In the grand theatre of Test cricket, where momentum shifts like desert sands, Pakistan’s victory at the Sydney Cricket Ground was a resounding statement of intent. Though Australia had already secured the series, their air of invincibility faltered as Mushtaq Ahmed’s mesmerizing leg-spin exposed their vulnerabilities once more. His skiddy, deceptive deliveries—perfectly suited to the slow-turning SCG pitch—left Australia gasping for answers. For the second consecutive Test, he claimed nine wickets, reducing the hosts to an ensemble of hesitant, uncertain batsmen.
This was no ordinary victory. It was a tale of grit,
defiance, and Pakistan’s ability to turn adversity into artistry. Against the
odds, their first-innings 299 proved the highest total of the match, a
statistic that spoke volumes about the challenging batting conditions. At its
heart stood Ijaz Ahmed, a batsman often overshadowed by his more flamboyant
teammates, yet a man who had forged his own niche as an unyielding adversary
against Australia.
Ijaz Ahmed: The Pillar
of Pakistan’s Innings
Ijaz's innings was an exhibition of patience and calculated
strokeplay. His hundred, painstakingly assembled over nearly seven and a half
hours, was less about flamboyance and more about survival. He was content to
defend doggedly, nudging singles and waiting for rare scoring opportunities.
His progress from 89 to 97 was fraught with anxiety, two thick edges trickling
past the slips, but destiny favoured his determination. In the final over of the
day, he reached his century in style, cutting Craig McDermott over point—a
moment of release in an otherwise restrained innings.
Yet, cricket is cruel in its unpredictability. On 137,
having endured the toils of attritional batting, he gifted his wicket away,
slapping a knee-high full toss from Shane Warne straight to Glenn McGrath at
deep backward square. It was a dismissal devoid of Warne’s famed sorcery,
relying instead on sheer misfortune.
Pakistan’s middle order, sensing an opportunity to build a
formidable total, initially played with ambition. Salim Malik, stepping into a
cauldron of hostility from the Sydney crowd, met the moment with irony—raising
his bat in mock appreciation of the jeers. His was an innings of steely
resolve, including a memorable passage where he struck McGrath for three
consecutive cover-driven boundaries. But just as Pakistan dreamed of a total
exceeding 400, their progress was stymied.
Wasim Akram, ever the mercurial force, provided a brief but
thrilling interlude, smashing four boundaries in five deliveries off McDermott.
Yet, the lower order could not sustain the momentum, and Pakistan’s innings
folded at 299—good, but not definitive.
Mushtaq Ahmed’s Spell
of Genius
When Australia closed the second day at 151 for three, they
appeared well-placed to dictate terms. But the third morning belonged to
Mushtaq Ahmed, who wove a web of deception that unravelled the hosts. Every
great leg-spinner possesses an element of mystery, and Mushtaq had his in
abundance—his quick arm action, sharp turn, and subtle variations leaving Australia
in disarray.
His most telling breakthrough was the dismissal of Steve
Waugh, a batsman renowned for his imperturbable temperament. Luring Waugh down
the track—a rarity in itself—Mushtaq beat him in flight, leaving Rashid Latif
to whip off the bails. It was a wicket that shifted the balance of the
contest.
Equally brilliant was the dismissal of Greg Blewett, undone
by a delivery that floated in before sharply breaking away—an illusion of an
in-swinger that left him bewildered. Australia’s innings crumbled, and their
eventual total of 257 meant Pakistan carried a 42-run lead into the second
innings. The only source of solace for the hosts was Mark Waugh, whose
masterful 116—his first Test century at his home ground—stood apart from the
wreckage.
The Warne Factor and
Pakistan’s Stumble
If there was one man who could rescue Australia, it was
Shane Warne. Returning from injury, he needed no invitation to make his
presence felt. His first real intervention was as much psychological as it was
skilful. Identifying Basit Ali as a mentally fragile batsman, Warne, in
concert with Ian Healy, engaged him in a lengthy mid-pitch discussion, probing
for weakness. The ploy worked. Moments later, Basit misjudged a delivery and
was bowled through his legs while attempting to pad it away—an ignominious
dismissal that underscored Warne’s ability to manipulate minds as well as
cricket balls.
Pakistan’s innings unravelled from there. The final six wickets tumbled for 103 runs, as McDermott, summoning one last spell of venom, claimed four wickets for 11 runs in 35 deliveries. His ferocity was particularly vital in the absence of Paul Reiffel, who had succumbed to a torn hamstring.
Pakistan Strike
With a target of 247, Australia’s chase was finely poised.
At 121 for three on the final morning, the equation was tantalizingly balanced.
Mark Taylor, well-set on 59, was the key. But in a moment of uncharacteristic
misjudgment, he charged down the pitch at Mushtaq and was comprehensively
stumped. It was a dismissal that shattered Australia’s resolve.
Waqar Younis, with one eye on the upcoming World Cup,
delivered the knockout blow. Relentless and rapid, he scythed through the lower
order, his reverse swing making short work of the tail. Before lunch, Pakistan
had sealed victory, a triumph that, while not altering the series result,
carried immense psychological weight.
Beyond the Scorecard:
A Statement of Intent
In a broader context, this victory was a reminder of
Pakistan’s ability to challenge the best. Australia had been the superior team
over the series, but this match proved that Pakistan, when at their sharpest,
possessed the firepower to dismantle any opposition.
For Mushtaq Ahmed, it was a performance that reinforced his
status as a world-class leg-spinner, someone who could torment even the most
assured batsmen. For Ijaz Ahmed, it was an innings of immense character, a
reminder that persistence often trumps flair.
And for Australia, it was a lesson in complacency. The
series may have been won, but their vulnerabilities had been laid bare. Against
a Pakistan side brimming with mercurial brilliance, even the smallest lapses
could be ruthlessly exploited.
Cricket, after all, is a game of fine margins. And at the SCG, those margins belonged to Pakistan.
Thank You
Faisal Caesar
