Late last Sunday as the spectators filtered out of the Sharjah Cricket Stadium, Shahid Afridi had a quiet moment to reflect on his day’s work which saw him single-handedly steer his team to an unlikely victory in the fourth ODI against Sri Lanka, clinching the series in the process. By his own reckoning, Afridi placed his performance within a specific context – that of a man who had something to prove.

As far as summations go, he couldn’t have got it more wrong.

At this stage in his career, Shahid Afridi is way beyond proving his worth to any team containing 10 men who play around him. Afridi’s particular qualities have always been difficult to define or quantify in simple words or figures, even though enough evidence exists in either form to attempt such a valuation. However, an appraisal based on objective parameters such as number of wickets taken in ODIs (he is number 9 on the all-time list) does not do justice to the entire Afridi package.

What separates Afridi from the Darren Bravos, Shane Watsons and Albie Morkels of the game is his unique ability to impose his personality on the game. And, oh, what a personality it is. A glorious blend of irrationality, manic intensity, fierce competitiveness and infectious enthusiasm. All those ingredients shouldn’t make for a happy mixture but, in Afridi’s particular pot, they come together like a fine stew which constitutes a crucial element of the diet of Pakistan cricket.

Pakistan’s semi-final berth at the World Cup was directly attributable to the sheer weight of Afridi’s character as he hauled a team featuring a misfiring batting line-up to the brink of the finals. He did this not by setting particularly astute fields or spending countless hours pouring over video footage of his opponents and discussing the finer points of strategy with Waqar Younis. All the best-laid plans and tactic go to hell when you are staring defeat in the face against Canada or are being taken down to the wire by the host country in their own backyard. In those moments no amount of strategising and planning can prepare you. What you need is a burst of inspiration and momentum, and Afridi finds a way to create that out of thin air. Perhaps a handful of players on the international circuit are capable of that x-factor. None of them executes it with the scintillating flair of Afridi.

Which begs the question of why Afridi would feel he needs to prove anything and who was he trying to prove it to? Did he think that we might have forgotten what he means to Pakistan cricket? Unlikely. Perhaps the administrators had made him doubt whether his skills were actually all that vital to Pakistan cricket. Perhaps he felt he had to reaffirm his dedication after having his commitment called into question by the PCB mere weeks after guiding his country to an unfathomable position.

Whatever the reason, the fact that Afridi still feels he had to prove a point is a sad reminder of the contentious circumstances in which he left, as well as part of a long-established narrative of great Pakistan cricketers who (sometimes correctly) perceive that despite their services to their team and country they never received the appropriate level of respect from either the fan or the administrator. In Afridi’s case, it is the latter and one can only hope that successive administrations don’t misinterpret Afridi’s fiercely emotional approach for arrogance or indiscipline on his part.

Afridi’s greatest strength is his hyper passionate methodology which drives all his decision-making. Rather than neuter this kinetic energy the team is better served by channeling it. This will be one of the key challenges of Misbah-ul-Haq’s captaincy tenure in the ODI and Twenty20 sphere and, thankfully, it appears that his passivity might be the ideal counterpart to Afridi’s vibrancy.

When Afridi is on one of his rolls he is, in his mind, the de-facto captain of the team regardless of his magnanimous statements towards Misbah later on. Shouting orders and gesticulating wildly, he commands the stage and chews the scenery as he goes about orchestrating his theatre. The risk of interfering with this delusion is that you might derail a potentially epic production. Misbah will have to learn to keep Afridi on a fairly long leash and ensure that Afridi never feels he has to tug unless it is absolutely necessary. This would in turn require Misbah to step back and let Afridi take center-stage during his bursts of inspiration. Selfless leadership of that magnitude requires a psychologically secure leader free of any Machiavellian inclinations and, in Misbah, we may have someone whose ego would not drive him to undercut that of Afridi’s.

If Misbah can maintain a measured aloofness with respect to Afridi, we may have a perfect partnership between captain and player which would have seemed unthinkable a few months back when Misbah took Afridi’s place as captain of the limited over squads. All Misbah would have to do once Afridi’s senses are triggered is to sit back and give his prize stallion enough space to flex his legs. Not everyone deserves that sort of indulgence. But if there is one thing Afridi has proven is that he is not just anyone.