For the generation that did not see Abdul Qadir bowl
When Abdul Qadir bowled his last for Pakistan, I wasn’t around.
As a 90s kid, I know what his protege Mushtaq Ahmed was like, especially in England. I know what Shane Warne was like, especially everywhere. Anil Kumble showed me something different. I lived through Danish Kaneria. Yasir Shah gave me a new lease of life, and now I live for Shadab Khan.
But Qadir, I never saw.
Adding to my sense of deprivation all those years were my pre-90s uncles, who would take out their Qadir-long yardsticks every time a bowler bowled with a pronated hand.
“He is good, but Abdul Qadir was better. He is almost as good as Abdul Qadir. If he keeps doing this, then one day he might surpass Abdul Qadir,” is what I had to endure when spin-bowlers would appear on TV screens.
When or where there was a leg-spinner, there was a Qadir mention.
Qadir this, Qadir that. Qadir what? I had little idea. And I could only go so far animating an image from a limited supply of grainy YouTube videos and stats — stats that may quantify talent, but also reduce its je ne sais quoi to mere numbers.
So I had to dig a little, do my research and devour back-in-the-day tales to find out why Qadir had the reputation he had. Without turning this into a fluff tribute for a man whom I never saw and is no longer among us, here's an objective review of Qadir’s career.