Few teams in world cricket evoke such contrasting emotions as Pakistan. They are, at once, a riddle and a force of nature, capable of soaring brilliance and baffling collapse. Just when you expect them to ignite the arena, they somehow set their own feet on fire. Yet, when the opposition thinks they have been humiliated enough, Pakistan responds with a brutal reversal—smacking backs, slapping faces, and landing jabs to the ribs that leave their rivals gasping for air. And just when you try to make sense of them, the enigma deepens. No one—not statisticians, analysts, or cricketing sages—has ever managed to define the Pakistan cricket team.
Their governing body, the Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB), is a carousel of leadership changes—spinning in circles without a clear destination. Even railway engines know their destinations; the PCB does not. The country’s sports media is an arena of blame, where critics bicker endlessly, often as much with each other as with India, the eternal rival. Fans, always passionate, remain on a rollercoaster of emotions—swinging between despair and delirium. Tales of in-fighting, ego clashes, political interference, and wasted talent haunt their history. Yet despite the absence of a definitive system, Pakistan produces extraordinary players who emerge seemingly from nowhere, defying logic to win improbable matches.
The 2023 World Cup: A Mixed Bag
This year’s ICC Cricket World Cup in India has been another chapter in Pakistan’s unpredictable saga. They scraped past the Netherlands in an unconvincing start, dismantled Sri Lanka in a high-scoring thriller, and were annihilated by India. Against Australia, they looked like schoolboys chasing leather. Afghanistan exploited their tactical cluelessness. And just when hope flickered, they snatched defeat from the jaws of victory against South Africa, leaving hearts shattered across Pakistan.
It felt like the story was over—Pakistan’s campaign seemed dead and buried. But this is Pakistan, after all. Freakishly fractious. Perpetually mysterious. Unpredictably brilliant.
A Tale of Two Matches: Australia and New Zealand
In Bangalore, Australia handed Pakistan a tactical lesson. Choosing to bowl first, Pakistan invited David Warner to feast on their wayward bowling. Australia’s batters plundered a mountain of runs, and although Pakistan's response began promisingly, they unravelled—as they often do. Warner found his form, Adam Zampa rediscovered his bite, and Pakistan’s fielding deteriorated to comical levels.
Then came a crucial encounter against New Zealand—an injury-stricken side that Pakistan had every reason to exploit. Winning the toss seemed a simple enough task: bat first, use Fakhar Zaman's firepower, and hammer the Kiwis on a flat pitch with short boundaries. Instead, Pakistan’s pace-dominated attack backfired spectacularly. Kane Williamson and Rachin Ravindra unleashed mayhem, piling on 400 runs while exposing the frailties of Pakistan’s bowling.
Shaheen Shah Afridi, hailed as the world’s best bowler by the ICC rankings, became a pale shadow of himself. Leaking 90 runs in his quota of 10 overs, Afridi broke a dubious record—only for Haris Rauf, who had earlier conceded 85, to hold the "achievement" briefly. The comedy of errors was complete, and Pakistan's defensive fielding offered no respite.
As New Zealand toyed with Pakistan’s bowlers, putting on 140 runs in the final 14 overs, it felt like the last nail in the coffin. Hopes dwindled, and fans braced for another grim farewell—this one destined for Lahore airport at the end of the group stage.
But This is Pakistan
And then, as if from nowhere, Pakistan roared back. Enter Fakhar Zaman. Before this match, his recent performances read like a tale of mediocrity—scores of 4, 30, 27, 4, and 12. Yet against Bangladesh in Kolkata, he rediscovered his mojo, and now, in this do-or-die match, he wielded his bat like Muhammad Ali’s fists. His strokes weren’t just hits; they stung like bee swarms.
In the third over, Fakhar smashed Trent Boult for two fours and a six, turning what should have been a measured start into a fiery statement. The 17 runs Boult conceded marked his most expensive over in World Cup history. Boult’s next over went for 16 more, as Babar Azam, playing the sheet-anchor role, elegantly punctuated Fakhar’s fireworks with crisp drives.
Tim Southee and Mitchell Santner fared no better. Fakhar treated the white ball as though it were a football, dispatching it beyond Bangalore’s boundaries with glee. Glenn Phillips experienced firsthand what it means to be dismantled, and Santner was taken apart ruthlessly. Pakistan was in the zone, and when Pakistan enters that zone, cricket ceases to follow earthly logic. It becomes a cosmic spectacle. The stars realign. The multiverse smiles. And—just as the crowd began to believe—the heavens opened.
Rain poured down, and Pakistan found themselves 10 runs ahead according to the DLS method. When play resumed, Pakistan danced through the revised chase of 342 in 41 overs. Fakhar, undeterred, continued his rampage. Ish Sodhi, introduced into the attack, was thrashed for 32 in two overs. By the time rain intervened for good, Pakistan had done enough. The match was abandoned. Pakistan, improbably, emerged victorious.
Defying Logic, Yet Again
Analysts are still scratching their heads. Fans are still reeling. New Zealand, battered and bewildered, have no answers. And the cricketing gods, as they so often do when Pakistan is involved, are left puzzled—unable to make sense of how this mercurial team continues to defy every rule of cricketing logic.
In the end, it’s futile to define Pakistan cricket. It is chaos embodied, beauty in disorder. They are a team that refuses to be pinned down by statistics, patterns, or logic. One day, they burn their own house down; the next, they storm your castle. And just when you think they are finished, they reappear—victorious, unpredictable, and unstoppable. This is Pakistan. Freakish, mysterious, and always worth watching.
Thank You
Faisal Caesar
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