Salim Malik’s Defiance and Australia’s Ghosts

Once again, Salim Malik stood like a man wading through quicksand, steadying Pakistan from another slide into the familiar abyss. Australia, meanwhile, conquered every facet of the contest except the one that mattered — the scoreboard. Their own hands betrayed them: five dropped catches, four of them in the first innings, as if the ghosts of Karachi and Lahore were conspiring to remind them that ruthlessness is more a state of mind than a technique.

Malik had chosen to bat on a surface that was soft and hesitant, its top layer deceptive, its pace uneven. It was a decision not born of boldness but of necessity. Within hours of the toss, Pakistan’s spearheads — Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis — had withdrawn, “officially” injured but, to the more cynical, casualties of a deeper dressing-room schism. That left Malik with an attack as brittle as it was brave: Aqib Javed shouldering too much, and Mohsin Kamal returning after seven long years in exile from Test cricket — an exile that said more about Pakistan’s selection chaos than about the man himself.

The Australians, too, arrived limping from their own private infirmary. Ian Healy’s left thumb was fractured, Steve Waugh’s shoulder damaged, and debutant Phil Emery, flown in as emergency cover, promptly bruised his own thumb. This was a team stitched together by defiance more than by fitness, and that fragility seeped into their cricket.

Only two days earlier, they had lifted the limited-overs trophy, jubilant and unguarded. But joy can dull the edge of discipline. When the Test began, they were sloppy, perhaps still caught between celebration and fatigue. Inzamam-ul-Haq was dropped on one and made 66. Ijaz Ahmed, controversially recalled on the back of fleeting one-day form, was also reprieved early on his way to 48. And Moin Khan, deputizing for the injured Rashid Latif, was twice granted life — on 51 and 70 — before converting it into his maiden Test century: an unbeaten 115 laced with 13 fours and three audacious sixes. Pakistan’s 373 felt spirited, if not impregnable — the kind of total that mocked the opponent’s wastefulness.

Yet Australia, as they had done all series, clawed their way back. Half-centuries from Slater, Mark Waugh, the serene Bevan, and a composed Justin Langer gave them an 82-run lead — their third such advantage in as many Tests. But leads in the subcontinent are only illusions until converted into victories.

Then came the rhythm of Glenn McGrath’s rebirth — tall, cold, relentless. He sliced through Pakistan’s fragile top order with surgical precision, restoring Australian belief. By the dawn of the final day, Pakistan were just 55 runs ahead with five wickets standing. The finish seemed preordained.

But Malik was not done rewriting scripts. Across two days — two hundred minutes on the fourth, three hundred on the fifth — he stitched together an innings of quiet ferocity. His strokes were less aggression than endurance, each one a rebuttal to fate. Around him, players found renewed purpose. Aamir Sohail, nursing a stiff neck so severe he had worn a brace the previous afternoon, was coaxed back into defiance. Together, they forged a 196-run stand in just over three and a half hours — an alliance that turned Australian certainty into resignation.

Even Shane Warne, that conjurer of collapse, could only toil in weary admiration. His three wickets for 104 in the second innings brought his match haul to nine for 240 — heroic numbers, yet ones that spoke of exhaustion more than domination. Seventy-one overs of relentless spin had left his right shoulder the subject of concern, as if the burden of rescuing Australia’s destiny had finally begun to exact its toll.

When the final wicket refused to fall, and Malik walked off unbeaten, the day felt heavier than a draw. It was a lesson — that courage often wears the mask of pragmatism, that beauty in cricket is not always in flight but in survival. Australia had controlled the match; Pakistan had captured its soul.

 Thank You

Faisal Caesar

 

Pakistan vs. Australia, 1994: A Battle of Will and Craft in Rawalpindi

Test cricket, at its finest, is a test of patience, resilience, and adaptability. It does not merely entertain—it interrogates the very essence of a cricketer’s temperament, probing for flaws and exposing weaknesses. The Pakistan-Australia series of 1994 was a case study in this enduring examination of character, where two teams, locked in transition, contested a series that would go on to shape their cricketing destinies.

