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Younis Khan and Yousuf Youhana: not as extravagently talented, but steelier than their forebears
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Perhaps because we're not used to seeing it, we don't
often acknowledge it anymore. Pakistani teams, especially
during the 1990s, were many things; freakishly but
fitfully brilliant, electric now, flat then. The line
between success and failure was often thin enough to
be impoverished, delicately balanced on feats of
stupendous individual skill; a spell from Wasim here,
one from Waqar there, a virtuoso from Saeed Anwar's
wrists or an Inzamam special. Performances were
ethereal and success came from an explosion of an
individual or two, while failure from an implosion of
the collective. If a win often resulted in a streak of
them, so too did a loss. Not often was there anything
tangible - solidity or resilience - in between.
The loss of the two Ws and Saeed has been much
mourned in Pakistan - it still is. But since the World
Cup, and especially over the last year, a squad of
players has emerged within Pakistan with a spine
steely enough to cope with positions and situations of
despair, often made worse through makeshift resources.
Mohali last week was an exceptional and spectacular
addition to a growing body of evidence. The wins in
Lahore against the Indians, after the Multan massacre,
and at Karachi against Sri Lanka after Sanath
Jayasuriya had mauled them at Faisalabad were
admirable demonstrations. Even within the 3-0
whitewash in Australia, there were glimpses after
Perth that this Pakistan is not as ready to roll over
as previous sides.
Tellingly, they have found this spirit collectively
and through a variety of sources, players such as Asim
Kamal, the leader Inzamam, Danish Kaneria, Younis
Khan, Yousuf Youhana and recently Kamran Akmal and
Abdul Razzaq. Calcutta, over two days, has highlighted
this trait most emphatically. They were written off
after the first two sessions had yielded 225 runs and
two wickets; a big total on the cards, Harbhajan Singh
in tow and a heavy defeat to follow. But the response
was communal, conceived by Shahid Afridi's dismissal
of Tendulkar, continued by Abdul Razzaq's two wickets
in two balls and concluded yesterday by Danish
Kaneria's extraction of Rahul Dravid. Not a starry
individual performance in sight, it was fitting that
each of the three picked up a wicket today to end the
Indian innings.
Maybe because they are not as extravagantly gifted as
their predecessors, they succeed occasionally by
concentrating on the basics. They chased leather much
of yesterday but they did it with commitment,
discipline and passion. Afridi's bullish presence at
the faltering top of the order today was crucial, but
more so was the recognition by Younis Khan and Yousuf
Youhana of the most underappreciated of cricketing
basics; the art of running as a weapon.
Zaheer Abbas, in a recent interview with WAC, recalled
how Asif Iqbal and Javed Miandad had run the Indians
ragged when chasing 164 during the memorable chase
in Karachi in 1978-79. They had, he said, run singles
that should never have been run, they converted twos
into threes. It was, reckons Abbas, the invention of
modern day one-day running as we know it. The Australians,
of course, have reclaimed the aggressive, cheeky run
of an ODI and refashioned it for the Test game.
Today, Youhana and Younis stole, created, nurdled,
Deflected and angled runs, cheeky in nature but decisive
in spirit. With three in the covers, a slip and short
leg, they relentlessly pursued an international
version of tip and run, interspersed freely with
boundaries. Each run chipped away at a sizeable total
and at India's patience. In an innings of 66 overs,
there were seven maidens. Not since Miandad himself,
and usually against India, had there been such an
exhibition.
There is, of course, a proviso - there still is with
Pakistan - and the threat of disintegration always
loiters. It has happened also in the last year and the
prospect of chasing runs on this pitch remains an
uneasy one, but what you cannot do is write them off
even after that. They might go down here, but they
will not, you suspect, be out. What must now be
acknowledged, after Mohali, after Calcutta, after
Karachi and Lahore, is that this vintage of
Pakistanis, while not possessing the sparkle of
before, is made of sterner stuff.
Osman Samiuddin is a freelance writer based in Karachi.