One wicket from history

Multan, a dusty Punjab city with a spotless new stadium, is known as the home of Sufi saints and Inzamam-ul-Haq. On September 6, 2003, it almost became known as a spiritual home for Bangladesh cricket. One wicket was all that separated Bangladesh from history; one leg-before verdict, one Inzamam-inspired run-out.

But it was one wicket too far for Khaled Mahmud's team, whose biggest handicap, according to the former Pakistan pace bowler Sikander Bakht, is that they don't know what it feels like to win. He may be on to something. Both at Peshawar and Multan, Bangladesh found themselves in the unfamiliar position of holding the whip hand. Both times they crumbled under the weight of their own expectations, less visibly at Multan, but they crumbled none the less.

How refreshing, though, to be discussing Bangladesh's near-triumph instead of another slaughter. When the golden jubilee of Bangladesh cricket is written, this Test series -- so insignificant when it was announced -- should be remembered as the one that turned the sceptics.

Two moments will become legend: Alok Kapali's hat-trick at Peshawar and the stunning batting of Javed Omar, Habibul Bashar, and Mohammad Ashraful that swept Bangladesh to a wonderland of 310 for 2. But what has changed?

Most obviously there is a change in attitude. Yes, the players still sometimes threw it away. Yes, they sometimes collapsed. So do all teams. What was most visibly different about Bangladesh was that for long periods the players applied themselves and fought with self-belief and determination. They lost far fewer wickets to rash strokes than in any previous series.

That doesn't mean they eschewed strokeplay. Habibul Bashar in particular showed that Bangladesh cricket has players of sound technique and attacking flair. And this change in attitude was apparent in their bowling too. There is nothing flash about this Bangladesh attack, nor did they try anything flashy. Khaled Mahmud and Mohammad Rafique accepted their limitations and stuck to a tidy line and length, which, allied with patience, will bring them rich rewards on Asia's dustbowls.

Yet the strongest statement of confidence came when Khaled Mahmud won the toss at Multan and decided to bat on a greentop. In the previous innings his team had been dismissed for 96. Attitude, then, from the minnows of international cricket, confirming the old adage that top-class cricket is played as much in the head as with hand and eye. Attitude that confirms the progress made in Australia. Attitude that says Bangladesh are here to stay.

This attitude, though, does not fall from the sky -- it has to have an earthly source. The fount is clearly Dav Whatmore, who has been given a free hand by Bangladesh's selectors to shape this team in the way that he sees fit, much as he did with Sri Lanka -- from minors to majors in quick tempo.

Still, critics will point to a second-string, perhaps third-string, Pakistan team. That would be unfair. Pakistan's desperation to win was summed up by Shoaib Akhtar's energy-sapping effort in the heat of Peshawar and Inzamam's desperate defiance in Multan. This, too, was no more a fledgling Pakistan side than the ones that have performed with credit since the World Cup in Sharjah, Sri Lanka, and England.

So if the question is whether or not this is a genuine transformation in Bangladesh's international competitiveness, the answer is yes. There will be days of humiliation and shame, but they will be less frequent. Overseas tours will remain tough and seldom fruitful for some time. But Bangladesh cricket, under Whatmore, has a formula that will produce victories in Asia -- and where better to start than against the England tourists. Now that would be historic.