The Surfer

“This feel good factor is likely to be swept away when the side faces stronger opposition, but a series win over an improving Bangladesh side cannot be ignored. It would suggest that the young team does have the potential to improve as long as it can continue to have international exposure even if the return to Test cricket is delayed.”

But the real mystery of this teddy bears' picnic, the reason I cannot believe my eyes, is the spectacle of England's cricket writers dancing to Inzamam's tune down at the edge of the woods. Almost to a man they have hastily scribbled out some perfunctory criticism of the Pakistan skipper, before moving on to have at the umpire with almost insensate savagery.

I realised I had long gone past the need to sleep. “I have so much liquor in my head,” I said to Reg, “that if I go home to the hotel and go to bed, I’m not going to wake up.” He asked me what I wanted to do and I suggested that we go back to the Clarendon Court, where the team were staying, for a few more drinks and a little reminiscing about the good old days, and that’s exactly what we did. As morning dawned ...

To add to the farce, 20,000 spectators at the Oval were looking on in bewilderment when the Pakistani dressing room door opened and out emerged Kamran Akmal, the wicketkeeper, without pads but with a copy of a newspaper, which he sat down and read on the balcony. Commentators have taken that as the Pakistan side showing disrespect to Hair, but I am told that is not the case. Inzamam did not even know Akmal was doing that. It was just a young player, who knew he had no part to play in Inzi's decision, deciding to leave an overheated dressing room and seek some peace on the balcony.

The 25-year-old all-rounder's recent performances for Queensland and Australia A have greatly impressed selectors, who feel Watson can provide batting insurance for Adam Gilchrist should he fail to rediscover his form of old, as well as bowling back-up for Glenn McGrath who is returning to action after an extended lay-off.

Allow bowlers and fielders to scratch, rub, scuff and pick the ball to their hearts content but to do so mindful that this is the only ball they will get inside 80 overs until they get another new one to desecrate.

As one of the ten best umpires in the world, we presume that he knows the difference between balls weathered by play and one that has been altered artificially. Ian Botham, Nasser Hussain, Michael Atherton and the many others queueing up to argue that something is only true if it is captured for action replay have lost sight of the primary issue. No incontrovertible proof is required beyond the belief of the umpire that cheating has taken place. Everything else is chatter

The patronising explanation is that Pakistan is a young nation with comparatively few cultural, economic or sporting achievements to boast of. Cricket therefore assumes an iconic importance, and the players assume the mantles of heroes. Accuse a Pakistani cricketer of cheating and you accuse the nation.

“Let us imagine that Sunday's alleged offence had been committed by an England player. This is not beyond the realms of possibility, as any Australian player from last summer's Ashes series might attest, and as the chortling former bowlers in the BBC's commentary box would confirm. Andrew Strauss would most likely have accepted the five-run penalty with a shrug and told his fielders to get on with it. Tony Blair would not have been contacted by mobile phone on his Caribbean holiday, images of Darrell Hair would not have burned on the streets of Stockwell, and ambassadors would have slept untroubled. Nobody, frankly, would have cared very much.”

“It follows that for a Pakistani player to be accused of cheating, or condoning cheating, is not just a serious slur but a wearisomely familiar one. The response is passionate because it rejects the lazy lumping together of one people under one characteristic.”