The Prologue: A Shift in Leadership 

Mark Taylor had inherited the Australian captaincy from Allan Border, stepping into the shoes of a legend. The mission was clear: reclaim Australia’s dominance in Test cricket. Their ultimate goal lay months ahead—toppling the mighty West Indies in their own backyard—but before that, they had to conquer Pakistan, a fortress that had humbled many visiting teams before them.

Pakistan, too, was navigating a post-Miandad era. The void left by the street-smart genius of Javed Miandad was daunting, but the team was not short of firepower. The top order boasted the elegance of Saeed Anwar and Aamir Sohail, the promise of Inzamam-ul-Haq, and the enigmatic artistry of Salim Malik, who had been entrusted with the captaincy. Supporting them was a bowling attack feared across the cricketing world—Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis, reverse swing’s most lethal exponents, backed by the wily leg-spinner Mushtaq Ahmed.

The Karachi Test: A Study in Chaos and Brilliance

The first Test at Karachi unfolded as a classic, a battle between precision and perseverance. Wasim Akram’s eight wickets (8 for 138) and Waqar Younis’ seven (7 for 144) kept Australia in check, but David Boon’s resilient 114* was the backbone of a total that placed the visitors in command. From 171 for 2, Australia’s second innings unravelled spectacularly to 232 all out, a collapse engineered by the unrelenting reverse swing of Pakistan’s pace duo.

Pakistan’s chase of 314, however, turned into a labyrinth of despair. Shane Warne, weaving his magic on a wearing pitch, threatened to strangle the life out of the pursuit, claiming 8 for 150. At 184 for 7, Pakistan teetered on the edge of defeat. But cricket, ever the unpredictable beast, had other plans. Inzamam-ul-Haq and Rashid Latif fought with defiant resolve, adding 52 runs that breathed life into a waning chase. Mushtaq Ahmed, an unlikely hero, provided the final support as Inzamam steered Pakistan to a nerve-wracking one-wicket victory, sealing one of the most remarkable turnarounds in Test history.

The Rawalpindi Test: A Story of Redemption and Ruthlessness

With the wounds of Karachi still raw, Australia arrived in Rawalpindi determined to strike back. They introduced a debutant fast bowler named Damien Fleming, while Pakistan recalled Mohsin Kamal, once hailed as a prodigious quick but absent from the Test arena since 1987.

Malik opted to field first, trusting his bowlers to exploit early conditions. Yet, despite Wasim Akram’s gallant effort—bowling through excruciating back pain—Australia flourished. Michael Slater’s blistering 110 off 155 balls set the tone, and steady contributions from the Waugh twins, Michael Bevan, and Ian Healy propelled Australia to a commanding 521 for 9 before Taylor declared. Pakistan now faced a mountain.

Aamir Sohail’s Audacious Start, Pakistan’s Precarious Plunge

Pakistan’s response was blistering. Aamer Sohail, fearless and flamboyant, tore into the Australian attack, racing to 80 off 83 balls with exquisite strokeplay. But cricket’s equilibrium is delicate—soon, Pakistan crumbled to 198 for 8. The familiar resistance of Wasim and Waqar prolonged the innings, yet a deficit of 261 forced a humiliating follow-on.

Determined to press home the advantage, Taylor devised a ruthless plan. He had Jo Angel bowl menacing bouncers at Sohail, attempting to shake his confidence. The tactic nearly worked—Sohail mistimed a pull, the ball ballooned to Warne at deep square leg… and inexplicably, Warne spilt the chance. A lifeline had been granted.

By stumps, Pakistan had reached 324 for 2, securing a lead of 63. But the night belonged to one man—Saleem Malik.

Salim Malik’s Masterclass: An Innings for the Ages

Test cricket often bestows moments of redemption upon those who need it most, and for Malik, this was his grand reckoning. His innings was not just a counterattack—it was a statement.

Taylor, sensing the pivotal moment, had devised a plan to unsettle the Pakistani skipper. “Malik is obviously their key man,” he instructed Angel. “Let’s bowl him a good round of short ones and see how he handles them.” The first short ball after lunch had Malik fending, a thick edge carrying to Taylor at slip. The moment was there. The catch was there. And then—it wasn’t. Taylor, one of the safest hands in world cricket, had dropped him.

