The Resurgence of Pakistani Cricket: A tale of magic and madness

In the 1990s, the world of cricket bore witness to the remarkable triumphs of the Pakistani team, igniting dreams and hopes among fans. With legends like Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis, Anwar Maqsood, Mushtaq Ahmed, Saqlain Mushtaq, and Inzamam-ul-Haq at the helm, Pakistan crafted unforgettable moments that etched themselves into the collective memory of cricket aficionados. The thrill of victory was not just a fleeting joy; it was a deep-seated passion that left us smiling as we drifted off to sleep, envisioning the next stunning win.

However, as the new millennium dawned, the frequency of such victories dwindled. A lone highlight came in 2005 with the Multan Test, but since then, the narrative surrounding Pakistani cricket has often been marred by controversy and inconsistency. Yet, just when it seemed the magic had faded, an enigmatic performance at Abu Dhabi rekindled that elusive spark.

What unfolded on that fateful day echoed the legendary Wellington Test, where Pakistan had stunned the Kiwis, chasing down a meagre target of 127 runs with the mesmerizing pace and guile of Wasim and Waqar. Similarly, England arrived at Abu Dhabi, needing just 145 runs to secure victory—a target that, on paper, should have been a stroll in the park for the world’s top-ranked Test team. Instead, they found themselves ensnared in a web of bewildering spin, reminiscent of Pakistan’s greatest exploits.

The day belonged to Abdur Rehman, the unsung hero who emerged as the unexpected architect of England's downfall. The stage was set for Saeed Ajmal to wreak havoc, but it was Rehman who turned the tide, embodying the role of a silent executioner. With an approach that blended aggression and precision, he began to spin a narrative of his own, varying his lengths and deceiving batsmen with a skill that rendered them helpless. One by one, the English batsmen succumbed, trudging back to the pavilion as if answering the call of an inevitable fate. 

Rehman’s spell was not merely a testament to individual brilliance; it exemplified the essence of Pakistani cricket—unpredictable, captivating, and often defying logic. In a landscape where any team could dismantle the best or falter in moments of stability, Pakistan embraced a philosophy of whimsy and chaos. They are a team capable of inducing tears one day and joy the next, leaving fans pondering, "How did they achieve this?" one moment and grappling with despair the next.

This is the paradox of Pakistani cricket: a squad often engulfed in dramas, surrounded by controversies, yet thriving in their unique, unorthodox style. They are the ‘Cornered Tigers,’ a moniker that captures their spirit—a blend of resilience, unpredictability, and a flair for the dramatic. Their cricket board operates in enigmatic ways, and their players are often caught in petty squabbles, yet they remain an enigma that enchants the world.

Today, as we reflect on this remarkable victory, it is not just a moment to celebrate; it is an invitation to revel in the essence of Pakistani cricket. The echoes of ‘Bhangra’ reverberate louder than the tunes of ‘The Beatles,’ reminding us that while the journey may be fraught with unpredictability, the thrill and excitement of cricket remain unparalleled. It is time to cherish this victory, to rejoice, and to dance—celebrating the vibrant spirit that defines Pakistan and its cricketing legacy.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

Courage from the Streets: The inspiring story of Joynal Abedin

In a world that often glorifies the elite and the affluent, true courage and willpower are frequently overlooked, especially in societies like ours. While many seek inspiration in foreign figures, we must remember that Bangladesh is home to its own remarkable personalities—individuals who exemplify resilience and determination, often emerging from the shadows of socioeconomic hardship. One such person is Joynal Abedin, a rickshaw puller whose life story serves as a beacon of hope and inspiration.

At 55, Joynal Abedin’s journey is a testament to the transformative power of adversity. His life changed irrevocably when he witnessed the painful death of his father, who succumbed to illness due to a lack of financial resources for adequate medical care. This traumatic experience ignited a profound desire within Joynal—a vision to create a charitable hospital for those unable to access proper healthcare. In a country where the loss of life is often accepted as a tragic norm, Joynal made a resolute decision to challenge this status quo.

Relocating to Dhaka with his wife, Lal Banu, in search of better opportunities, Joynal’s struggles intensified. Settling in the Shahjahanpur Rail Colony, he faced the harsh realities of urban life. Yet, amidst these trials, a rickshaw owner named Mosharraf extended a helping hand, providing Joynal with his first 50 taka and the skills to earn a living through rickshaw pulling. Thus began Joynal’s arduous journey—one that would last for nearly 14 years as he toiled day and night to secure a better future.

The struggles Joynal faced were not merely economic; they were deeply personal. Throughout this challenging period, Lal Banu stood by him, serving as both a partner and a confidant. Together, they nurtured a shared dream, fostering a spirit of resilience that became their guiding light. Joynal meticulously saved a portion of his meagre earnings, striving to open a bank account—an aspiration that seemed almost unattainable until fortune smiled upon him in the form of Saleha Akhter, the manager of Sonali Bank. Her assistance proved pivotal, allowing Joynal to formalize his savings.

Twenty years later, through relentless effort and determination, Joynal and Lal Banu amassed a substantial sum of 284,000 taka. They returned to their village, purchased land, and constructed a modest home for their family. More importantly, they established the "Momtaz Hospital," a facility dedicated to serving the medical needs of their community.

As reported by *The Daily Star*, the hospital has since become a lifeline for villagers and beyond, providing first aid to approximately 25 patients daily, and dispensing essential medications such as painkillers, oral saline, and dewormers. Joynal's commitment to social welfare does not end there; he also initiated a free coaching centre and a Maktab (Arabic learning centre) for underprivileged children, demonstrating his belief in the power of education. Currently, around 50 children benefit from this initiative, with Joynal ensuring that his teachers receive fair compensation for their invaluable contributions.

Joynal Abedin's story serves as an indelible reminder that determination and perseverance can triumph over adversity. His unwavering commitment to his dreams and the well-being of others is a lesson for us all: when fueled by purpose, we can surmount any challenge. Yet, amidst such inspiring tales, there remains a disheartening reality—our media often focuses on trivial matters, leaving these true heroes in the shadows.

In a country rich with individuals like Joynal, we must shift our gaze. We must recognize and celebrate the resilience of those who rise from humble beginnings to uplift their communities. People like Joynal Abedin should not only be acknowledged but revered as role models, for they embody the spirit of hope and perseverance that Bangladesh needs to inspire its youth and illuminate the path toward a brighter future.

Joynal Abedin is not just a rickshaw puller; he is a hero—one who reminds us that the greatest legacies often emerge from the most unlikely places.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

The Genesis of a Legend: Pace, Transformation, and a Landmark Victory in Sydney

In cricket, pace transcends mere speed. It is the language of intimidation, a raw spectacle that combines art and ferocity, pushing the boundaries of physical and mental endurance. A fast bowler operating at full throttle can shift the narrative of a match, injecting adrenaline into spectators and fear into batters. Swing and seam may add finesse, but sheer pace is the primal weapon—the essence of cricket’s drama. 

It is this unique allure that elevates the speed merchants of the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s to almost mythical status. Their exploits resonate beyond the pages of statistics, becoming folklore in the annals of the sport. This was the era when pace bowling, at its fiercest, evoked awe and trepidation, a visceral thrill unmatched even by the metronomic brilliance of modern greats. 

For Pakistan, however, pace wasn’t always a hallmark. In the early days, precision and control defined their bowling identity, personified by the medium-pace trio of Asif Masood, Sarfraz Nawaz, and Saleem Altaf. The notion of an express fast bowler seemed distant—until the rise of Imran Khan. His evolution from a disciplined medium-pacer to a relentless speedster marked not just a personal metamorphosis but a pivotal shift in Pakistan’s cricketing philosophy.

The Catalyst: Sussex and Leadership 

Imran’s transformation began in the mid-1970s, catalyzed by two significant developments. His move to Sussex brought him into proximity with John Snow, England’s premier fast bowler, whose fiery spells offered a blueprint for aggression and hostility. Around the same time, Mushtaq Mohammad, Pakistan’s newly appointed captain, gave Imran the new ball, urging him to embrace his natural athleticism and unleash his latent pace. 

