As he describes his passage through hell, Dante Alighieri states in the Inferno that its keepers were kind enough to inscribe on its gates a helpful message: abandon all hope ye who enter here.

There was no such warning for Pakistan when they went to the World Cup, quite the opposite in fact. Skipper Babar Azam was bullish when he was asked about Pakistan’s chances of reaching the semis before the World Cup. “Top four?” he had responded with a tongue-in-cheek grin, “We can go all the way.”

As the captain of the side, that is what he is expected to say and what his players would have liked to hear, but both Babar and the men who follow him would have known deep down that they cross the Wagah Border as doomed men.

To take on the world’s best is by definition a Herculean task in itself. To take them on in unknown waters without arguably your biggest weapon in Naseem Shah in conditions that accentuate your weaknesses and nullify your strengths is to walk to your own slaughter. But the Pakistan team is defiant, and it is gutsy, even when it is not much else, and it is typically Pakistan of them to insist that if anyone will defeat them then it will be they themselves who do so.

The tournament had started off well enough, with two wins in two games against Netherlands and Sri Lanka, but Pakistan’s campaign is now threatening to derail in alarming fashion.

And while the defeat to India was easier to take, if not because of the identity of the opposition then because of the clear gulf in class that exists between the two sides, the defeat to Australia was so frustratingly self-inflicted, so frustratingly Pakistan.

Pakistan’s best all-round options in Shadab Khan and Muhammad Nawaz — let’s pretend that Imad Wasim doesn’t exist because those who make the decisions clearly do the same — have been having a difficult year. Both men are considered all-rounders despite scoring one half-century between them since 2018. If we weren’t pretending Imad doesn’t exist, then it would be quite uncomfortable to see that he has twice as many half-centuries in the same period despite not playing since 2020.

More damningly, Shadab and Nawaz have struggled with the ball as well. Shadab has been averaging 42.6 in 2023 but even that embarrassing number looks impressive when compared to Nawaz’s 2023 average of 52. So, Pakistan’s two all-rounders average less than 20 with the bat and over 40 and 50 respectively with the ball. In other words, they have been doing jack all.

Usama Mir was, therefore, brought into the side, at Shadab’s expense because Nawaz has somehow made making no significant contributions a signature party trick that the team’s think-tank just cannot get enough of.

It was so typically Pakistan that when David Warner — who had scored three consecutive centuries against Pakistan — skied the ball into the air it was Usama, replacing by far Pakistan’s best fielder in the side, who settled under it. Settled is a generous term because Usama merely existed in that general vicinity and somehow managed to chest the ball down instead of getting any hand on it. From there on, the carnage was as predictable as that catch attempt was laughable.

It was also so typically Pakistan that Usama, who was in the side because Shadab had been proving too expensive, went for 1-82 in nine overs — more runs than Shadab has ever given in an ODI game.

It was also so typically Pakistan that Nawaz, who again contributed little with bat and ball, may continue to escape the axe simply because he wasn’t the worst batsman or bowler in the side.

The only silver-lining of an innings in which Pakistan conceded 367 was the return to form of Shaheen Shah Afridi, who took 5-54 and should have had even more on a terribly difficult track.

It was quite typically Pakistan that before this game their best fast-bowler had been Hasan Ali, who was perhaps their seventh choice pacer before the World Cup, and their best spinner has been Iftikhar Ahmed, who himself may not count bowling as part of his day job.

But before we flog these men too hard, let’s not forget that they are journeying through the seven circles of hell itself. These conditions are as ill-suited to Pakistan as conditions can be. The tracks either favour the spinners or the batsmen, which has served to expose the side’s spin attack and brittle middle-order.

The form of Abdullah Shafique, who has replaced Fakhar Zaman superbly, gives Pakistan fans some cause for hope, even when all should have been abandoned. Saud Shakeel can either become the finisher and middle-order enforcer that Pakistan have been crying out for so long or he can go down the Haris Sohail route of scoring pretty and easy-on-the-eye scores of 30 before failing to finish the game.

A lot still depends on the side’s three clear superstars though.

Muhammad Rizwan is doing Muhammad Rizwan things and is now the tournament’s top-scorer. Shaheen is showing signs of regaining the form that has eluded him since his injury, pulling his length back earlier to prove he is no one-trick pony. Babar, purely because he is Babar, will eventually come good despite currently going through his worst form in over five years. With these three firing, Pakistan can still make a fist of this even if things look much bleaker now than they did after the first two games.

This World Cup is almost certain to be an exercise in futility for Pakistan and there is more than a compelling argument to be made to mentally write off this campaign already. But to all fellow Pakistan fans who are frustrated by Pakistan always being so typically Pakistan, there is another message from Dante: “Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”