The Once-in-a-Generation Fighters: Younis Khan and Misbah-ul-Haq

The passage of time is a curious thing. In what feels like the blink of an eye, seventeen years have slipped away since the turn of the millennium. The year 2000 seems almost like yesterday, yet it is distant enough to be marked by a profound sense of nostalgia. I remember, vividly, being bedridden with chickenpox and jaundice while Pakistan was engaged in a three-match Test series against Sri Lanka. Amidst the uncertainty of illness, a fresh face emerged on the cricketing stage—Younis Khan. His debut hundred, like so many before him, promised the arrival of a new hero. But the following years were marked by inconsistency and harsh criticism. It seemed as though Younis might join the long list of promising players whose careers fizzled out too soon: Basit Ali, Ali Naqvi, Salim Elahi, Yasir Hameed, and Taufiq Umar, to name a few.

Yet, in the third Test at Bengaluru, something changed. Younis Khan, now more mature and wiser, showcased a transformation. His hunger for runs was palpable, his temperament steely. A double century and a half-century not only secured his place in the team but also marked the moment when his career found its true calling. This was not the story of a fleeting talent, but of a man who had found his resolve—his ability to rise to the occasion had been tested, and he had passed with flying colours. Bob Woolmer, who had placed his faith in Younis time and again, must have breathed a sigh of relief.

The Journey of Younis Khan: From Criticism to Greatness

Younis Khan’s journey was never one of effortless flair like Mohammad Yousuf or Zaheer Abbas, but it was one of indomitable grit and unyielding resolve. While others may have dazzled with their elegance, Younis stood firm as the cornerstone of Pakistan’s batting line-up, particularly at number three. It is a role that, in the context of Pakistan's cricketing history, demands not only technical proficiency but also immense mental fortitude.

Despite the challenges, and despite his critics, Younis Khan’s ability to adapt and thrive in the harshest of conditions was unparalleled. In the decade that followed, his ability to score runs against the world’s best bowling attacks, in varying conditions, made him a legend. Some might argue that Younis was not as aesthetically pleasing as some of his contemporaries, but for me, there is little doubt: Younis Khan was Pakistan’s greatest number three batsman. He rose above the collective doubts and defied the odds, earning not only runs but also respect—something more difficult to acquire in the harsh world of international cricket.

In his 17 years at the international level, Younis endured what few could. He faced personal and professional adversity, but in the end, it was his resilience and sheer will that defined his legacy. He emerged from the wilderness time and again, often when few believed in him. And for that, he deserves the admiration he so often eluded in his playing days. As a cricketer, he was a survivor, a fighter—someone who exemplified the grit that Pakistan cricket needed, even when it seemed like he was destined for an early exit.

Misbah-ul-Haq: From Doubt to Legacy

Misbah-ul-Haq's story is one of profound transformation. I remember first encountering him in a tri-nation series in Kenya, where he batted with a quiet, unremarkable style. At that time, Misbah’s technique, though sound, lacked the flair and aggression that had defined Pakistan cricket in the past. When he faced Bangladesh at Multan, I was certain he would be dismissed quickly, as our bowlers were in top form. But as fate would have it, he was selected ahead of Mohammad Yousuf for the inaugural World T20 in 2007, a decision I found inexplicable. Misbah, then, had little to offer the game. His failure to win crucial matches, coupled with his infamous scoop shot in Johannesburg, left him with a reputation that barely survived the passing of time.

The selection of Misbah as captain in the aftermath of the 2010 spot-fixing scandal seemed to many like a symbolic gesture—a last-ditch effort to salvage some semblance of order. I, like many others, thought the worst was yet to come. With Pakistan cricket in disarray, Misbah’s calm, methodical style seemed ill-suited for the chaos around him. But what followed was nothing short of remarkable.

Misbah’s Leadership: A Testament to Stability

Tactically, Misbah was no Imran Khan or Wasim Akram. His methods were not aggressive or revolutionary, nor did he possess the same flair as his predecessors. Yet, what he lacked in boldness, he made up for with a sense of calm that was desperately needed at a time when Pakistan cricket was teetering on the brink. Misbah’s leadership was not built on the daring strokes of brilliance, but on the principle of stability—of keeping things simple, of allowing the game to unfold at its own pace. He was not one to engage in a battle of wits with the opposition captain; instead, he sought to keep his team grounded, ensuring they didn’t stray too far from the path of discipline.

Misbah’s tenure as captain, despite my early reservations, proved to be highly successful. His leadership during Pakistan’s Test victories, especially the series win in the UAE and the revival of Pakistan cricket’s reputation, cemented his place as one of the most successful captains in Pakistan’s history. His ability to instill confidence in a team broken by scandal and disappointment was his true legacy. While I may never have been a fan of Misbah’s batting or captaincy style, I have come to admire the strength it took for him to emerge from the wilderness and lead Pakistan at a time when the team needed a steady hand.

The Journey of Two Unlikely Heroes

Younis Khan and Misbah-ul-Haq’s stories are not those of extravagant heroes or momentary flashes of brilliance. They are the stories of men who, against the odds, carved out legacies that few could have foreseen. Both players spent much of their careers fighting for survival in the volatile world of international cricket. Neither had the explosive talent or the extravagant technique that often defines cricketing immortality, yet both transcended the limitations placed upon them. Younis, with his gritty determination and insatiable hunger for runs; Misbah, with his unshakable resolve and quiet leadership.

In the end, the career of Younis Khan will be remembered for his ability to defy expectations, to rise from the ashes when it seemed his time was up. Misbah-ul-Haq, though never the flamboyant leader, will be remembered for bringing stability to a fractured side, and for leading Pakistan through one of its most turbulent periods.

As these two soldiers bow out of international cricket, they leave behind a legacy that is both complex and enduring. They were not the most glamorous of players, but their contributions to Pakistan cricket are undeniable. Their stories are not of easy victories or simple paths to success, but of perseverance, self-belief, and the relentless pursuit of excellence.

And for that, they will be missed.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar  

The Last Day at Kensington: A Study in Resilience and Cricketing Fate

The Kensington Oval, that hallowed ground in Barbados, has often played host to some of the most dramatic moments in cricket history. For the West Indies, it is not merely a venue, but a living testament to the spirit of their cricketing heritage—a place where myths are born and demons slain. On the final day of the Test match between the West Indies and Pakistan, that myth was reawakened, and once again, it was the West Indies who triumphed.

The Context: Hope Amidst the Storm

In the second innings, Pakistan had set themselves up for a chase of 188. While this target was not particularly imposing, the situation was far from straightforward. Yasir Shah’s leg-spin had already made significant inroads, dismantling the West Indian batting lineup with a mix of guile and precision. Yet, amidst the falling wickets, Shai Hope had stood firm, demonstrating the calm resilience of a batsman well-versed in the subtleties of pressure.

But even with a lead of 188, Pakistan's chances of victory seemed comfortable, almost assured. The pitch, though not ideal for batting, had not yet shown the true demons that would undermine the Pakistan batting lineup. The West Indies, however, had one advantage—history itself.

A Ground of Wonders: Kensington Oval’s Reputation

Kensington Oval is no ordinary cricket ground. It is a venue that has seen the West Indies pull off some of the most improbable wins in the game’s history, especially on the final day of a Test. This belief, held fervently by the West Indian public, is a legend in itself: “The last day at Barbados always belongs to the West Indies.”

For many, this belief is superstitious folklore, born out of nostalgia and the ghosts of past heroes. Yet, on closer inspection, this belief is rooted in cricketing reality. The ground has witnessed numerous dramatic recoveries—none more famous than the 1992 Test between South Africa and West Indies.

A Case Study in Fate: South Africa’s Heartbreak, 1992

In 1992, South Africa, playing their first Test series since their re-admission to international cricket, came to Barbados with their eyes set on victory. On the fourth day, they were in the driver’s seat, needing just 79 runs to win. Kepler Wessels and Peter Kirsten were well set, and it seemed a formality.

Yet, as the sun began to dip on the final day, a familiar aura descended upon the Kensington Oval. Curtly Ambrose and Courtney Walsh, with their relentless pace and perfect line and length, tore through the South African batting, dismissing eight players for a mere 22 runs. The West Indies had pulled off a victory from the jaws of defeat, a dramatic turnaround that sent the home crowd into delirium.

