This was not merely a Test match; it was an examination conducted by a treacherous pitch. Uneven bounce, erratic lift, and a surface that oscillated between docile and demonic turned every defensive stroke into a wager. But difficult surfaces do not create collapses on their own. Undisciplined batting amplified what high-class fast bowling merely exposed.
The pattern of the series crystallised here: quality pace
appeared almost supernatural because technique faltered under pressure. On such
terrain, the margin between survival and surrender narrowed to a fraction of a
second.
And in that fraction operated two masters.
Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis: Milestones Forged in Fire
The match belonged to Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis, not
merely in numbers, but in presence.
Wasim Akram: 9 for 93 in the match
Waqar Younis: 6 for 81
Both crossed major career landmarks:200 and 150 Test wickets
respectively
These were not hollow statistical achievements. They were
milestones chiselled out of hostility and control.
Wasim, bowling with relentless rhythm, made the pitch his
ally. His left-arm angle, late movement and unerring control of length
transformed uncertainty into inevitability. Batsmen were not dismissed; they
were unravelled.
Waqar, operating with pace that felt personal, attacked the
stumps with venom. If Wasim seduced with skill, Waqar assaulted with speed.
Together they represented the two philosophical poles of fast bowling, art and
aggression, yet merged seamlessly into a single force.
It was not simply that they took wickets. It was that they
dictated psychological tempo. Every defensive prod felt like a temporary truce.
Even Simon Doull, claiming seven for 114 through pronounced
swing rather than sheer pace, seemed part of a fast-bowling concerto in which
Wasim and Waqar were the principal soloists.
A Deceptive Calm: New Zealand’s First Innings
Salim Malik, captaining Pakistan for the first time,
inserted New Zealand — a decision that soon appeared instinctively correct. Yet
the early hours offered no omen of destruction. At lunch, New Zealand were 67
for one. The match breathed normally.
Then the collapse began, not dramatically, but surgically.
Rashid Latif, sharp and tireless behind the stumps,
collected nine dismissals, a Pakistan Test record. His gloves were the
punctuation to Wasim and Waqar’s prose.
Ken Rutherford Jones (correcting contextually: Jones)
produced New Zealand’s most composed innings, orthodox, confident, resistant.
For a fleeting passage, Mark Greatbatch supported him with 48 from 34 balls,
assaulting Mushtaq Ahmed before misreading the googly and slicing to cover.
That dismissal at 170 altered the mood.
When Jones followed five runs later, the innings fractured.
The middle and lower order dissolved quickly, as though aware resistance was
futile. The pitch did not worsen; the pressure did.
Pakistan’s Vulnerability, and Inzamam’s Defiance
Pakistan’s reply revealed that the surface was impartial in
its cruelty. Four wickets fell for 50. Soon it was 93 for six. The match
threatened symmetry.
Enter Inzamam-ul-Haq.
His counterattack carried echoes of his World Cup semi-final
heroics on this ground. Where others defended tentatively, he imposed rhythm.
It was dynamic, instinctive, disruptive. The tail contributed intelligently,
narrowing the deficit to just 27 — a margin that felt insignificant given the
conditions.
De Groen extracted steep bounce; Doull maintained
discipline. But the psychological advantage still tilted toward Pakistan’s pace
axis.
Wasim’s Spell: The Match Turns Violent
New Zealand’s second innings lasted just 32.1 overs.
Wasim Akram bowled throughout.
That statistic alone explains the collapse.
New Zealand were 44 for six before Cairns and Doull lashed
their way past 100. It was not construction; it was survival thrashing. Thirty
wickets had fallen in two days — the match reduced to an accelerated drama.
Wasim’s spell was not simply destructive; it was
authoritative. The line, the control, the refusal to relent, this was bowling
that announced hierarchy. On a volatile pitch, he was the constant.
Waqar’s role complemented it: sharp bursts, attacking
lengths, relentless pressure. If Wasim closed doors, Waqar sealed windows.
Together, they ensured that 138 — modest by conventional
standards — felt mountainous yet attainable.
The Final Passage: Control Amid Chaos
Chasing 138, Pakistan faltered early. Saeed Anwar and Asif
Mujtaba departed cheaply. The fragility resurfaced.
But Aamir Sohail played the decisive innings of the match.
Ten fours and a six, carefully calibrated aggression. He chose his moments with
intelligence, a rare commodity in a low-scoring Test.
New Zealand’s final hope evaporated through missed chances:
Greatbatch spilled a slip catch; Blain dropped an under-edge. Young eventually
claimed his sixth catch of the match, a New Zealand record, but by then the
narrative had moved beyond rescue.
Rashid Latif ended proceedings with a six to mid-wicket.
Pakistan won by five wickets with more than half the available playing time
unused.
The Larger Meaning: Pace as Identity
Beyond the scorecard, this Test reaffirmed Pakistan’s
defining cricketing identity.
On unstable surfaces, discipline is survival. But genius is
domination.
Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis did not merely exploit
conditions; they elevated them. Their milestones,200 and 150 wickets, were
symbolic markers in a broader story: Pakistan’s fast-bowling lineage asserting
itself once more.
The pitch created uncertainty.
The batsmen created collapses.
But Wasim and Waqar created inevitability.
And in that inevitability lay the match.
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