Pakistan Prevails in a Last-Ball Thriller: A One-Run Victory for the Ages

Cricket, in its purest form, is a game of nerve, skill, and moments that define careers. On this fateful day, Pakistan and West Indies delivered a contest for the ages—a battle that ebbed and flowed, culminating in a final-over drama that will be etched in the annals of the sport. With just one run separating victory and defeat, it was a game where fortunes swung wildly, heroes emerged under pressure, and the final delivery decided the fate of two proud cricketing nations. 

Pakistan’s Steady Start and Imran’s Influence

Winning the toss, Pakistan opted to bat, relying on their experienced top order to build a formidable total. The innings found its anchor in skipper Imran Khan, whose leadership was as influential with the bat as it was in his tactical acumen. He stitched together a vital 137-run stand with Ramiz Raja, their measured approach balancing caution with aggression. While Imran dictated the tempo with controlled strokeplay, Ramiz provided stability, ensuring Pakistan laid a strong foundation. 

However, the West Indies bowlers, led by their relentless pace attack, struck at crucial intervals, preventing Pakistan from running away with the game. The total, though competitive, did not seem insurmountable—until the drama of the second innings unfolded. 

Richardson’s Heroics and West Indies’ Grit

The chase began in disaster for West Indies. Reduced to 57 for 5, their hopes seemed all but extinguished. But cometh the hour, cometh the man—captain Richie Richardson rose to the occasion, crafting one of the most spirited knocks of the tournament. His sublime 122 off 121 balls was a masterclass in resilience, a captain’s innings that turned despair into belief. 

In Jeff Dujon, Richardson found a worthy ally, and together they stitched a remarkable 154-run partnership. As the overs ticked down, West Indies clawed their way back, inching closer to what had once seemed an improbable victory. 

A Heart-Stopping Finale

With just 10 runs required off the final over, all eyes turned to Waqar Younis, entrusted with the task of defending Pakistan’s slender total. The equation quickly narrowed as Ian Bishop smashed a towering six over long-on, tilting the scales in West Indies’ favour. With three balls remaining, the equation read two runs to win. Silence gripped the stadium as tension crackled in the air. 

Waqar, undeterred by the pressure, produced two dot balls, setting up an all-or-nothing final delivery. The moment arrived. The run-up, the release, the ball crashing into the stumps—Bishop was clean bowled. Pakistan erupted in celebration; West Indies stood in stunned disbelief. The match was won by a solitary run, a margin so razor-thin that it perfectly encapsulated the drama of the sport. 

A Game for the Ages

This match was more than just a contest—it was a spectacle of perseverance, resilience, and the unrelenting spirit of cricket. Pakistan’s victory was a testament to their composure under pressure, while West Indies’ fightback showcased the heart of true champions. In the end, there could only be one winner, but both teams left an indelible mark on the history of the game. 

Such moments remind us why cricket is more than just a sport—it is a theatre of dreams, where every run, every ball, and every decision can alter destiny.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

A Gamble Gone Wrong: How Sri Lanka Outplayed West Indies in the 1995 Singer Champions Trophy Final

Cricket has a peculiar way of rewarding the bold and punishing the overconfident. On a scorching Friday afternoon at the Sharjah Cricket Association Stadium, Richie Richardson made a decision that would haunt the West Indies for the rest of the day. Winning the toss in the 1995 Singer Champions Trophy Final, he opted to field first—a calculated risk, but one that would prove disastrous against a Sri Lankan side that was gaining momentum on the international stage. What followed was a masterclass in batting, a dramatic collapse, and an eventual triumph that solidified Sri Lanka’s growing reputation in world cricket. 

Sri Lanka’s Commanding Start: Setting the Foundation

The Sri Lankan innings began with precision and patience as Sanath Jayasuriya  and  Roshan Mahanama  set a steady foundation. The West Indian bowlers struggled for an early breakthrough, watching helplessly as the openers manoeuvred the ball around Sharjah’s dry surface. Their partnership flourished past the century mark, and just as the West Indies looked increasingly desperate, they finally struck. 

At the ominous score of 111, Jayasuriya fell for 57 off 82 balls, courtesy of a sharp catch by Ottis Gibson off  Anderson Cummins. Yet, the dismissal did little to derail Sri Lanka’s intent. Mahanama, in sublime touch, went on to make 66, while the ever-dangerous Aravinda de Silva  played an explosive cameo, smashing a rapid 50 off just 35 balls. Their controlled aggression ensured Sri Lanka maintained a run rate of around 5.5 per over, keeping them firmly ahead in the contest. 

At 196 for three, Sri Lanka seemed poised for a massive total. However, cricket often twists narratives in unexpected ways, and the West Indies found their window of opportunity. 

The West Indian Fightback: Gibson’s Fiery Spell

Just when Sri Lanka looked set to accelerate, Ottis Gibson changed the complexion of the game. His pace and movement rattled the Sri Lankan middle order, sparking a collapse that saw Arjuna Ranatunga, Hashan Tillakaratne, Asanka Gurusinha, and Chandika Hathurusingha fall in quick succession. From a dominant 215 for four, Sri Lanka stumbled to 269 for eight, losing wickets at crucial moments. 

As the innings neared its end, an unusual interruption added to the drama. With Sri Lanka at 262 for seven, match referee Raman Subba Rao  surprisingly called for a lunch break with seven balls still remaining. The pause momentarily halted Sri Lanka’s momentum, but when play resumed, Gibson struck twice more, while Eric Upashantha  was run out. The innings concluded at 273, a challenging but chaseable target given West Indies’ batting firepower. 

West Indies Falter in the Chase: A Story of Missteps

What should have been a determined chase quickly turned into a nightmare. Eric Upashantha, playing only his second ODI, struck early, dismissing Stuart Williams and Brian Lara in quick succession. Losing Lara, their talisman, was a body blow from which the West Indies never truly recovered. 

Sherwin Campbell and Richie Richardson  attempted to stabilize the innings, but their partnership ended in disaster when a mix-up resulted in Richardson’s unfortunate run-out. As if the pressure wasn’t enough, Muttiah Muralitharan then delivered a moment of magic, clean bowling Campbell with a delivery that left the batsman clueless. At 88 for five, the West Indies were in dire straits. 

There was a flicker of resistance as Shivnarine Chanderpaul and Roger Harper put together 53 runs for the sixth wicket, rotating strike smartly and delaying the inevitable. But Sri Lanka had all the answers. Kumar Dharmasena  ended their fightback, dismissing Chanderpaul, while Muralitharan continued his dominance, catching Harper off his own bowling. 

At 156 for seven, the writing was on the wall. The lower order crumbled, and at  177 for nine, Sri Lanka was just one wicket away from victory. Yet, the final wicket would not fall easily. 

Gibson’s Late Resistance: A Last Stand in Vain

Despite the bleak situation, Ottis Gibson refused to go down without a fight. Complementing his stellar bowling performance, he launched a late counterattack alongside Hamish Anthony, adding a defiant **43-run stand off just 32 balls. Gibson’s 33 runs, featuring a six and three boundaries, injected momentary excitement into an otherwise one-sided chase. But the resistance was short-lived—Dharmasena struck again, dismissing Anthony to bring an end to the innings at 223. 

With that, Sri Lanka had clinched the title by 50 runs, a victory that was both convincing and symbolic of their rising status in world cricket. 

Conclusion: A Defining Moment in Sri Lankan Cricket

The 1995 Singer Champions Trophy final was a tale of two halves—Sri Lanka’s dominance in the first, and the West Indies’ fleeting comeback in the second. Richardson’s gamble at the toss proved costly, and while there were glimpses of brilliance from Gibson, Chanderpaul, and Harper, the West Indies never truly recovered from their top-order failures. 

For Sri Lanka, this victory was more than just a trophy—it was a statement of intent. A team once considered underdogs had now outplayed one of cricket’s most storied teams on a grand stage. It was a precursor to even greater triumphs, paving the way for their historic 1996 World Cup win. 

For the West Indies, the loss served as a reminder that their golden era was fading. The Caribbean dominance of the 1970s and 1980s had begun to erode, and this defeat at Sharjah was another indication that a changing of the guard was imminent in world cricket.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Wasim Akram’s Monumental 257: A Record-Breaking Masterclass in Adversity

Test cricket welcomed its 77th venue, and Pakistan its 16th, with a stadium so newly reconstructed that it had yet to host a first-class match. It was on this fresh, untested stage that Wasim Akram crafted an innings of staggering brilliance, an exhibition of power and resilience that etched his name into the annals of cricketing history. His unbeaten 257, a marathon spanning eight hours and ten minutes across 363 deliveries, remains the highest score by a No. 8 batsman in Test cricket. A feat of audacity and discipline, his innings included 12 sixes—eclipsing Wally Hammond’s long-standing record of ten set in 1932-33—and 22 boundaries, each stroke a statement of intent.

Perhaps even more remarkable was the partnership that Wasim forged with Saqlain Mushtaq. Their unbroken stand of 313 runs, spanning 110 overs, rewrote history by surpassing the previous eighth-wicket record of 246 set by England’s Les Ames and Gubby Allen in 1931. It was a partnership born from adversity. At 237 for seven, Pakistan trailed Zimbabwe by 138, the prospect of a substantial first-innings deficit looming ominously. Yet, in a transformation both improbable and emphatic, Wasim and Saqlain turned despair into dominance, delivering Pakistan an eventual lead of 178.

Challenges and Conditions

Victory, however, remained elusive. Bad light curtailed play on the fourth evening, and rain delayed the proceedings on the final morning. Yet, it was the pitch—described by Dave Houghton as the slowest he had ever encountered—that proved Pakistan’s greatest obstacle. Offering neither bounce nor lateral movement, the surface neutralized the traditional weapons of Wasim and Waqar Younis, their attempts at reverse swing thwarted by the locally manufactured Grays balls, which they openly criticized.

Debutant Shahid Nazir, however, found early swing and capitalized on the conditions, his five-wicket haul reducing Zimbabwe to a precarious 142 for six. The revival came through Grant Flower and Paul Strang, whose stand of 131 showcased technical finesse and defiance. Flower’s century, crafted with his characteristic off-drives, was a masterclass in composure. Strang, driving with equal assurance, seemed destined for his maiden Test hundred before his brother Bryan joined him, their 87-run partnership delaying Pakistan’s charge. Strang ultimately reached 106 not out, a gritty innings spanning five hours, though not without fortune—he was dropped thrice.

Wasim’s Brilliance with the Willow

Pakistan’s innings was marred by a series of injudicious strokes from the top order, leaving them teetering at 183 for six. It was at this juncture that Wasim Akram, appalled by his teammates' recklessness, assumed a mantle of responsibility. He first stitched together a 54-run stand with Moin Khan before Paul Strang—by now the 18th cricketer to score a hundred and claim a five-wicket haul in the same Test—dismissed Moin.

What followed was a revelation. Wasim, often lauded for his artistry with the ball rather than the bat, demonstrated an application few had credited him with. Offering only one chance—when on 145—he meticulously constructed his innings, negotiating the spin of Strang and Andrew Whittall from the crease. He was ruthless against overpitched deliveries, driving them with commanding authority. His sixes, most of which soared over the straight boundaries, were a testament to his effortless power.

Saqlain, for his part, displayed remarkable fortitude, weathering the storm for seven hours to contribute a crucial 79. His ability to endure allowed Wasim the freedom to play his natural game, the duo’s contrasting styles melding into an alliance of attrition and aggression.

The Final Day and Zimbabwe’s Resilience

By the final day, Zimbabwe’s path to survival had been eased by an unfortunate collision between Wasim and a boundary board, rendering him unable to bowl more than five overs. With the slow surface negating substantial turn, Saqlain toiled through 40 overs, but his lines were often too wide to trouble the batsmen. The absence of the injured Mushtaq Ahmed was deeply felt. Once again, Grant Flower and Dave Houghton emerged as Zimbabwe’s saviours, with Andy Flower consuming three hours for a painstaking 18, each minute another brick in the wall of defiance.

Conclusion

In the end, the contest was a paradox—a match where individual brilliance reshaped history, yet the limitations of the conditions and circumstances conspired against a decisive outcome. Wasim Akram’s innings was a reminder of his multifaceted genius, a blend of flair and discipline rarely witnessed. While the match concluded without a winner, it left behind a narrative rich in drama, records, and the enduring spirit of Test cricket.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Test Twenty: The Gimmick That Could Finish What T20 Started

Cricket has always evolved — sometimes gracefully, sometimes by force. But the unveiling of Test Twenty on October 16, conceived by sports entrepreneur Gaurav Bahirvani of The One One Six Network, feels less like evolution and more like erosion. Sold as a revolutionary “fourth format,” this new hybrid — part Test, part T20 — could end up stripping cricket of the very thing that made it beautiful: its patience, its poetry, its purpose.

A Test in Name Only

On paper, Test Twenty sounds clever: 80 overs in total, two innings of 20 overs per side, all wrapped up neatly in a single day. It promises the strategic nuance of Tests and the entertainment punch of T20s. The results — win, loss, draw, or tie — mimic tradition, while the structure is designed for the modern attention span.

But let’s be honest: this isn’t a reinvention of Test cricket. It’s a repackaged short-form product dressed up in nostalgia. What makes a Test isn’t just two innings and whites — it’s the slow burn, the psychological tug-of-war, the narrative that stretches and morphs over five days. Compressing that into a few hours doesn’t preserve the format’s soul; it suffocates it.

The Fast-Fooding of a Fine Meal

We’ve been down this road before. T20 was meant to be a supplement, not a substitute. It was the dessert that ended up replacing the meal. The explosion of franchise cricket — from the IPL to The Hundred — has already tilted the balance irreversibly toward entertainment over endurance. Players now retire from Tests at 30 to chase league contracts; boards prioritize broadcast windows over bilateral series.

Now, Test Twenty threatens to finish what T20 started — to turn even the last bastion of cricket’s authenticity into another bite-sized commodity. The message is clear: if something doesn’t fit the digital clock, it doesn’t deserve to exist.

The Allure of Technology, The Absence of Soul

The format’s biggest boast is its AI Discovery Engine, a data-driven system using motion sensors and video analysis to scout talent “impartially.” It’s a fascinating tool — but it misunderstands what cricket’s romance is built on. Algorithms can identify technique; they can’t identify temperament. Data can measure bat speed; it can’t capture the quiet defiance of a batter surviving the last hour in fading light.

Cricket’s legacy is human. It thrives in imperfection — in the missed edge, the fading pitch, the weary spell on the fifth morning. To replace that with AI-driven metrics is to miss the point entirely.

Innovation or Invasion?

The first Test Twenty season, set for January 2026, will feature six global franchises — three from Indian cities, and three from Dubai, London, and the United States. Predictably, the emphasis is on global reach and television appeal. Once again, the game’s guardians are confusing growth with glamour.

Cricket doesn’t need another format; it needs conviction. Test cricket doesn’t need a facelift; it needs faith. The answer to declining Test interest isn’t to dilute it — it’s to defend it, to invest in it, to tell its stories better.

What’s Left When Everything’s Shortened?

Test Twenty might market itself as innovation, but it risks being an obituary. Test cricket isn’t just a format — it’s the conscience of the sport. It’s where cricket’s mythology lives, where legends are forged not by sixes but by survival.

We’ve already lost enough of the game’s soul to the ticking clock of commercial convenience. The question now is simple: when every version of cricket is fast, who will still have the patience to watch the game unfold slowly — beautifully — as it once did?

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Brian Lara’s Masterclass in Sharjah, 1995: A Timeless ODI Epic

Brian Lara’s genius with the bat was already an established fact well before the triangular series in Sharjah in October 1995. His appetite for massive scores had seen him script unforgettable innings in Test cricket, including a breathtaking 277 against Australia, the world-record 375 against England, and a commanding 145 versus New Zealand. Even in the limited-overs format, Lara had demonstrated his ability to dominate, with his highest ODI score of 153 coming at the same venue against Pakistan. However, the innings he produced against Sri Lanka in Sharjah during this series would go on to be remembered as one of the finest ever in One-Day International (ODI) history.

A Must-Win Scenario for West Indies

The West Indies entered this contest in a precarious position. With two narrow defeats in their opening round fixtures—one against Pakistan and the other against Sri Lanka—the Caribbean side found itself languishing at the bottom of the table. The only path to survival in the tournament required them to win both remaining matches. Lara had already played a crucial role in keeping their campaign alive, having scored a crucial half-century against Pakistan to keep their hopes intact. However, their next match, against an unpredictable Sri Lankan side, demanded yet another special performance from the left-handed maestro. What followed was an innings of unparalleled dominance.

Winning the Toss: A Change in Strategy

West Indies skipper Richie Richardson had been criticized for his preference to bowl first in previous matches, a strategy that had backfired. Learning from past mistakes, he opted to bat first on what Wisden later described as one of the flattest tracks in Asia. However, the start wasn’t promising. In just the second over, opener Stuart Williams fell to Pramodaya Wickramasinghe, leaving West Indies at 2/1. With the team under early pressure, Lara walked to the crease, setting the stage for a masterclass that would leave the Sri Lankans shell-shocked.

Early Onslaught: Lara Dictates Terms

Though Lara lacked the raw swagger of his predecessor Viv Richards, his stroke-making on that day was no less destructive. Wearing only a maroon cap, he unleashed a relentless assault on the bowlers. The Sri Lankan pacers were dispatched to all parts of the ground, forcing Ranatunga to introduce spin early in an attempt to stifle the scoring. If the change was meant to slow Lara down, it had the opposite effect. Spinners, instead of controlling the game, found themselves under siege as Lara’s footwork and shot selection dismantled their rhythm.

The Supporting Role: Richardson Holds Steady

At the other end, Richardson provided stability, playing a second-fiddle role while Lara dominated proceedings. By the time he reached his half-century off as many balls, West Indies had surged to 97 for two in just 18 overs, setting the tone for a commanding total.

Spinners Under Siege

Desperate for a breakthrough, Sri Lanka turned to their premier bowlers. Aravinda de Silva and Muttiah Muralitharan were introduced, hoping to curb the scoring rate, but Lara was in sublime form. Muralitharan was treated with caution initially, yet even he couldn’t escape Lara’s onslaught, as a towering six over midwicket testified. Meanwhile, de Silva was subjected to an onslaught, with almost every over-yielding boundary. Even the wily Sanath Jayasuriya was given a brief spell, but nothing could derail Lara’s momentum.

The Century and Beyond: A Ruthless Assault

Lara’s century arrived with a signature punch past mid-wicket, a knock constructed with remarkable fluency and aggression. His celebration was subdued, a clear indication that he was far from done. Moments later, Ranatunga spilt a sharp chance at cover, allowing Lara to continue his carnage.

With newfound freedom, Lara dismantled the Sri Lankan bowling attack even further. Jayasuriya’s four overs yielded 30 runs, while de Silva’s figures read a dismal 51 runs conceded in six overs. When Lara reached 150, the anticipation in the stadium and the press box grew—could he become the first man to score a double-century in ODIs.

The Moment of Dismissal: A Brilliant Knock Ends

Just as he seemed destined for history, fate intervened. On 169, in an attempt to sweep Dharmasena, Lara misjudged the delivery, and the ball snuck between his bat and pad to disturb the stumps. A stunned silence briefly enveloped the stadium before applause erupted, acknowledging a knock that would stand as a defining moment in ODI history.

Legacy of the Knock

Lara’s innings comprised 15 fours and four sixes, lifting the West Indies to a formidable total of 282 for six with five overs still remaining. As Wisden noted, “he fell 21 short of beating Viv Richards’s one-day international best of 189 and adding that record to the Test and First-Class ones he gained in 1994.”

Yet, statistics alone fail to capture the sheer brilliance of this knock. It wasn’t merely about the number of runs but how they were accumulated—graceful yet brutal, elegant yet ruthless. This was Lara at his peak, a master of his craft dismantling an opposition with audacity and authority.

Conclusion: An Innings for the Ages

Lara’s 169 in Sharjah remains one of the greatest ODI innings of all time. In an era where batting wasn’t as power-dominated as today, his ability to single-handedly dictate the flow of the game was a testament to his genius. Though his career would go on to span 299 ODIs, never again would he produce a knock of such unrelenting brilliance. It was a reminder that when Brian Lara was at his best, no bowler, no field setting, and no opposition could stand in his way. His innings was more than a statistical marvel—it was an enduring statement of mastery, a spectacle of cricketing artistry, and a performance that remains etched in the golden archives of the sport.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar