The Pakistan cricket team walks the distance between the sublime and pedestrian.
About three weeks ago, Salman Butt, Pakistan’s left-handed opening batsman found himself in unfamiliar territory. With Shahid Afridi, Pakistan cricket’s enigma extraordinaire, deciding to quit Test cricket after Pakistan’s crushing loss at the hands of Australia at Lord’s, Butt was handed charge of the Pakistan cricket team. Yet, a little over a week into his captaincy tenure, Butt was to confront an even more unfamiliar situation, as Pakistan recorded its first ever Test victory against Australia in 15 years. And like a man unable to explain the logic behind a miracle, Butt put the onus of the victory on the Almighty by saying, “Thank God we won.”
That dedication on Butt’s part seemed the most appropriate thing to do, for in a week’s time, by August 1, Pakistan had effortlessly walked the distance between sublime and pedestrian by losing the first Test to England by a whopping 354 runs. The repercussions of that loss were immediate. Mohammad Yousuf, a man out of favour with Pakistan Cricket Board since March this year, suddenly found himself being summoned to England as the answer to all of Pakistan’s batting woes. This despite the team being most reluctant to have the veteran back in the thick of things. To make matters worse, PCB chairman Ijaz Butt denied taking the decision to call back Yousuf, and confusion reigned over who had asked Yousuf to return to the squad in the first place.
It is this sequence of events, then, that tells the most bizarre tale about Pakistan cricket. That its bowlers, with Mohammad Aamer and Mohammad Asif opening the attack, represent one of the most potent bowling combinations in Test cricket today. Indeed, between them, the two Ms have taken 32 wickets in the three Tests Pakistan has played in this English summer. That their batsmen failed to take the team past 300 runs in any of the six innings they have played. Umar Akmal, hailed as Pakistan’s next batting sensation, with 64 runs in six outings , mirrors the team’s woeful form with the bat. That its administrators continue to act in a way that makes Frank Spencer, the protagonist from Some Mothers Do ’Ave ’Em, look like an intellectual in comparison. What else can explain the ad hoc selection of Yousuf when it was decided, earlier in the year, that Yousuf “should not be part of national team in any format” in view of “infighting which resulted in bringing down the whole team”.
And it is in this precise state of affairs with Pakistan cricket that we find the most contemporary retelling of Sergio Leone’s 1966 classic, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. It is what led a columnist to write on ESPNcricinfo, “Here is how I see Pakistani cricket: They practice batting by hitting each other with a bat. They test the quality of the ball by biting into it. They practice fielding like dogs trying to chase their own tails. They practice giving press conferences by repeatedly saying that they are... through with their careers and still coming back. And through all this — they also manage to win.”
Test cricket needs a strong Pakistani cricketing outfit that, as a sum of its bowling and batting departments, and guided by an able administrative setup, presents a more formidable and consistent challenge to the other Test-playing nations. But if the events of the past month, best described as a case of one step forward and two steps back, continue to characterise Pakistan cricket then the day is not far when we shall sadly see one of the most glorious chapters in the history of cricket drawing to a close.