasting their time in school, running chores for the school master, or his wife, simply because our society has no sporting culture.

The early schooling system keeps churning out losers, year after year, because we have no education culture either, and also because we keep inducting losers as teachers, year after year. Kids who have it in them, prefer being out playing under a burning sun supervised by a mad street coach, over learning the 10 points of a pre-partition resolution, carefully separating them from the 14 points of an Indian leader, and comparing them with the 20 points of a viceroy. And then wondering if there is any point to it, since thousands of classrooms are searching for an answer everyone already knows: that we are good and others have been bad to us, that our struggles have been legitimate, our oppressors were in the wrong, and we are now in the right hands. Pak sar zameen shadbad.

The scrawny youth whose exposed skin has turned polished bronze, on the other hand, is learning the real life skills in the shabby grounds that double as neighbourhood waste dumps. He or she may not be able to solve a basic trigonometry problem but they are generally healthier and happier than those who can. And if they have hunger for reaching the next level, perseverance, eagerness to learn, and can persuade their parents that one day they’ll start earning and when they do, it’ll be quite a handful, they turn into the Hafeezes, Afridis and Razzaqs, as we know them. They are totally self-made.

Very few get into the top club at an early age, like Raza Hasan did. A majority has to rough it out for a long time before they get their chance, like Misbah and Ajmal did. Some get a big break and then squander it childishly, like Mohammed Asif and Mohammed Amir did. And some never make it big and instead take to criticising those who do, like Rameez Raja does.

The dashing men we see sporting Pakistan colours today are the little boys who begged older bhaijans to have a chance with the bat and ball while playing street cricket, they borrowed money and gear to play at club level, and they stole Sunday mornings and week day afternoons throughout their youth to practice and be good at the only thing they wanted to do in life: play. Unlike other boys their age, they missed out on unhealthy food, alcohol and drugs, hanging with friends and doing motorcycle stunts all night, being lazy, and being a good student, because they were consumed by sport.

But we – the passive sports watchers, the active critics, and the extremist fans – tend not to see the little boy in them when they put on the green jerseys and jog into the field to compete with another team. Instead, we turn them into mascots of our collective ego and demand the impossible of them – to play well every time and to win every game, particularly against India. There are things like playing conditions, the form of a player, morale of a team, administrative support or the lack of it, psychological strengths and weaknesses, personal circumstances, coaching issues … that we do not want to concern ourselves with.

The so-called fans set winning or losing as the yard stick, and care the least if every player put in the their best in a match they lost, or won a match on a fluke despite being mediocre. We, as a nation or community, do nothing to make or encourage sportsmen but we are always eager to break and discourage them when we have an opportunity. When the team loses we get angry, we feel hurt, and get personal in our attacks on players and the team management.

What we do not want to see or hear about is that the cricket board isn’t really trying to kill cricket; the selectors have their reasons to pick and drop players; the captains have to make decisions on the field, and their objective is not to lose the game; players go out to get runs and wickets not to be overrun by the opposition … that cricket is still largely a game of chance. Bad things happen, and they happen to the best of teams. Look at the way the mighty Australians were routed in the last two games in the World T20 in Colombo. And we may not remember that it was Pakistan that exposed Australia’s weaknesses and gave them their first beating in the Super Eights.

Maybe the biggest problem facing Pakistan cricket is not the cricket establishment and players but Pakistani cricket fans and their expectations. They have consistently preferred flair over competence, style over content, grandstanding over humility, and ghairat over strategy. And they always tend to see their team as outside and above our society and its peculiarities.

We have governance issues in every aspect of our society but we want the PCB to be professionally run. We loathe discipline in our daily lives but demand that the team be disciplined on and off the field. We have corruption running through our veins, yet we feign horror and disgust every time our players are caught red handed. We are people with few rights, little dignity and no resolve to fight with the oppressors within us, but we expect our team to fight bravely and prevail against all odds. We are confused and depressed as a nation and can’t see the way forward despite a crowd of political, religious and social leaders shining flashlights, but we expect our team to clearly see a turning ball in low-light conditions.

If you are not one of the above-mentioned fans, let’s join hands to let the Pakistan cricket team know we are proud of the fact they made it to the semifinals again. We are thankful for the pleasure of watching good cricket provided by them. We are mindful of the strains of always playing outside of Pakistan, away from their families, for the past five years or so and appreciate the spirit in which they’ve handled the pressure and still managed to thrive on several occasions. And we are saddened by the lack of form some players found themselves in throughout the tournament, and hope the team and management will work on the weaknesses before we step out for the next competition.

Masud Alam is an Islamabad-based writer, columnist and journalism trainer. He can be reached at masudalam@yahoo.com

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

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Hello once again to all my readers.

With the onset of the Domestic First Class Season coinciding with that of my University, I’ve had quite a bit on my plate recently in regards to working on my game plus my academic schedule. Yet the positive response garnered from my first piece has encouraged me to write a second.

After the heartache suffered by our young guns in the U19 world cup, we switch our focus to the T20 World Cup as the nation gets enveloped in a cricket frenzy. There has been some talk off late about the youth in Pakistan cricket and their development in regards to making the national team. Keeping that in mind, I am going to discuss how a young cricketer makes his journey from the U19 setup to the biggest stage.

Very rarely does a cricketer transition from the youth level to the national team without the vital platform provided by the U-19 team. Even the biggest stars of the game such as Alaistair Cook, Michael Clarke, Hashim Amla, have represented their country at an U19 World Cup.  Our own list of graduates includes Nasir Jamshed,  Imran Nazir, Kamran  Akmal, Umar Akmal, Abdur Razzaq, Umar Gul, and Shoaib Malik to name a few. However, it would be a mistake to consider the U19 ticket as a guarantee for top flight cricket or even a direct step to make it to the national team. Much hard work lies ahead. In fact, the only player in recent memory to make the direct jump was Hammad Azam.

Followers of the game will be wondering what lies ahead for the promising individuals after this year’s World Cup. It’s a scenario I was faced with after the conclusion of the U19 World Cup in 2008. My teammates and I all faced the same questions. Who will we play first class for? Will we be able to make the jump up to the senior team? We weren’t just competing with our own age group anymore. We were going to be competing with the best Pakistan had to offer.

Whereas I chose a different path of going to boarding school in England to complete my A-levels, my teammates went on to play first-class cricket and today, six of them, Umar Akmal, Ahmad Shehzad, Umar Amin, Mohammad Amir, Umar Amin and Usman Salahuddin, have already represented the national team.

However, despite missing out on the momentum the U19 stage provides, I have no regrets about skipping that year. Hopefully, my destination will be the same albeit at a later date. That one year proved invaluable as I managed to get straight A’s, gain admission into one of the top universities in the UK and crucially equip my game to perform in foreign conditions which I hope will help me in the future. My school provided me a stage to achieve the rare feat of being an educated Pakistani cricketer.  School cricket in England is a big deal and my performances earned me recognition in the Wisden Book of 2009 as the top ‘Schoolboy batsman’ which was matched up to that of stars such as Nasser Hussain and Alaistair Cook.

However, my return to Pakistan brought with it the harsh reality of the difference a year out can make. Not only was the impetus provided by the U19 stage lost, I was a forgotten name. I had to grind it out and it took me seven matches on the bench before I was handed my debut for HBL, and it took a match saving 70 in hostile conditions against SNGPL to prove to not only others but myself that I belonged there . Even after that, it took two solid seasons to get a Pakistan ‘A’ cap, following which impressive performances in the finals of the Quaid-e-Azam Trophy and the One-Day Cup earned me more ‘A’ team caps and recognition. Recently with another season of almost a 1000 runs under my belt, I’ve been under the selectors radar for some time.

The journey’s been tough, but it’s tougher for some of the others. Some fail to get games after the U19 level and fade into the abyss.  Far too often, players with promise become just a memory as they fail to make the step up to the senior level.  However, it is not something restricted to Pakistan, it’s prevalent in all the cricket nations. It would be wrong to criticize us for not giving a chance to enough U19 players. People often point to Virat Kohli as an example of India providing its youngsters with chances.  I’d like to remind everyone that Kohli played in the same World Cup as I did and only two from his Indian team went on to play for the national team, whereas six of our own made the step up. In fact from the last 5 world cups, 31 Pakistan U19 players have gone on to play for the national team which is more than any other test playing nation.

Recently, there has been a greater number of U19 players going on to represent their respective countries, benefiting  from television coverage of the world cups and the increasing number of ‘A’ team cricket. The ‘A’ team provides for smooth transition from the U19s to one of the senior team. Hopefully, the PCB will arrange for more of these ‘A’ tours on a regular basis as it helps to nurture our talent at an international stage.

Hence, we can conclude the U19 provides a stepping stone for a cricketer but it’s not a straight path from there. Many twists and turns engulf the path ahead and it takes a lot of hard work and performances in First Class to avoid becoming lost in a sea of players and get the nod for Pakistan.  But the benefits of U19 cricket are evident as you tour different countries, play in different conditions and get a taste of what’s waiting for you if you work hard enough to represent the national team.

I’ve got a long first class season ahead of me which I also consider to be the most important one in my career. Hopefully, some good performances can bring me closer to my dream.

I’ll make sure to write while on tour but until then take care and Allah Hafiz.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.

That afternoon now seems ages ago. Recently, the all-rounder has looked as if he is just going through his paces, first against the Australians in the UAE, and now against the Indians in the warm up to the World T20. To the casual eye, it may seem like Afridi is just ‘sad’ like Ronaldo. But there is a genuine problem that is affecting his performance.

The 2009 conquering of the Proteas saw Afridi at the peak of his powers. He had been talking about concentrating on his bowling for a long time, but it was only the winter prior to that gargantuan effort at the World T20 that he actually put in the hard yards. He worked with the spin maestro Abdul Qadir, and finally figured out the textbook metric for his bowling. Understanding his own strengths, he perfected the pace of his variations (mainly slowing down his leg spinners to allow flight and gravity to play their parts). He had found his zone and seldom did you see him leave it over the two years that followed.

Afridi had discovered what every spinner, especially a legspinner, yearns for throughout his career— drift.

The perils of imitating Shane Warne

Drift is what has separated the respectable from the prodigious over the years. You can beat any ordinary batsman with mere sideways turn, but to beat the best you often need that drift to sway your way. After all, it wasn’t Shane Warne’s square turn that beat Mike Gatting in the summer of 93’ (a player of spin of his caliber could have accounted for that), but it was the drift into him, before the pitch of the delivery, that made the ball almost impossible to play.

Given the angled position of the seam in respect to the axis of rotation and the dynamic direction of the ball’s path through a delivery’s flight, drift is a natural component that comes with any form of wrist spin. This is due to what is scientifically termed the Magnus effect (a slightly complex physical concept dealing with spherical rotations in wind tunnels)*.

But what is of course harder to achieve and carry out consistently is sufficient enough drift to make the batsman think twice, and sow that seed of doubt in his mind.  This “magnitude” of drift can be linked to two basic things; the spinner’s swivel (pivot) and the amount of work done on the ball at release (rotations, commonly misrepresented as revolutions on the ball during commentary).

Those familiar with the basics of spin will know that it is the pivot off the leading foot, and the quick rotation of the plane of your backside (up to 120° for leggies), along with the rotations imparted by the hand that determines the spin on the ball. The quicker the pivot or shift in momentum, the more spin the bowler is able to generate, and the easier it becomes for him to impart rotations at the time of release. It’s these rapid rotations (off spinners range between 25-35 rps, while leg spinners range between 35-45rps) that allow the ball to dip quickly after attaining maximum height, and drift in before turning in the opposite direction.

Contrary to the more obvious notion that the amount of turn and bounce determine a spinner’s threat (important as they are), nothing beats the elusive effect of a slant against the normal trajectory of the ball that makes the batsman doubt himself. It is that doubt which made Afridi’s chest puff out three summers past in Nottingham, and helped him reap the rewards in the two years that followed. It is that doubt which made him the best bowler in the 2011 World Cup and allowed him to pounce on his prey, while it deliberated between lurching forwards or perching backwards. Sadly though, for Pakistan, in the period after the World Cup (in which he has averaged an abysmal forty-one with the ball in ODIs against non-minnow sides), it is also that very same doubt which eludes his more accomplished adversaries every time Afridi hurls the ball at them.

The back, due to its pronounced swivel during the spinner’s pivot (as explained) is of greatest importance when it comes to creating drift. It is the major reason why Afridi’s potency has seen a downward trend over the last year or so. The all-rounder has been sporting niggles in his back and side for quite some time now (the keener observers might have picked up on it while seeing him do his normal ground fielding). His aerial catching, diving and throwing (all aspects that keep the back in one plane) remain impressive, but the veteran star is often reluctant when he has to bend down to pick up the simpler rolling ball.

Afridi certainly hasn’t helped his cause. By opting to play in almost every single T20 league open to him, he has not only humoured those niggles, but also allowed them to develop into what now looks like a full-fledged hindrance to his bowling.

It will take the bravest of captains to ever risk resting Afridi, not only is he the talisman of the team, but the surfaces in Sri Lanka (especially in Colombo) are ideal for his style of bowling. However, his absence might not be a confirmed death knell for Hafeez’s men. They do have an able replacement in Raza Hassan. But it it will be unfair to shun the kid into the spotlight during the pressure stages. Going into a major tournament with a back problem for a leg-spinner should be an instinctive no! But when that spinner is Afridi, no one really knows which instinct is at play. Maybe it’s time Pakistan’s gun player looks in the mirror and decides if he can still spot the Prince of Nottingham within.

*Those interested in reading up on the physics of drift should consult the late Bob Woolmer’s Art and Science of Cricket.

A cricket nut since Aqib Javed’s bucket hair style and Wasim bhai’s poetic action took his fancy, the writer, fit only for a slogger is pretending to be a top order bat Down Under and blogs here.

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.