The 1997 Indian Collapse: Another Act of Barbados Magic

Fast forward five years, and India was on the brink of victory in a Test at Kensington Oval, needing 120 runs to win. With the likes of Tendulkar, Dravid, and Ganguly in their lineup, the target should have been a mere formality. Yet, on the final day, the West Indies pacers—Bishop, Rose, and Ambrose—produced a spellbinding display, bundling India out for just 81. It was a collapse so shocking that it remains etched in the minds of Indian fans to this day.

This track, with its sometimes unpredictable bounce and the ever-present atmosphere of tension, had once again turned against a visiting team. The myth of the last day was once again proven true.

The West Indies’ Rebirth: 2017 and Shannon Gabriel’s Moment

Fast forward to 2017, and the West Indies, no longer the cricketing colossus of the 70s and 80s, were still capable of creating magic at home. The West Indies bowling attack lacked the pace and venom of their predecessors—Ambrose, Walsh, Marshall—but they were a talented group. Jason Holder, Alzarri Joseph, and Shannon Gabriel formed the backbone of a determined attack, though the days of batting demoralization on pace-friendly tracks had faded.

Yet, on the final day at Kensington, as Pakistan stood at the precipice of victory, Gabriel produced a spell that would transcend the myth of the last day at Barbados.

The Battle for Pakistan’s Pride

The target of 188 seemed achievable, even if Yasir Shah’s masterful bowling had instilled some doubts. The pitch, while not offering too much assistance, was still good enough to allow for a solid chase. It was not the track, but the mental battle, that would decide the outcome. Pakistan’s batsmen, seemingly buoyed by history and logic, fell prey to the mounting pressure.

The first ball of the final day by Shannon Gabriel set the tone for the morning. The ball pitched on a good length swung inward and took the outside edge of Azhar Ali’s bat. How the ball swerved and kissed the edge—a moment reminiscent of West Indian greats like Malcolm Marshall and Curtly Ambrose—was a clear signal: the West Indies were here to fight.

From that point on, Gabriel hunted the Pakistan batting order with the ruthless efficiency of a predator. Alongside Alzarri Joseph and Holder, Gabriel picked off Pakistan’s middle and lower order with precision. The Pakistanis, reeling from the mounting pressure, were all out for just 81—the same score on which India had been humiliated 20 years prior.

The Psychological Demons: A Cricketing Reversal

The truth of the match, however, was not in the pitch conditions. It was in the heads of the Pakistan batsmen. The belief that they could not succeed on this ground, a belief reinforced by history and the aura of the West Indies’ final-day magic, loomed large.

The demons on the pitch were real, but they were not hidden beneath the surface of the Kensington wicket. The demons were psychological, manifesting in the minds of the Pakistani batsmen, who faltered under pressure. Gabriel’s dominance, like that of Ambrose and Walsh before him, was not just a physical feat—it was a mental triumph.

A Hero Reborn: Gabriel’s Legacy

Shannon Gabriel’s performance was a quiet return to the legacy of the West Indies' fast-bowling prowess, albeit in a more tempered, subdued form. Gabriel’s first spell of the day was not one of raw pace but one of precise, clinical bowling that dismantled Pakistan's resolve.

While the great pacers of the past had stormed through opponents with aggression and flair, Gabriel’s artistry was one of control, patience, and persistence. On that final day, he wasn’t just bowling on a pitch—he was bowling with the weight of West Indies cricketing history behind him.

Conclusion: A Myth Not to Be Undermined

In the end, the West Indies pulled off another iconic victory at Kensington Oval. This time, it was not a contest of bowling firepower but of sheer resilience, a testament to the unpredictable nature of cricket, where history often becomes a guiding force.

For Pakistan, it was a painful reminder of the psychological burden of history. For the West Indies, it was the reaffirmation of a long-held belief: the last day at Barbados always belongs to them.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

The Fall of a Kingdom: How Australia Conquered the Unconquerable West Indies

 

"He who works with his hands is a labourer. 

He who works with his hands and his head is a craftsman. 

He who works with his hands, his head, and his heart is an artist."  

- Francis of Assisi 

In the spring of 1995, the Australian cricket team, led by Mark Taylor, ventured into the Caribbean—a land where cricket was more than a sport. It was identity, pride, and artistry. The tour was for the coveted Frank Worrell Trophy, a prize Australia hadn’t held since 1978. The challenge ahead seemed insurmountable, with even West Indies captain Richie Richardson dismissing the Australians as “the weakest team ever to tour the West Indies.” 

The early signs weren’t promising. The Australians were trounced in the ODI series, and when spearhead Craig McDermott was ruled out of the Test series, the chorus of scepticism reached a crescendo. Yet, cricket has a way of defying logic. 

What unfolded during the Test series was not just a contest of bat and ball but an epic narrative of resilience, artistry, and, ultimately, the fall of a cricketing empire. 

Act I: The Struggle and the Spark

The first Test in Barbados shocked the world. Against expectations, Australia emerged victorious. A washout in Antigua kept the series precariously poised at 1–0. The third Test in Port of Spain saw West Indies strike back, fueled by fiery spells and an infamous confrontation between Steve Waugh and Curtly Ambrose—a moment that became folklore in cricket's annals. 

This set the stage for the fourth and final Test in Kingston, Jamaica, where the series—and perhaps the very spirit of West Indian dominance—would be decided. 

Act II: A Kingdom on the Brink

Kingston’s Sabina Park atmosphere was electric, a carnival of sound and color that only the Caribbean could conjure. The crowd, a potent mix of passion and cricketing acumen, roared as Richardson won the toss and chose to bat. 

The early exchanges suggested business as usual for the West Indies. Stuart Williams fell early, but Richardson and the mercurial Brian Lara, fresh off a string of masterful performances, took the fight to Australia. Their partnership of 103 reignited local hopes. 

Enter Shane Warne. With his conjurer's touch, the blond magician dismissed Lara, and the West Indies innings stumbled to 265. It was respectable, but far from the intimidating scores of old. 

Australia's reply could have been smoother. The pace quartet of Ambrose, Walsh, Winston Benjamin, and Kenny Benjamin tore through the top order, reducing the visitors to a precarious 73 for 3. The crowd sensed blood, the bowlers prowled like panthers, and the series hung by a thread. 

Act III: The Artist at Work

Amid the chaos strode Steve Waugh, cricket’s embodiment of grit. His arrival was greeted by a searing bouncer from Walsh and a barrage of sledges. Unfazed, Waugh's focus was unshakeable. 

The Waugh twins, Steve and Mark, weathered the storm, displaying a masterclass in Test match batting. Mark was the more elegant, his strokes a painter's brush on canvas. Steve, in contrast, was the sculptor, chiselling runs out of rock-hard resistance. 

As the day wore on, the Australians silenced the once-raucous crowd. Steve’s ability to endure physical blows and verbal barbs alike became a testament to his mental fortitude. By day’s end, both brothers had crossed centuries, fulfilling a childhood dream while seizing control of the game. 

Act IV: The Fall of the Mighty

On May Day, Steve Waugh reached a landmark—his first double hundred in Test cricket. His 200 was not just a personal triumph; it was the hammer that shattered the Caribbean aura of invincibility. 

Justin Langer later remarked on the innings: “Steve showed he was prepared to put it all on the line, in the toughest conditions ... against probably the best fast bowler of our time. It gave us a huge boost.” 

Australia took a commanding lead, and after a rest day, their bowlers dismantled the West Indies with ruthless efficiency. The victory sealed the series 2–1, ending the West Indies’ 15-year unbeaten streak in Test cricket. 

Epilogue: The End of an Era 

Sabina Park, once a fortress, became the stage for the fall of a cricketing dynasty. The West Indies, who had dominated world cricket with swagger and artistry, were humbled by a team that brought discipline, determination, and their own form of artistry.  

Australia’s triumph under Taylor was not just a series win; it was a shift in the cricketing cosmos. The baton of dominance had been passed, and Steve Waugh’s indomitable double century stood as the defining image of the moment when the mighty kingdom fell. 

In cricket, as in life, the true artist works with hands, head, and heart. On the sun-drenched pitch of Sabina Park, Steve Waugh proved himself an artist of the highest order.

 

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

The Glove, the Squash Ball, and the Twilight: The 2007 World Cup Final

The final of the ICC World Cup 2007 in the West Indies unfolded as a curious blend of brilliance and farce, an event immortalized not just for Adam Gilchrist's breathtaking innings, but also for the bizarre conclusion that encapsulated the tournament’s organizational missteps. Australia emerged as the victors, sealing their fourth World Cup title and their third consecutive triumph since 1999. Yet, the chaotic denouement cast a long shadow over what should have been a celebration of cricketing excellence.

Gilchrist’s Masterclass: The Squash Ball Revelation

In cricketing lore, Adam Gilchrist’s 149 off 104 balls stands as a towering testament to audacity and genius. Armed with an unconventional ally—a squash ball tucked inside his glove—Gilchrist delivered a knock of such ferocity and precision that it redefined the art of batting on the grandest stage. This was not just a performance; it was a statement, an unrelenting assault on Sri Lanka’s bowling attack that left no room for doubt about Australia’s supremacy.

Gilchrist’s innings eclipsed Ricky Ponting’s 140 in the 2003 final to become the highest score in a World Cup decider. His dominance began early, as he dismantled Chaminda Vaas with a combination of power and timing. Even Lasith Malinga, the tournament’s most feared bowler, was reduced to a supporting act, his pace blunted and his menace neutralized. The turning point came when Dilhara Fernando dropped a sharp return catch with Gilchrist on 31—a lapse that proved fatal. From that moment, Gilchrist unleashed a barrage of strokes, reaching his century in just 72 balls and ensuring Australia’s commanding total of 281 in the rain-shortened 38-over contest.

The Supporting Cast: Hayden’s Restraint and McGrath’s Farewell

While Gilchrist stole the spotlight, Matthew Hayden played a crucial supporting role with a subdued 38 off 55 balls. Hayden, who had amassed 659 runs in the tournament, the second-highest tally in World Cup history, willingly ceded the stage to his partner. His selflessness underscored Australia’s collective ethos—a team that thrived on individual brilliance seamlessly integrated into a greater whole.

On the bowling front, Glenn McGrath, in his final international appearance, etched his name into history. His tally of 26 wickets in the tournament set a new record, as did his overall World Cup haul of 71 wickets. McGrath’s farewell was fittingly marked by a wicket off his penultimate delivery—a leg-side full toss that Russel Arnold gloved to Gilchrist, symbolizing the seamless synergy between Australia’s stars.

Sri Lanka’s Romantic Resilience

Sri Lanka, appearing in their second final in four tournaments, brought their characteristic flair and resilience to the contest. Kumar Sangakkara and Sanath Jayasuriya briefly revived hopes with a 116-run partnership, but their dismissals signalled the end of a spirited chase. Jayasuriya, playing in his final World Cup, fell to Michael Clarke’s part-time spin, while Sangakkara miscued a pull to midwicket. Despite their efforts, Sri Lanka’s pursuit was hampered by a spiralling run rate and the fading light, a metaphor for their dimming chances.

The Farce in the Twilight

As the match approached its conclusion, the game descended into farce. With Sri Lanka requiring 63 runs from 18 balls, bad light was offered and seemingly accepted, prompting Australian celebrations. Yet, in a baffling twist, play resumed under near-darkness, with players navigating the gloom and the spectators left squinting at shadows. The absurdity of the situation mirrored the broader organizational failings of a tournament plagued by logistical mishaps and miscommunication.

A Legacy of Dominance and Dissonance

Australia’s victory was the culmination of a campaign defined by unrelenting dominance. Their unbeaten run in World Cup matches, stretching back to 1999, cemented their status as one of the greatest teams in cricket history. Yet, the chaotic conclusion of the final served as a stark reminder of the fragility of sporting spectacle when undermined by administrative ineptitude.

In the end, the 2007 World Cup final will be remembered for both its brilliance and its blemishes. Gilchrist’s knock remains a beacon of individual excellence, a performance that transcended the moment and etched itself into the annals of cricketing history. But the farcical finish serves as a cautionary tale—a reminder that even the greatest achievements can be overshadowed by the missteps of those entrusted with safeguarding the spirit of the game.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

A Triumph on the Sandpit: Bangladesh Stuns South Africa in Providence

On a sluggish surface in Guyana, one that mirrored the subcontinental sandpits of old, Bangladesh delivered a masterclass in discipline and audacity to dismantle South Africa by 67 runs in a match that will be etched in cricketing folklore. At the heart of this seismic upset was a beguiling 87 from Mohammad Ashraful, whose blend of artistry and grit laid the foundation for a total of 251—a score that proved insurmountable on a deteriorating pitch.

The script was one of contrasts. South Africa, ranked among the tournament favourites, unravelled in a manner that belied their pedigree. Their bowlers, save for the indefatigable Andre Nel, who claimed a maiden five-wicket haul, lacked the precision required on a surface that demanded guile over brute force. Their batsmen, usually adept at adapting to diverse conditions, floundered under the weight of mounting pressure and probing spin.

Ashraful's Symphony Amid Chaos

Inserted under overcast skies, Bangladesh's innings teetered precariously at 84 for 4, with Nel's relentless aggression threatening to scythe through the middle order. Enter Ashraful, a mercurial talent often burdened by inconsistency, who played an innings of remarkable maturity. Initially cautious, he anchored the innings with deft singles and twos, stitching together a vital 76-run partnership with the equally enterprising Aftab Ahmed.

As the innings progressed, Ashraful's restraint gave way to audacity. His paddle-scoops and rasping drives were punctuated by moments of sheer ingenuity, none more so than a lofted drive over Makhaya Ntini's head to bring up his half-century. His calculated acceleration in the death overs, complemented by Mashrafe Mortaza's late blitz, propelled Bangladesh to a total that, while seemingly modest, was imbued with potential menace on a wearing pitch.

The Art of Spin: Bangladesh's Defensive Masterpiece

If Ashraful's innings was the overture, the spin trio of Abdur Razzak, Mohammad Rafique, and Saqibul Hasan delivered the crescendo. Syed Rasel set the tone with two early strikes, his metronomic accuracy unsettling Graeme Smith and Jacques Kallis. Smith, attempting to force the issue, fell to a straight delivery, while Kallis, uncharacteristically frenetic, succumbed to an ill-judged lofted shot.

With the openers dispatched, the spinners tightened their stranglehold. Razzak, bowling with venomous precision, bamboozled AB de Villiers with a delivery that spun just enough to evade his defences. Rafique, the elder statesman of the attack, operated with surgical precision, exploiting the sluggish surface to extract both turn and bounce. Saqibul, brimming with youthful exuberance, deceived Mark Boucher with flight before accounting for Justin Kemp with a sharp return catch.

South Africa's famed batting order, so often a fortress, crumbled under the relentless pressure. Herschelle Gibbs, battling a calf strain and a mounting run rate, waged a lone war. His innings, though valiant, was curiously subdued, marked by an absence of the explosiveness that has defined his career. Tamim Iqbal's sharp direct hit ended Shaun Pollock's resistance, and the tail folded meekly under the weight of Rafique's guile and Razzak's persistence.

A Defining Moment in Bangladesh's Cricketing Odyssey

This victory was more than just a win; it was a statement. Bangladesh, so often the underdog, showcased a level of maturity and tactical acumen that belied their inexperience. Their fielding was electric, their bowling incisive, and their batting resourceful.

For South Africa, this loss was a sobering reminder of cricket's unpredictability. Their inability to adapt to conditions and their overreliance on aggression proved costly. As the Super Eights opened up, the defeat underscored the importance of flexibility and resilience in the face of adversity.

For Bangladesh, however, this was a watershed moment—a performance that not only toppled a cricketing giant but also signalled their arrival as a force to be reckoned with on the world stage. On a day when the underdog roared, the cricketing world was reminded of the beauty of the game: its capacity to surprise, to inspire, and to redefine the limits of possibility.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar