Kamran Abbasi
Who'll bring Pakistan back to financial health?
The PCB has ensured itself some financial security by agreeing to the ICC revamp, but it's unlikely the money will go towards securing the future of the country's cricket
Kamran Abbasi
18-Apr-2014
Risk management, ever heard of it? If you have, you are probably wiser than Najam Sethi and his Pakistan Cricket Board. The board earned some praise for its initial stand against the Big Three coup by India, Australia and England. There was even a sense of admiration: international cricket's most beleaguered country defiant against the game's richest and most powerful. We all love an underdog, don't we? It's no surprise that the PCB has now fallen in line, but this week's explanation betrays a great malaise at the heart of Pakistan's cricket administration.
We can't afford to miss out on the money, says Sethi. All US$310m of it. Our survival depends on major international fixtures, says Sethi. Bilateral ties against India are a major chunk of it, says Sethi, positioning himself as a pragmatic man of principle. He talks a lot. Talk of equality, the glaring omission in the Big Three's plans, has disappeared. The Big Three did make some concessions but not much has changed in terms of equality. Pakistan was isolated, no international team would arrange a fixture against them for fear of damaging its own interests. No broadcaster was willing to commit to Pakistan's future international programme, since there wasn't one. No television meant no money. No money meant no principles, just an embarrassed, pragmatic crawl back into the bosom of the Big Three.
It's hard to blame Sethi or his cricket board for seeking a pragmatic solution, and to be clear, it isn't a representative cricket board, it is his cricket board. No business can function without income. The big money does come from major international fixtures and tournaments. A bilateral series against India is clearly the most valuable. Pakistan, isolated because of security issues, requires all the help it can get.
Full postThe promise of Shehzad
He displays a hunger for runs that bodes well for his and Pakistan's future
Kamran Abbasi
31-Mar-2014
He cuts. He pulls. He drives. He nudges. He thrashes. And he keeps going. He even gifts his innings to the nation. Pakistan have what they have yearned for over a decade, an opener worthy of representing them in international cricket. The arrival of Ahmed Shehzad, long awaited and much enjoyed, is changing the dynamic of Pakistan cricket. If you're wondering why the never-ending winter of top-order failure and unpredictability has given way to an uplifting spring, thank the diminutive frame and abundant spunk of the amazing Mr Shehzad.
Now it's never sensible to exaggerate the exploits of any young player but Shehzad has passed two important tests of his credentials. One of my earliest memories of him is seeing him make something of a fool of himself on the winners' podium at the final of the World T20 in 2009.
Pakistan won in style. Shehzad tried to play the cool cat as he collected his medal. There was a cockiness about him that didn't fit with a player who hadn't yet achieved any personal success in international cricket. The boy had talent but it was no surprise, except to himself, when he was soon out of the team.
Full postPakistan's pace-bowling talent is dwindling
Fast bowlers always bailed the team out of trouble. But in this Asia Cup, we saw the trend reverse
Kamran Abbasi
14-Mar-2014
The batsmen performed. The bowlers didn't. That's an unusual post mortem for Pakistan in any series or tournament, but it is the atypical verdict that keeps recurring however you choose to dissect the Asia Cup. One tournament, on flat wickets with short boundaries, is dangerous to draw strong conclusions from. But an important underlying trend in recent years is the steady decline in Pakistan's bowling attack. For a country that stands on the shoulders of its bowling heroes this is sombre news.
Since the 1980s at least, high-class fast bowling has come naturally. When the chips are down, the bowlers, especially the fast bowlers, step up. Partly they have had to. Pakistan's batting has been so unreliable that the bowlers have grown familiar with defending small totals. Success has generally been achieved in alliance with quality spin bowlers, but pace bowling has been fundamental to Pakistan's competitiveness.
The loss of Mohammad Amir and Mohammad Asif in 2010 certainly hurt Pakistan, but Junaid Khan and Mohammad Irfan were once worthy replacements. Now, Irfan is unfit and Junaid is struggling for form. Umar Gul's powers have dwindled and Mohammad Talha is new to international cricket. In the Asia Cup, despite heroics from the batsmen and Saeed Ajmal, the pace bowling carried an unfamiliar ordinariness.
Full postLet's be honest about T20
The format generally, and the IPL particularly, is all about fun and entertainment. It isn't an exacting test of skill
Kamran Abbasi
24-Feb-2014
Without T20 cricket, would we have to contend with the monstrosity of the Big Three? The IPL has much to answer for. It's a money game but players tell us they prefer not to focus on the financial perks. Kevin Pietersen once claimed that India's T20 spectacle helped his game. The massive salary without doubt helped too. Now Mohammad Hafeez, a batsman of inferior quality but bearing similarities in frustration, has lamented the exclusion of Pakistan's cricketers. The IPL, he says, is a great arena to test and develop your skills.
In his defence, Hafeez needs help. His career reflects the modern state of Pakistan cricket. Bizarre selection, minimal development, and arguable progress. Aamer Sohail, the man who oversold Hafeez to a bewildered public in his first stint as chief selector lasted barely a week this time around. Hafeez's potential, if you believe he possesses it, has been trapped for a decade. If you haven't managed to deliver in that time, despite generous opportunities, the odds are stacked against you.
T20 cricket, the least challenging of cricket's disciplines, is unsurprisingly Hafeez's forte. No wonder he craves more. His wish to appear again in the IPL seems unlikely to be met. The tragedy of Hafeez may be that the hero inside himself never landed a leading role on the IPL stage.
Full postPakistan and the Big Three
Whether by circumstance or not, Pakistan is now one of the few voices of dissent against the restructuring of the ICC
Kamran Abbasi
05-Feb-2014
We all love a last stand, and Pakistan cricket has enjoyed a few. Inzamam-ul Haq and Mushtaq Ahmed nudged and scampered a final-wicket partnership of 57 to defeat Australia and win a Test series in 1994. Two years earlier, Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis stood firm to beat England at Lord's. Imran Khan was known for standing alone, defying fierce rivals from all nations.
I hark back to those times because the 1980s and 1990s saw a power shift in international cricket. The imperial rule of Australia and England, the Big Two, was challenged primarily by India - but with the support of Pakistan and others. The popularity and pull of the game in South Asia was irresistible. In those times, winning a Test match or series against the old powers was more than cricket. It was a blow for the disempowered in international cricket.
India, it seems ironic now, led the charge and clamour for equality in world cricket. A fair, representative, international cricket council was best for the transformation of the Commonwealth's game into a truly global sport. India needed its fellow rebels, the nations that are now cajoled, tempted and arm-twisted into compliance. Yet India quickly outgrew these allies. The biggest population, the fastest growing economy, and the most valuable television rights rendered any of its less powerful accomplices meaningless.
Full postMisbah's moment
The Sharjah chase was perhaps Pakistan's best ever, owing much to the collective spirit that the oft-vilified captain has nurtured
Kamran Abbasi
21-Jan-2014
Sometimes sportsmen defy expectations. When that happens, your heart leaps for joy and events on a field transcend the mundane routine of everyday existence. Such cheer is even possible on Blue Monday, the day designated by believers in scientific nonsense to be the most depressing day of the year. If anything, it was the build-up to this Blue Monday, and not the day itself, that killed the spirit. Sri Lanka, a nation of exuberant cricketers, chose a path of demoralisation, run rates below 2.5 an over threatened to suck all life from the final Test.
Perhaps Pakistan didn't like what they saw? Sri Lanka's dull beat was a reflection of the performances that have characterised Pakistan in these gruelling wilderness years. Gritty, pragmatic cricket has brought some measure of stability but frustrated supporters who seek a more daring team to follow, a captain to love. Misbah-ul Haq, Pakistan's admirably unflinching leader, is deemed to be the architect of this humdrum philosophy. Misbah is dismissed as a goat, a donkey, even a jackal, depending on which beast at the moment best represents a spineless creature.
Misbah is none of these. A lion's heart thuds inside his chest. An ice-cool brain governs his decisions. It takes guts to defy a nation pleading for instant thrills. It takes more guts to defy your own instincts, for Misbah is no plodder of a batsman. His T20 record dismisses that charge. His range of shots and intermittent spasms of aggression in Test cricket betray the art of a batsman of high order.
Full postA time for defiance and flair
There was a time when Pakistan masked ordinariness with defiance and flair. Now they are humbled and demoralised
Kamran Abbasi
12-Nov-2013
Pakistan feel humbled, demolished by mighty South Africa. They challenged us without Dale Steyn, Morne Morkel, or even Imran Tahir, a surprise star. But we were still demolished. And we are still humbled, as has become our custom.
Once, our teams made up for any lack of preparation, and the bumbling amateurism that bestrides Pakistan cricket, with a touch of flair and frequent flashes of defiance. This combination of defiance and flair carried them a long way. Yes, we possessed some brilliant players, but the more ordinary tended to mask their ordinariness with the aforementioned defiance and flair.
Now, we are a rump of humbled and demoralised cricketers. We don't have defiance or flair, and even if we do, we don't show it. We know it is the batsmen, those damned incompetents, who are to blame for this general demoralisation. They are so much to blame that even our once excellent bowlers are beginning to fray at the seams - and I don't mean ball-tampering. Their previous excellence is slowly succumbing to ordinariness. Who can blame them? Even the gods would be demoralised by the crapulence of our batsmen.
Full postPakistan's first-innings malaise
Over the last few years Pakistan's batting order as a whole has failed to respond to the challenge of batting first in an international match
Kamran Abbasi
31-Oct-2013
Zippergate, ball-tampering, whatever the crime, it doesn't explain 99 all out. Pakistan won the toss. It was a straightforward task to close out the Test series, wasn't it? It's what the coach expected. Dale Steyn struggled to be fit for the match. Imran Tahir had struggled to take any international wickets. Advantage Pakistan? Seemingly so, but that first innings of the match became a disaster; so great a failure that Dav Whatmore expressed his displeasure at the performance of his batsmen in the middle of the Test.
Now Pakistan have crumbled with victory imminent in the first one-day international. The basics of shot selection, playing straight, and managing a simple run chase evaporated into the Sharjah night.
I can't remember a time since the 1970s, when Pakistan were weakened by Kerry Packer, that the batsmen have seemed so vulnerable. It isn't even Pakistan's habitual crime of being unpredictable. A depressing inevitability surrounds the batting performances, so much so that the achievements of the first Test were an utter surprise, albeit a pleasant one. The prime responsibility lies with the top order, we know, where Azhar Ali's loss of form adds to the dilemma of the openers.
Full postThe sweet taste of M&M's success
Khurram Manzoor and Shan Masood, Pakistan's new opening combination, were the ones who put their team on the path to the big win in Abu Dhabi
Kamran Abbasi
18-Oct-2013
Pakistan's opening batsmen do not score runs in Test cricket. Score runs at the same time? Forget it. For a nation fed on the indigestible drivel of Mohammad Hafeez and Imran Farhat, the century partnership between Khurram Manzoor and Shan Masood was a gourmet treat. Pakistan never looked back. A fright in the final session didn't deflect from their unexpected superiority in Abu Dhabi.
Pakistan's last outing was a defeat to Zimbabwe. Pakistan cricket's appeal is built on such mood swings. Misbah-ul-Haq prefers a steadier, incremental improvement in his country's results. He has little chance of that. The background tomfoolery of their board makes a captain's task all but impossible. Only this week, the prime minister of Pakistan, a former first-class cricketer of ill repute, anointed himself patron of the national cricket board. The governing body of the cricket board was hastily dissolved and replaced with an ad-hoc committee. This is an exercise in semantics since whether ad-hoc or constitutional, whichever body runs Pakistan cricket tends to build more ruins.
In defiance of these developments, Misbah's team produced their best first-innings batting display in recent memory. Pakistan's bowlers, we know, are ever competitive. It is the batsmen who destroy our faith in fellow man. Here, Saeed Ajmal and Co enjoyed the rare luxury of a large total to exploit. They indulged themselves, almost sealing an innings victory. Questions about South Africa's ability to succeed in Asian conditions quickly resurfaced. Any team with ambitions to rule the world must vanquish challengers on all continents.
Full postLosing my naivety with Pakistan
We can talk about Misbah and Hafeez, propose new stars and offer retirement to others, but we all know the game isn't cricket - it is the politics of self-interest and greed
Kamran Abbasi
16-Sep-2013
When did you lose your naivety? I guess this is an unfair question since we lose our naivety in many different ways. On some matters we remain naive until our deaths. I lost my naivety about Pakistan in the mid-1980s. I was still a teenager, on a visit to Lahore. I held an idealistic image of Pakistan in my head. The Land of the Pure, built on a benevolent Islam promoted by its faultless founder Mohammad Ali Jinnah. A new nation, inhabited by proud and talented people, establishing itself in the world. All this idealism thrived despite the martial law of General Zia-ul Haq. My romanticism was blind to the absence of roads or electricity in my family village beyond the Murree Hills.
I was browsing in Ferozsons, Lahore's grandest bookshop, when an elderly shop assistant approached me. He asked me what I was looking for. I wasn't sure but I was interested in the story of Pakistan's creation. It wasn't easy to find a well-written Pakistani perspective. My idle quest captured the old fellow's imagination. He was instantly animated. He had a story to tell; his own story. He had lived through those times and met with the legends of his age. They had gone on to create Pakistan and died. He sold books in Ferozsons and lived. His was an interesting tale, although he saved his choicest anecdote till last.
"What those books won't tell you," he croaked, in the educated English of his generation, "is that Jinnah was a drinker. He enjoyed a glass of wine or two with his dinner. More than that, he often had bacon for breakfast." I was shocked. Whether or not I believed him, and my teenage version found it hard to, my naivety was lost. Perhaps our heroes aren't as perfect as we imagine them to be?
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