The results were immediate and dramatic. A 2-0 series win against New Zealand in 1976–77, featuring 14 wickets from Imran, hinted at his potential. But it was the subsequent tour of Australia—a fortress where the mighty West Indies had been dismantled—that would cement his place in cricketing lore and redefine Pakistan’s cricketing future. 

The Defining Test: Sydney 1977

By the time Pakistan arrived in Sydney for the third Test of the series, Australia had already inflicted a humiliating defeat at the MCG, thrashing Pakistan by 348 runs. Imran Khan, still considered a “medium-pacer” with just 25 wickets in six years, was not expected to pose a significant threat. Sarfraz Nawaz, his senior partner, was marginally more dangerous, but Australia’s batters viewed Pakistan’s pace attack with little concern. 

Greg Chappell’s decision to bat first on a cracked Sydney pitch surprised many, including Mushtaq Mohammad. The early overs appeared to validate his decision—until Imran Khan stepped in. From the outset, it was clear this was no ordinary performance. Bowling with searing pace, steepling bounce, and pinpoint accuracy, Imran delivered a career-defining spell. His in-swingers, later to become his signature, proved devastating, and Australia’s formidable batting lineup crumbled under relentless pressure. 

Imran claimed his maiden five-wicket haul, finishing with figures of 6 for 102 as Australia were bowled out for 211. His newfound speed and aggression were complemented by Sarfraz’s guile, and for the first time in the series, Pakistan’s bowlers looked capable of dominating. 

The Asif Iqbal Masterclass

If Imran’s spell provided hope, Asif Iqbal’s innings transformed it into belief. Responding to Australia’s 211, Pakistan found themselves teetering at 111 for 4. Enter Asif, who built partnerships with Haroon Rasheed and Javed Miandad, crafting a majestic 120 that secured a vital lead of 149 runs. His innings, marked by elegance and resolve, were a testament to his stature as one of Pakistan’s finest batters. 

Unyielding Hostility: Imran’s Second Spell

The true magic of the Sydney Test, however, unfolded in Australia’s second innings. Imran, undeterred by the sweltering heat and hard run-up, bowled 19 consecutive eight-ball overs with unrelenting hostility. Each delivery was a statement, thudding into the gloves of Wasim Bari with an audible crack that reverberated through the ground. His pace increased with every over, and by stumps on Day 3, Australia were reeling at 180 for 9. 

The conditions tested every ounce of his endurance, but Imran’s aggression only grew. He bowled with such venom that umpire Tom Brooks issued a warning for excessive bouncers, a rare acknowledgement of the terror he was inflicting on Australia’s batters. 

Imran’s figures of 6 for 63 in the second innings left Pakistan needing just 32 runs to secure their first Test victory on Australian soil. Despite Dennis Lillee’s brief fightback, Majid Khan’s aggressive stroke play ensured Pakistan crossed the line with ease. 

The Aftermath: Legacy Forged in Fire

Sydney 1977 was more than a match; it was a watershed moment. Imran Khan’s transformation from a serviceable medium-pacer to a fiery fast bowler marked the genesis of Pakistan’s fast-bowling legacy. This performance laid the foundation for a lineage of pacers that would dominate world cricket for decades, from the artistry of Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis to the raw aggression of Shoaib Akhtar. 

For Pakistan, the victory was symbolic. It announced their arrival as a force capable of challenging the best, foreshadowing the heights they would reach in the 1980s and 1990s. For Imran, it was the beginning of an illustrious journey that would see him evolve into one of the greatest cricketers in history. 

In cricket’s rich tapestry, Sydney 1977 remains a vivid chapter—a story of transformation, resilience, and the enduring power of pace. 

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

The Drama of Leadership and Legacy: Bradman’s Ashes Triumph of 1936-37

The 1936-37 Ashes series stands as one of cricket’s most dramatic and defining narratives, interweaving personal tragedy, professional challenges, and the weight of national expectation. At its center was Don Bradman, a man whose legend looms over the game but whose human vulnerabilities were laid bare in this pivotal chapter of his career. It was a saga of redemption, resilience, and reinvention, with Bradman’s journey from despair to triumph epitomizing the very essence of competitive sport.

The Weight of Captaincy

When Bradman succeeded Bill Woodfull as Australian captain after the 1934 Ashes, he inherited not just the mantle of leadership but also the fractures within the team and the expectations of a cricket-obsessed nation. Unlike his predecessor, Bradman had minimal captaincy experience, having never led a state side. The South Australian selectors, sensing the need to prepare him for leadership, controversially replaced Vic Richardson with Bradman as captain. This decision sowed seeds of discord within the team, particularly with Richardson, Clarrie Grimmett, and Bill O’Reilly—players whose relationships with Bradman would remain fraught.

The tension reached a boiling point during the 1936-37 series when Bradman omitted Grimmett, then the leading wicket-taker in Test cricket, in favor of Frank Ward. Grimmett’s exclusion was justified on the grounds of age and Ward’s superior performance in a preceding match, but whispers of personal animosity persisted. This decision, coupled with Bradman’s perceived aloofness, further alienated him from sections of his team and the Australian public.

The Tragedy of Brisbane

The first Test at Brisbane was a nightmare for Bradman. Just days before the match, he lost his first child, a personal tragedy that cast a long shadow over his leadership. The game itself was a disaster: Australia, chasing 381, collapsed for 58 on a sticky wicket, with Bradman contributing just 0 and 38 in two innings. England’s captain, Gubby Allen, noted Bradman’s visible unease, a sentiment echoed by the press, which lambasted his leadership and form.

This was not just a defeat—it was a public humiliation. The media, unforgiving as ever, questioned Bradman’s capacity to lead, while whispers of discontent within the team grew louder. Bradman later reflected in Farewell to Cricket: “There was certainly a section of the public who thought the cares of captaincy were undermining my efficiency.”

Sydney: A Rain-Soaked Debacle

The second Test at Sydney offered little respite. England, batting first, capitalized on a favorable toss to post 426-6, with Wally Hammond’s majestic 231 anchoring the innings. Rain on the rest day transformed the pitch into a treacherous minefield, and Bradman’s dismissal for a duck—his third in four balls—only compounded Australia’s woes. The team folded for 80 in their first innings, and despite a spirited second-innings fightback led by Fingleton (73), Bradman (82), and Stan McCabe (91), Australia fell short by an innings and 22 runs.

The knives were out. The press excoriated Bradman’s leadership, his decision-making, and even his batting. CB Fry famously described Bradman’s dismissal as “the worst stroke in the history of cricket.” Calls for his resignation grew louder, but Bradman remained defiant: “It would be sheer cowardice to abandon what appeared to be a sinking ship.”

Melbourne: The Turning Point

The third Test at Melbourne marked the beginning of one of the greatest comebacks in cricket history. Rain once again played a decisive role, turning the pitch into a spinner’s paradise. In a tactical masterstroke, Bradman declared Australia’s first innings at 200-9, forcing England to bat on the deteriorating surface. England struggled to 76-9 before Allen declared, prompting Bradman to counter with an unconventional move: sending tail-enders O’Reilly and Fleetwood-Smith to open the innings.

This audacious strategy paid dividends, as Bradman and Fingleton then added a record-breaking 346 for the sixth wicket. Bradman’s 270, an innings of immense concentration and technical mastery, remains one of the finest in cricket history. Wisden would later rank it as the greatest Test innings of all time. Australia’s eventual victory by 365 runs breathed new life into the series and silenced Bradman’s critics, at least temporarily.

Adelaide: The Tide Turns

With momentum firmly on their side, Australia took control in the fourth Test at Adelaide. Bradman’s 212, a measured and authoritative innings, set the stage for a comprehensive 148-run victory. England’s batting faltered once again, with Fleetwood-Smith’s wrist spin proving decisive. The Ashes, which had seemed all but lost after the first two Tests, were now tantalizingly within reach.

The Decider in Melbourne

The fifth Test was a fitting finale to a series of epic proportions. Batting first, Australia piled on 604, with Bradman’s scintillating 169 leading the charge. England, plagued by dropped catches and inconsistent batting, were unable to recover. Rain intervened once more, and O’Reilly’s guile with the ball sealed England’s fate. Australia’s innings-and-200-run victory completed a remarkable turnaround, with Bradman becoming the first captain to win a series after being 0-2 down.

Legacy and Reflection

The 1936-37 Ashes series was more than just a contest between bat and ball; it was a crucible in which Bradman’s leadership and character were tested. His decisions—some controversial, others inspired—shaped the outcome of the series and cemented his legacy as one of cricket’s greatest tacticians.

Yet, the series also highlighted the complexities of Bradman’s personality. His strained relationships with teammates, his unyielding pursuit of excellence, and his ability to thrive under immense pressure made him a polarizing figure. The triumph of 1936-37 was as much a testament to his resilience as it was to his cricketing genius. It remains one of the most extraordinary chapters in the history of the Ashes, a story of redemption written by a man who refused to bow to adversity.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Against All Odds: Shakib Al Hasan's stellar 2011 journey

 

In the unpredictable realm of cricket, where fortunes can shift with the gust of a breeze, few individuals possess the charisma and confidence to leave an indelible mark. Representing one of the weaker teams on the global stage, it takes an extraordinary individual to emerge as the world’s number one allrounder. In 2011, that remarkable individual was Shakib Al Hasan, a prodigious talent hailing from Magura, Bangladesh—a feat that still commands admiration.

The year commenced on a bitter note for Shakib. As captain, he grappled with the immense expectations of a nation—over 160 million dreams resting on his shoulders. The mounting pressures led to a tumultuous relationship with the Bangladesh Cricket Board, resulting in the loss of his captaincy and thrusting him into a maelstrom of chaos and controversy. Yet, within this turmoil, Shakib’s innate resilience began to surface.

What sets Shakib apart is not merely his skill but his champion’s mentality—the ability to shake off frustrations and rebound with even greater vigor. As 2011 progressed, he transformed adversity into opportunity, showcasing his brilliance with bat and ball. Throughout the year, Shakib amassed 564 runs at an average of 33.18, while excelling in the Test arena, where he scored 451 runs at an impressive average of 50.11. 

His prowess as a bowler was equally formidable; Shakib was not just a wicket-taker but a genuine threat to opposing batsmen. In the third ODI against the West Indies, his performance was instrumental in restricting them to a meager total. In the Test matches against both West Indies and Pakistan, he demonstrated surgical precision with the ball, effectively dismantling batting line-ups that often outclassed his teammates.

Throughout five Tests, Shakib captured 21 wickets at an average of 28.61, with a strike rate of 61.8 and an economy rate of 2.77. In the ODI format, his performance was equally commendable, with 25 wickets from 25 matches at an average of 28.08 and an economy rate of 4.33. His statistical feats reflect not only his capability but his unwavering commitment to the game.

Shakib's accomplishments also etched his name in the annals of cricketing history. His remarkable 144 against Pakistan, coupled with a six-wicket haul, marked only the ninth instance in Test cricket where an allrounder has achieved such a dual feat. This was the seventh occurrence in the history of Test cricket and the second in the subcontinent, following in the footsteps of the legendary Imran Khan, who first achieved this against India in Faisalabad during the 1982-83 season.

In a team often beset by struggles, Shakib’s brilliance shone through. Unlike his fellow batsmen, who frequently succumbed to mental clutter, he maintained a clarity of purpose, executing his skills against even the most formidable opponents. As the year unfolded, Shakib emerged as the sole beacon of hope for Bangladesh, a shining star amidst the shadows of a challenging cricketing landscape.

In essence, Shakib Al Hasan’s journey in 2011 was not merely about numbers and records; it was a testament to his indomitable spirit and extraordinary talent, a narrative of resilience that continues to inspire a generation of cricketers in Bangladesh and beyond.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

 

The Year of Redemption: Pakistan Cricket's renaissance under Misbah-ul-Haq

The year 2011 marked a pivotal chapter in Pakistan cricket—a phoenix-like resurgence from the ashes of controversy. After being engulfed by the spot-fixing scandal of 2010, many believed Pakistan would struggle to regain its composure. Yet, Pakistan did more than just survive—it thrived. The team registered 24 ODI victories against only seven losses and remained undefeated in the Test series throughout the year. A feat to savour and the credit for this transformation belongs largely to a man whose calm demeanour and stoic leadership redefined the spirit of Pakistani cricket—*Misbah-ul-Haq*.  

On the surface, Misbah’s presence seems unassuming. His measured gait and quiet personality mask a sharp cricketing mind, capable of orchestrating order within a notoriously mercurial side. It’s easy to forget that Misbah was an unlikely candidate for captaincy when appointed in 2010. With only Jeff Lawson—Pakistan’s former coach—backing him, few believed Misbah could command the respect of a side often riddled with factionalism. Yet, series after series, the unshakeable calm that he exuded began to permeate the dressing room, transforming individualistic performers into a synchronized unit.  

Misbah’s ascent began in New Zealand with a Test series victory, setting the tone for what would be an unforgettable year. A drawn series in the Caribbean was followed by comprehensive triumphs over Zimbabwe, Sri Lanka, and Bangladesh. With each success, Pakistan rediscovered not just their form but their soul. For the first time since 1996, they finished a calendar year unbeaten in the Test series—an achievement that held a deeper resonance. Unlike the star-studded team of 1996, brimming with legends like Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis, Saeed Anwar, and Mushtaq Ahmed, this was a team built on grit rather than flair, resilience rather than reputation.  

In the absence of marquee players, the side flourished under Misbah’s steady hand. His players—some young, others seasoned—responded not just to the game but to their captain. Misbah instilled in them a belief that transcended personal ambitions. They played not as a group of soloists vying for the spotlight but as an orchestra harmonizing under his baton. When the team needed him the most, Misbah became the torchbearer, guiding Pakistan out of the darkness left by scandal and distrust.  

Amid internal discord—most notably the clash between Shahid Afridi and coach Waqar Younis—Misbah remained steadfast. While the two giants were embroiled in public skirmishes, Misbah focused relentlessly on the task at hand, his leadership unaffected by external chaos. His personal form flourished under the weight of responsibility: in Test cricket, he amassed *765 runs at an impressive average of 69.54*. His cool head at the crease embodied the stability he brought to Pakistan cricket both on and off the field.  

Afridi’s rift with the Pakistan Cricket Board saw him relinquish the ODI captaincy, thrusting Misbah into the limited-overs role. Many doubted his suitability for the shorter format, yet Misbah silenced sceptics with his results. He captained Pakistan to 13 victories in 14 ODIs, cementing his credentials as a leader for all formats. Afridi dazzled with his mercurial brilliance, Hafeez found form with both bat and ball and Saeed Ajmal delivered mesmerizing spells throughout the year—but none bore the burden of leadership like Misbah. In a team known for its volatility, Misbah brought tranquillity.  

Under his stewardship, the dressing room was swept clean of the toxic politics that had plagued it for years. Young players now had a leader they could trust, someone who offered them not just a place in the squad but a sense of belonging. The air in the Pakistan camp felt fresher, freer—like a breeze from the snow-clad mountains that frame the nation. Where there had once been discord, there was now unity. Misbah’s most profound achievement lay not just in victories but in restoring the ethos of *teamwork*, a rare treasure in the world of Pakistan cricket.  

As Pakistan looked toward 2012, the optimism was palpable. Misbah had not only led them to victory but to a deeper understanding of what it meant to play as one. His leadership embodied the art of patience, responsibility, and quiet action. In a game where flair often overshadows substance, Misbah proved that sometimes, the loudest triumphs are those earned in silence.  

For Pakistan cricket, 2011 was not just a successful year—it was a year of redemption. And at the heart of this revival stood Misbah-ul-Haq, the unassuming yet indomitable leader. In every respect, he was the player of the year for Pakistan, not because he dazzled with sixes or fiery spells, but because he gave the team something it desperately needed—a guiding light in its darkest hour.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar