A tale of two pities

Two years ago, Mohammad Asif was on a roll, whipping out 29 Indians, Sri Lankans and Englishmen in four Tests to confirm himself as Pakistan’s next planet-conquering fast bowler. In Adelaide a few months later, Paul Collingwood became the first Pom to score a double-century in Australia for nearly 70 years, matching the matchless Wally Hammond. Now, for both, the doldrums beckon. In neither case is sympathy unconfined. But neither is it negligible.

By failing sundry drugs tests, Asif was the one who actually broke some written rules, rather than merely ignored the urgings of a spiritual manifesto. So it is curious, yet entirely typical of cricket, that there appears to be more compassion for him. As Kamran Abassi wisely points out in his blog, the Pakistan Cricket Board, in failing to provide a proper lead on drug education and then indulging him, convincing him he was fire-proof, have hardly been blameless.

There is even talk of Indian espionage. Was it merely coincidence, wondered one poster, that, the day after the PCB decided to bar its players from next year’s IPL dollar-fest in the event of it coinciding with Australia's rescheduled tour, IPL released Asif's positive results? “Not to mention that he was previously found guilty in India. And, also at Dubai Airport where 95% of the working staff is Indian!” It’s all too easy to see where this one is heading!

I have still to be convinced that performance-enhancing drugs can do much to enhance performance in cricket [hence the apparent dearth of offenders], other than to ease recovery from injury - which doesn’t really seem that heinous a crime, other, of course, than to the player himself, whose body might suffer in the long run. Nonetheless, my sympathies lie more readily with Collingwood, if only because he appears to have paid a full-enough price for his crime against the cricketing state but seems unable to avoid placing himself in front of misfortune’s steamroller.

Many will contend that the only tears to be shed should be strictly those of a crocodilian persuasion. Collingwood, after all, shook sackloads of sensibilities with his ruthlessness in an ODI last month against New Zealand at The Oval, refusing to withdraw an appeal after Grant Elliott had accidentally been clattered, and injured, by Ryan Sidebottom. For all his subsequent apologies, for all that team-mates might have counselled him better, or at least helped him carry the can, it cost Collingwood a great deal more than his suspension for permitting a slow over-rate. And rightly so. There are even those who rejoiced when Billy Bowden gave him out so cheaply, and so wrongly, at Lord’s. Here was justice. Here was karma.

All the signs now are that he will be replaced by Andrew Flintoff for the second Test of the D’Oliveira Trophy series, starting at Headingley on Friday. Having served his country so splendidly and unstintingly, in all forms of the game, one trusts, feels almost completely certain, he will return, but he needs assistance to dig him out his trough.

I have never met Collingwood, but all the interviews and anecdotal evidence suggest he is an admirable man, a quietly passionate sportsman blessed with a rare and priceless brand of determination. He’s needed every ounce. A north-easterner, he had to scrap his way to the top of a pyramid run by north-westerners and southerners, overcoming prejudice and pigeon-holing. Durham’s first major contribution to the national cause since they became the 18th first-class county in 1992, he batted with a punchy responsibility, could outsmart the best with the ball, and consistently produced the sort of breath-snatching catches one never, ever, associates with an Englishman. Characterised - snottily, snobbishly - as a one-day specialist, he nailed that theory long ago.

Lord’s, though, was his first game for England since that Oval miscalculation. Was this really Colly we were watching? Kevin Pietersen and Ian Bell’s frolics meant that runs weren’t that crucial, rendering that single-figure score almost inevitable: here is a bloke who thrives on, lives for, the challenge; without a mountain to climb or a wall to be backed up against, he is a lesser player. Yet even in the field the colour appeared to have drained from his cheeks; a catch was dropped that, by his own admittedly celestial standards, was virtually undroppable. And, although he took a vital wicket in the first innings, there were no magic balls in the second, no flashes of sorcery to relieve the frustration, no “Goldenarm”.

It is hard not to sense that Collingwood is down on himself. Forget what the outsiders have said, outsiders who know nothing of him beyond boundaries and catches. Forget the number of hands that have been sheepishly raised when other players have been asked whether they would have acted, in the white-heat of battle, as he did. His own self-image, as a tough but fair competitor, has taken a pounding.

Whether he can recover will depend less, one suspects, on form alone than man-management. One of the main advantages of central contracts is that recipients no longer slink back to their counties after being dropped, tail between legs, confidence shot, sense of belonging evaporated. Yes, a few hundreds and wickets for Durham will help, but the phone calls and texts must continue, reassurance the theme.

The same should apply to Asif, who has fallen foul, like so many before him, of his own immaturity and short-sightedness, but has also been nobbled by immature bosses, by poor guidance. Not that long ago he was made vice-captain, suggesting a man of substance rather than substance-abuse. Pakistan cricket, and the art of fast bowling, are not so well-endowed with talent that we can afford to see him ditched to the wayside.