What followed was destruction. Malik’s first fifty came off 49 balls, laced with ten boundaries. Taylor, desperate, turned to Bevan’s part-time chinaman, but Malik was merciless, plundering 25 runs from three overs. His second fifty, though more measured, still included nine fours. When he finally drove Warne against the turn to bring up his century, the crowd erupted into applause that refused to wane.

By the time he departed for 237, Malik had orchestrated Pakistan’s resurrection. His artistry left Australia spellbound. The innings remains one of the greatest ever played by a Pakistani against Australia, a masterclass of controlled aggression and exquisite placement.

The Final Twist: Fleming’s Historic Hat-Trick

Just as Pakistan seemed untouchable, Test cricket’s penchant for drama resurfaced. Inzamam shuffled across to his first ball, was struck on the pads, and was promptly adjudged lbw. Damien Fleming, in only his second over in Test cricket, sensed an opportunity. As he ran in for his next ball, he whispered to McDermott, *“Saleem doesn’t know it yet, but he’s about to become part of Test history.”*

The delivery was perfect—a fast leg-cutter that shaped away late. Malik, on 237, reached for it, edged, and Healy gleefully accepted the catch. With that, Fleming became only the third bowler to take a hat-trick on Test debut, etching his name into cricketing folklore.

A Farcical End, A Lasting Legacy

The Test’s conclusion was almost comic. With Pakistan firmly in control, Taylor and Slater—pure batsmen—were given the ball. Each managed a wicket, their only Test scalps. Australia, facing the inevitable, extended hands in surrender. Pakistan had amassed 537, and Australia’s response was a mere formality.

Yet, beyond statistics and scorecards, this Test, much like Karachi before it, was a testament to the unpredictable beauty of the game. Australia had arrived with a point to prove, but Pakistan, fueled by resilience and artistry, had once again defied the odds.

For Saleem Malik, this was a crowning achievement. For Australia, it was a lesson in missed opportunities and relentless perseverance. For cricket, it was another chapter in the never-ending saga of triumph, heartbreak, and the eternal struggle between bat and ball. And for those who witnessed it, it was nothing short of poetry in motion.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

A Tale of Grit, Glory, and Heartbreak: Karachi 1994 – The Test That Defied Logic

Test cricket, in its purest form, does not rely on the instant gratification of a Twenty20 spectacle, where every soaring six sends a packed stadium into euphoria. Instead, it thrives on its slow burn—the gradual unravelling of narratives, the unpredictable pendulum swings, and the delicate artistry that transforms a five-day duel into an enduring epic. And no Test match better encapsulates the undying allure of the format than the Karachi classic of 1994, where Pakistan, teetering on the precipice of defeat, engineered a last-gasp heist that sent Australia spiralling into stunned silence. 

The Dawning of a New Era

For Australia, the tour to Pakistan in 1994 marked a transition period. The iron-willed Allan Border had bid farewell to the game, taking with him an era of resilience. Seasoned campaigners like Dean Jones and Geoff Marsh had also stepped aside, leaving Mark Taylor to steer a team searching for its new identity. To make matters worse, their preparations were anything but ideal. A disappointing performance in the Sri Lanka quadrangular series had already put the think tank under scrutiny. The decision to rest key players like Craig McDermott and David Boon against Sri Lanka was dissected with forensic intensity. Meanwhile, Pakistan had run riot in Sri Lanka, and despite faltering in the same quadrangular series, they remained firm favourites on home soil. 

Pakistan’s arsenal boasted two of the most menacing fast bowlers to ever grace the game—Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis. Their ability to conjure reverse swing at will have left even the most accomplished batsmen grasping at straws. Complementing their pace battery was Mushtaq Ahmed, the ever-smiling leg-spinner with a box of devilish tricks. More ominously for Australia, history was against them—no Australian side had conquered Pakistan in their own backyard since 1959. 

A Test of Attrition Begins

The first Test at Karachi commenced with Taylor winning the toss and opting to bat on a pitch that bore all the hallmarks of a spinner’s paradise. It was a strip that had been prepared just six weeks before the contest, ensuring unpredictability. Yet, luck deserted Taylor the moment he took guard. His tenure at the crease was painfully brief—a duck in the first innings, and worse still, a pair in the second. 

At 95 for four, Australia wobbled under pressure, but Steve Waugh’s unyielding grit, debutant Michael Bevan’s resolve, and Ian Healy’s street-smart batting hoisted them to a respectable 337. Given the nature of the surface, it was a total that had the potential to break Pakistan’s back. 

An Unforgiving Surface and an Unrelenting Attack

With McDermott sidelined due to an infected toe, Australia’s hopes rested on Shane Warne and Tim May, their spin twins, to exploit the treacherous surface. The raw but talented Glenn McGrath and Jo Angel provided seam options, though Karachi’s dustbowl was never going to be their ally. 

Pakistan’s response was marred by reckless dismissals and an unrelenting Australian assault. Warne and May spun a web around the middle order, while the pacers found just enough venom to make inroads. The only defiance came from Saeed Anwar, who batted with an elegance that seemed almost rebellious against the chaos unfolding around him. His fearless stroke-play, particularly his audacious lofted six off Warne, was a rare act of defiance in a crumbling innings. Even with his brilliance, Pakistan fell short, trailing by 81 runs. 

The Collapse That Redefined the Match 

Australia’s second innings began with promise. David Boon, a warrior who had stared down some of the greatest fast bowlers in history, and Mark Waugh, the artist with a willow, steadied the ship. At 171 for two, Australia were poised to bat Pakistan out of the contest. But Test cricket has an uncanny ability to script the improbable. 

Enter Wasim and Waqar, the twin architects of destruction. 

Reverse swing became their scythe, slicing through Australia’s defences with surgical precision. Waugh’s castle was rattled, and from there, a procession ensued. The defining image of that passage of play was Healy, still in his pads, scrambling to get ready after believing his services wouldn’t be required until the next day. In a blink, Australia slumped from 171 for two to 232 all out. Nine wickets had fallen to the Pakistani pacers, their mastery of reverse swing proving too formidable even for the best. 

Yet, even with the carnage, Australia still held the upper hand. A target of 314 on a pitch that had turned rogue was the cricketing equivalent of scaling Everest in a snowstorm. 

The Final Act: A Masterclass in Nerve and Chaos

Pakistan’s chase began with promise but soon unravelled. Aamer Sohail’s run-out at 44 signalled the beginning of a rollercoaster ride, and with Warne at his beguiling best, wickets tumbled in clusters. When the final morning arrived, Australia smelled blood. McGrath was out with a hamstring injury, Tim May’s stiff neck left him operating at half-strength, but none of it seemed to matter as Pakistan found themselves gasping at 184 for seven. 

But Test cricket is, at its heart, a game of belief. And at the centre of Pakistan’s last stand was a man of formidable temperament—Inzamam-ul-Haq. 

Inzamam’s masterful manipulation of Warne’s spin, his deft footwork, and his unflappable demeanour turned the tide. When Rashid Latif played an enterprising knock, and Mushtaq Ahmed emerged as an unlikely partner, Pakistan clawed their way back into the light. 

At 311 for nine, with three runs needed and one wicket remaining, the tension reached unbearable heights. Warne, the great magician, tossed one up with every ounce of skill he possessed, tempting Inzamam into a fatal dance down the track. The leg-break spun viciously past his bat, Healy lunged, a nation held its breath—and the ball slipped through his gloves, racing to the boundary for four byes. 

Silence. Stunned disbelief. Then, an explosion of euphoria. 

Pakistan had won. A Test match that had seemed lost had been seized from the clutches of despair. The Australians, devastated, sat in their dressing room in stunned quiet, unwilling to accept the cruel twist of fate. Healy, the usually impenetrable wall behind the stumps, was inconsolable. Mark Waugh later reflected, *“There’s no way we’d blame Ian, but Ian would have blamed himself… We just sat there, not saying anything, for an hour.”* 

Legacy of a Miracle

Karachi 1994 was more than just a Test match—it was an odyssey of human spirit, perseverance, and of the unrelenting drama that makes Test cricket the most poetic of all sports. It reaffirmed Pakistan’s reputation as the most mercurial force in world cricket and underscored Australia’s resilience, even in defeat. 

For Inzamam, it was the making of a legend. For Warne, it was a cruel lesson in cricket’s fickle nature. And for cricket lovers, it was the kind of spectacle that keeps the heart beating a little faster whenever Test cricket is mentioned. 

Some matches fade into history. Others become mythology. 

Karachi 1994 belongs to the latter.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar