From Imran’s Legacy to Institutional Collapse

Pakistan Cricket is poor - very poor! What we see today is not merely pathetic performance, it is a tragic spectacle: a side inflated with undeserved hype, weighed down by lethargy, and shackled by outdated ideas. 

The body language tells its own story—of hesitation rather than hunger, of resignation rather than resolve. One flashes of brilliance, followed by long spells of mediocrity, has become the cruel rhythm of Pakistan cricket.

The decline, many would agree, began with the departure of Imran Khan. His retirement marked not just the end of an era, but the loss of a philosophy that once bound talent to discipline and ambition. 

In the 1990s, Pakistan overflowed with cricketing riches: formidable openers, elegant middle-order maestros, two world-class wicketkeepers, and perhaps the most lethal bowling unit of its time, fast bowlers who could shatter stumps and spinners who could mesmerize batsmen. The nation had enough depth to field multiple competitive sides at once.

And yet, the promise remained unfulfilled. 

The reasons are familiar, almost painfully so: petty politics, whimsical decision-making, corruption, and the absence of any long-term vision. Instead of building institutions to harness and multiply talent, Pakistan relied on the raw brilliance of individuals. But natural flair, unguided and unsupported, can only carry a team so far. Over time, the cracks widened, and the same politics that once nipped potential in the bud eventually corroded the entire structure.

What remains today is a shadow of that greatness, an echo of glory stifled by mismanagement. Pakistan cricket has not been undone by a lack of talent, but by its tragic squandering.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

A Test for the Ages: The Second Tied Match in Cricket History

In the long and storied history of Test cricket, certain matches transcend mere statistics, etching themselves into legend. The 1052nd Test match played between India and Australia in September 1986 at the M. A. Chidambaram Stadium in Chennai (then Madras), was one such contest. It was only the second tied Test in history, standing alongside the iconic Brisbane encounter of 1960-61. Like its predecessor, this match reached a dramatic climax with a single ball remaining, underscoring the razor-thin margins that separate triumph from heartbreak in the purest format of the game.

Australia’s Early Dominance and Jones’ Marathon Knock

As the match began, Australia asserted their dominance unequivocally. The first day ended with the visitors well placed at 211 for 2, vice-captain David Boon setting the stage with a sublime century—his third in four Tests against India. But it was the second day that witnessed an innings of rare brilliance and remarkable resilience.

Dean Jones recalled to the Australian side after nearly three years, played an unforgettable knock of 210 runs, a record for an Australian in India at the time. The innings was not just a testament to his batting skill but also his physical endurance, as he battled extreme heat and dehydration. His first century came in 335 minutes, and his second in just 164, with 27 fours and two sixes punctuating a masterclass in concentration and strokeplay. The conditions took such a toll that Jones suffered severe cramps and nausea, eventually requiring hospitalization and a saline drip to recover.

Captain Allan Border further solidified Australia’s position with a well-crafted 106, his 19th Test century. Benefiting from three dropped catches—twice by Kapil Dev and once by substitute Laxman Sivaramakrishnan—Border made the most of his opportunities. His 178-run partnership with Jones set a new fourth-wicket record against India, surpassing Neil Harvey and Sam Loxton’s previous best of 159.

With contributions from Ray Bright (30) and Greg Ritchie (41), Australia piled up a daunting 574 before declaring on the third morning. At that stage, an Australian victory seemed the only conceivable outcome.

Kapil Dev’s Counterattack and India’s Gritty Resistance

India, missing their seasoned batsman Dilip Vengsarkar due to a back injury, faced an uphill battle. Their response began with characteristic aggression from Kris Srikkanth, who raced to 50 in just 55 minutes. But Australia struck back quickly, removing both Srikkanth and Mohinder Amarnath in successive deliveries. The middle order, led by Mohammad Azharuddin, attempted to steady the ship, but none could convert their starts into a match-defining innings.

The standout performer was India’s captain, Kapil Dev. His counterattacking century (119) kept Indian hopes flickering amidst adversity. He played with controlled aggression, smashing 21 boundaries, 11 of them in his second fifty. Supported ably by Chetan Sharma (31) and Madan Lal (32), Kapil Dev orchestrated a recovery that saw India post 397, averting the follow-on and keeping them in the contest.

By the end of the fourth day, Australia had reached 170 for 5, setting the stage for a potential declaration.

The Dramatic Chase: Hope, Collapse, and the Final Ball Thriller

Cricket is a game of uncertainties, and Border’s decision to declare at the overnight score left India needing 348 runs to win on the final day. It was a challenging but not impossible target, and India began their chase with measured confidence.

Sunil Gavaskar, playing his 100th consecutive Test, brought all his experience to bear, anchoring the innings with a composed 90. He found an able partner in Amarnath, and by tea, India stood at 193 for 2, requiring 155 more runs from 30 overs—a tantalizingly achievable target.

However, the game’s script took an unexpected turn. Gavaskar’s dismissal at 251 proved pivotal, and within two runs, India lost Kapil Dev as well. Yet, India’s hopes remained alive, thanks to responsible knocks from Azharuddin (42) and wicketkeeper Kiran More (39). Ravi Shastri, playing a mature innings, hit two crucial sixes off Greg Matthews to keep the chase on course.

With just 17 runs needed and four wickets in hand, an Indian victory seemed inevitable. But the drama was far from over. Bright and Matthews spun a web, triggering a collapse. Chetan Sharma perished attempting a boundary, More fell for a duck, and Yadav was bowled playing an uncertain stroke. India were now nine down with four runs needed.

Enter Maninder Singh, a tailender with minimal batting credentials. The equation stood at four runs required with the final over to be bowled. Shastri, maintaining his composure, took a two, followed by a single to level the scores. Victory—or an unprecedented second tie—rested on Maninder’s shoulders.

With three balls left, the tension was unbearable. The first delivery was safely negotiated. But on the second, Maninder played back to a sharply turning delivery from Matthews and was struck on the pads—lbw! The Australians erupted in jubilation, knowing they had secured only the second-tied Test in history. Unlike Brisbane, where confusion reigned, here there was no ambiguity—both teams knew what had just transpired.

A Test of Tempers and Controversies

Despite its historic significance, the match was not without controversy. The tension of the final day saw frequent flare-ups, with Border engaging in a heated argument with umpire Dotiwala. Bright, Matthews, and wicketkeeper Tim Zoehrer also disputed decisions. On India’s side, emotions ran high as well—Srikkanth reacted angrily to close fielder Bright, while Maninder Singh charged 40 yards to confront Jones after dismissing him in the second innings.

The high-stakes nature of the contest inevitably led to frayed tempers, but it also underscored the fiercely competitive spirit in which the match was played.

Legacy: A Match for the Ages

In the decades since this tied Test has remained one of the most memorable encounters in cricket history. It showcased Test cricket at its best—attritional battles, brilliant individual performances, tactical intrigue, and a finish that left spectators breathless.

More than just a statistical anomaly, this match exemplified the essence of Test cricket: a format where patience, resilience, and skill are tested over five gruelling days, often leading to climaxes more thrilling than any scripted drama.

For India, the tie was a bittersweet moment—a historic achievement, but also a missed opportunity. For Australia, it was a testament to their tenacity and the brilliance of their spinners, who took all 10 wickets in the final innings.

In Chennai, in 1986, cricket witnessed one of its most extraordinary spectacles—one that, decades later, still evokes awe and admiration. The second-tied Test was not just a moment in history; it was a celebration of the sport’s unpredictability, where no result is final until the last ball is bowled.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

A Triumph in the Face of Adversity: Pakistan's Resurgence in the Sahara Cup

In a do-or-die encounter, Pakistan not only survived but thrived, dismantling India with clinical precision. Under the watchful eyes of the largest crowd of the tournament, India faltered when it mattered most, producing its most uninspired performance of the series. Pakistan, with an emphatic 97-run victory, levelled the Sahara Cup series, a testament to their resilience and ability to rise under pressure.

The Foundation of Pakistan’s Success

From the outset, Pakistan set the tone with Saeed Anwar’s audacious strokeplay. His 35 off 26 balls was an exhibition of controlled aggression, marked by a pulled six off Javagal Srinath that signalled his intent. Partnering with Aamir Sohail, Anwar laid the foundation with a brisk 42-run opening stand. However, Venkatesh Prasad’s deceptive change of pace outfoxed him, while Srinath’s precision sent Salim Elahi back leg-before. Sohail, momentarily flourishing with a six off Sunil Joshi, fell to an impetuous shot, a moment of recklessness that handed Srinath another scalp. A disastrous mix-up between Ijaz Ahmed and Salim Malik compounded Pakistan’s woes, leaving them precariously placed at 91 for four.

At that juncture, the momentum seemed to shift towards India. “Yes, we were in a very good stage,” Tendulkar later recalled. Even Wasim Akram, Pakistan’s stalwart leader, admitted, “I was really worried.” The Pakistani supporters in the stands shared his anxiety, sensing that their team was teetering on the edge.

But adversity has a way of forging champions. Ijaz Ahmed and Inzamam-ul-Haq, seasoned campaigners with an uncanny ability to weather crises, steered Pakistan to safer waters. Their 86-run stand for the fifth wicket was a masterclass in measured aggression, neutralizing India’s spin attack and capitalizing on loose deliveries. Inzamam’s 40 was cut short by a direct hit from Ajay Jadeja, yet his contribution was invaluable. Ijaz, playing one of his most defining innings, carved out a composed 90 off 110 balls, punctuated with a six and seven exquisite boundaries. Moin Khan, ever the reliable finisher, provided a late flourish with a quickfire 33 off 21 balls, ensuring Pakistan posted a challenging total. India, left with an asking rate of 5.17, faced a daunting chase.

A Collapse Unraveled

If Pakistan’s innings was a display of tempered resurgence, India’s chase was a study in fragility. The decision to field first may have seemed strategic, but as Tendulkar later defended, “The pitch had nothing to do with the outcome. Pakistan played better than we did.”

Nayan Mongia, India’s makeshift aggressor at the top, fell early, his misadventure ending in a tame dismissal. Wasim Akram, leading from the front, then delivered the hammer blow—inducing Tendulkar into an expansive drive outside off-stump, where Salim Malik’s sharp reflexes at short point completed a sensational catch. It was the second time in the series that Tendulkar perished in such a manner, an ominous pattern that boded ill for India.

Rahul Dravid provided a brief glimpse of defiance, his elegant strokeplay offering a fleeting illusion of stability. His four boundaries off Waqar Younis—an elegant flick to square leg, a crisp drive through covers, and a textbook straight drive—were evidence of his growing stature in one-day cricket. Yet, his resistance was ephemeral. Saqlain Mushtaq, a master of deception, ended Dravid’s innings with a contentious caught-behind decision. With Azharuddin following soon after, India’s backbone was shattered.

At 63 for five, the writing was on the wall. Unlike Pakistan, India lacked battle-hardened middle-order stalwarts. Saqlain continued his demolition act, snaring Sunil Joshi with a sharp-turning delivery, brilliantly pouched by Moin Khan on the second attempt. Mushtaq Ahmed’s introduction merely hastened India’s demise. Jadeja and Aashish Kapoor’s 54-run stand provided a semblance of resistance, but Kapoor succumbed to Waqar’s guile. Jadeja, the lone warrior, managed a fighting 47 before falling as the last wicket. India’s surrender was meek, their inadequacies glaring.

Tactical Missteps and Strategic Mastery

Beyond individual performances, this match underscored the tactical acumen of Pakistan’s leadership. Wasim Akram marshalled his resources astutely, rotating his bowlers effectively and maintaining relentless pressure on the Indian batsmen. In stark contrast, India’s bowling lacked incisiveness, and their field placements often betrayed a lack of strategic clarity. The reliance on seven bowlers, including Tendulkar himself, signalled a desperate search for breakthroughs that never materialized.

For Pakistan, this victory was a testament to its experience of triumphing over inconsistency. When the chips were down, Ijaz Ahmed and Inzamam-ul-Haq’s presence in the middle tilted the scales. Their calm demeanour contrasted starkly with India’s middle-order fragility, where the absence of seasoned crisis managers proved costly.

Srinath and Prasad, erratic and ineffective, struggled to maintain a disciplined line, compounding India’s misery. Tendulkar, burdened with both captaincy and run-scoring responsibilities, once again found himself the fulcrum of India’s fortunes. His failure with the bat often equated to India’s downfall, and this match was no exception.

A Lesson in Composure and Resilience

For the packed stadium, filled with hopeful fans from across North America, the result was an anticlimax. Many had travelled from New York and Ottawa, only to witness their team capitulate. Cricket, a game of fluctuating fortunes, had delivered a harsh lesson to India. As Tendulkar solemnly reflected, “Good and bad performances are mixed. One has to take them in the right spirit.”

Yet, the reality was stark—when faced with the weight of expectations, India crumbled, while Pakistan, driven by experience and tenacity, soared to a commanding triumph. This was more than just a win for Pakistan—it was a statement, a reaffirmation of their ability to rise when it matters most, to transform adversity into triumph. As they walked off the field, victorious and vindicated, they carried with them not just a trophy but the knowledge that resilience and composure are often the greatest weapons in the game of cricket.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

The Return of the “Special One”: Mourinho, Benfica, and the Weight of History

It has been nearly twenty-five years since José Mourinho first took charge of Benfica, a tenure that lasted only eleven matches yet left behind the scent of unfinished destiny. Now, as negotiations unfold between Rui Costa’s presidency and Portugal’s most storied club, Mourinho stands on the threshold of returning home. The story is not merely about a coach accepting another job. It is about history, reputation, politics, and the perilous pull of nostalgia.

A Circle Unfinished

When Mourinho walked away from Benfica in December 2000, he was still a rising figure with audacious self-belief but little silverware to show for it. Within four years, he would be hoisting the Champions League trophy with Porto and christening himself the "Special One" in England. What Benfica lost in that moment of discord with Manuel Vilarinho, Europe gained. For the club’s faithful, the question has always lingered: what if he had stayed?

Now, at 62, Mourinho returns not as the fiery young innovator but as a veteran laden with trophies, scars, and the unmistakable aura of a man who has commanded the dugouts of Chelsea, Inter, Real Madrid, Manchester United, and more. His legacy is glittering, but his trajectory is no longer upward—it is cyclical. Benfica is less a new adventure and more the closing of a loop.

Rui Costa’s Gamble

For Rui Costa, Benfica’s president, the timing of this appointment is as dangerous as it is dramatic. With presidential elections looming on October 25, critics have accused him of making a Hail Mary pass—hoping Mourinho’s aura will secure both victories on the pitch and votes off it.

Costa insists this is a “sporting decision,” but politics clings to football in Portugal like ivy to stone. If Mourinho fails to steady the Eagles before the elections, a new president could inherit an expensive manager he did not appoint, and the coach’s second coming may be as brief as his first.

Mourinho’s Shadow

The appeal of Mourinho remains undeniable. Even his critics acknowledge the thrill of his presence—the theatre of his press conferences, the drama of his touchline battles, the narrative weight he brings to every match. Portugal reveres him for Porto’s European triumphs and admires him for the audacity of his global career.

Yet, there is a shadow. Mourinho has not won a league title since 2015. His last European triumph, the Conference League with Roma in 2022, feels modest compared to the heights of old. His style has grown increasingly combative, his football more pragmatic than pioneering. “Peak Mourinho is long gone,” as journalist Diogo Pombo notes, and Benfica risks inheriting both his brilliance and his baggage.

Nostalgia Versus Reality

Outside the Estadio da Luz, the atmosphere hums with excitement. Journalists call his return “inevitable.” Fans, starved of iconic figures in the Portuguese game, dream of glory. There is romance in the notion of Mourinho returning to the club that let him slip away, as if football itself is offering him—and Benfica—a chance at redemption.

But romance is a dangerous currency in football. Nostalgia cannot defend against Real Madrid’s pressing nor guarantee points at Newcastle. If Benfica falter in the Champions League, if Mourinho cannot deliver immediate domestic dominance, the “union finally fulfilled” may quickly sour into the déjà vu of disillusionment.

The Verdict

Mourinho’s return to Benfica is not just a managerial appointment. It is a gamble woven with memory, politics, and ambition. For Rui Costa, it is a risk that could define his presidency. For Mourinho, it is an opportunity to reclaim his homeland’s stage and prove he still has the power to command a dressing room and a league.

But beneath the noise and nostalgia lies the truth: this is no longer the young Mourinho defying doubters with Porto, nor the swaggering conqueror of Chelsea and Inter. This is Mourinho the veteran, stepping back into the arena of his first failure, carrying the weight of history on his shoulders.

If he succeeds, Benfica will not just have a coach—they will have rewritten a myth. If he fails, it will not simply be another sacking. It will be the final confirmation that time, even for the Special One, is undefeated.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Liverpool’s Late Theatre: A Struggle Transfigured into Triumph

 

It ought to have been a routine procession for Liverpool, a night where order and inevitability reigned. Yet football rarely adheres to expectation. The 92nd-minute thunder of Anfield—Virgil van Dijk’s imperious header searing into Atlético Madrid’s net—was less about inevitability and more about endurance, the kind of moment that insists struggle itself is the prelude to ecstasy. Liverpool’s season is becoming synonymous with this: the late strike, the delayed catharsis, the cruel insistence on drama before joy.

The Pattern of the Season

Arne Slot’s side has cultivated a strange rhythm: every Premier League victory secured after the 80th minute, each contest stretched to its most fragile point before redemption arrives. In Europe, they seemed intent on breaking the pattern—two goals in six minutes from Andy Robertson and Mohamed Salah suggested a rapid dissection, a ruthless declaration of intent. Yet to presume the work was complete was to underestimate both Atlético’s tenacity and football’s refusal to be scripted.

Atlético’s Disruption and Llorente’s Refrain

The goals that revived Diego Simeone’s team came, fittingly, from the unlikely figure of Marcos Llorente—a full-back masquerading as a midfielder, a player who now curiously reserves his sharpest tools for Anfield. His brace carried both fortune and defiance: a toe-poke that slipped through Konaté’s legs and a deflected volley that briefly hushed the Kop. Each felt less like orchestrated brilliance and more like football’s sly reminder that dominance, no matter how overwhelming, is always negotiable.

Simeone, true to character, raged against shadows—at the referee, at the crowd, at the cruelty of missed chances like Sørloth’s glaring header. His dismissal, after sparring with officials and spectators alike, was less a tactical loss than a theatrical inevitability. Atlético had brought disruption, but not control.

Liverpool’s Shifting Cast

For Liverpool, the night became not only about survival but about character. Salah’s early swagger, Gravenberch’s bustling brilliance, and Robertson’s fortunate ricochet promised a smooth narrative, yet momentum faltered. Alexander Isak’s debut was reduced to a study in frustration—roars for his resilience when fouled, sighs when his impact waned, and eventual resignation when fatigue claimed him. His substitution for Hugo Ekitiké symbolised the ongoing search for a heroic No 9, a mantle that remains tantalisingly vacant.

The Final Crescendo

And so, as Atlético’s resurgence stretched tension across Anfield like a drawn bow, Liverpool turned again to their captain. Szoboszlai’s corner hung in the air, heavy with desperation, until Van Dijk—who has long embodied calm amid chaos—rose above the storm. His header was not merely a goal; it was an assertion, a declaration that Liverpool’s romance with the late show is not an accident but identity.

Slot, who last season began his Champions League odyssey with seven straight wins, knows momentum is currency in Europe. With Real Madrid, Inter, and others looming on the horizon, this victory is less about three points than about sustaining the mythos of a team that refuses to surrender to the clock.

This version leans into literary devices (metaphor, contrast, narrative rhythm) while keeping the factual skeleton intact. It’s structured in thematic sections—Pattern, Disruption, Cast, Crescendo—so the analysis flows more like a critical essay than a chronological report.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar