The Pakistan-sized mess
The Hindu · R Kaushik · 2026-09-04T02:08:22+00:00 · nguồn gốc
Intrigue has been a constant subtext to cricket in the subcontinent in general, and Pakistan in particular. Once volatile and unpredictable, Pakistani cricket has, in recent times, been predictably messy and controversial, the latest events in England doing little to edify its image even as it struggles to come to terms with the reality that the glory days of the past on the field are a distant memory.
The unprecedented move to banish seven players, among them two former captains, as well as the head coach and the bowling coach midway through a series has to rank among the most bizarre and knee-jerk reactions. For effect, it is perhaps overshadowed by the Pakistan Cricket Board threat to pull out of the Lord’s Test of last week because the host broadcaster aired an interview with the sons of inarguably the greatest cricketer to come out of the country, Imran Khan.
Imran is a charismatic, talismanic personality who did more to raise the stock of the nation itself than anyone else. Having cut his teeth as a raw, unpolished, fiery pacer in Sussex where he was one half of a feared new-ball combine alongside South African Garth le Roux, he blossomed into a fabulous all-rounder who formed a famed quartet — alongside Ian Botham, Kapil Dev and Richard Hadlee — for much of the 1980s. With the passage of time and the inevitable onset of injuries, he dropped pace but didn’t lose much by way of impact, while upping his game a notch or three as a batter as compensation.
But more than as a player, Imran’s legacy was cemented through his leadership abilities. His arresting presence was unmistakable on the field of play, and even when he was involved in a captaincy musical chair battle of other people’s making with Javed Miandad, he was unmissable. While others congregated around the bowler to congratulate him on taking a wicket, Imran would walk regally, at his own pace, from mid-on or mid-off; as he neared the protagonist, the rest would respectfully make way for him to pat the gushing hero on the back. Imran wasn’t given to grand gestures, but his wards knew that a word of praise from the skipper was worth all the riches in the world.
His crowning glory was leading Pakistan, against all odds and from the brink of elimination, to the 1992 World Cup title. The conquest of England at a raucous MCG was the ultimate vindication of his inspirational qualities and the great gift of getting his colleagues to perform above themselves, to understand and believe that nothing was beyond them. He didn’t entirely endear himself to thousands of his countrymen — among them some of his own teammates — and women by focussing more on the cancer hospital he was to open in Lahore in his late mother’s name instead of eulogising the historic triumph at the post-match festivities, but even his critics acknowledged that his heart was in the right place.
Imran’s plunge into politics was going to be interesting, to say the least. Historically, elected Pakistani governments have operated under the iron fist of the army but Imran was his own man, so it was inevitable that there would be tension – and that’s putting it mildly. His imprisonment, his deteriorating health and concerns over his well being drove Greg Chappell, the former Australian captain and one of Imran’s contemporaries, to spark an initiative that involved several internationals, many of them skippers of their respective national sides including our very own Sunil Gavaskar, to make an impassioned official plea to the Pakistani dispensation to ensure that Imran is treated with the respect he deserves and is looked after from a medical perspective.
It’s against this backdrop that the host broadcaster of the England-Pakistan Test series aired an interview, conducted by former England captain Mike Atherton at the Long Room, with Imran’s sons Sulaiman and Kasim Khan during the Lord’s Test. The Pakistan Cricket Board contemplated a boycott of the match midway before saner counsel prevailed, but that seemed to have deserted them at the conclusion of a second heavy defeat in two matches, at the end of which came the dramatic decision to recall half the team as well as Sarfaraz Ahmed, the head coach, and Umar Gul, the fast-bowling coach.
Among the players bundled on to the plane back home were former captains Salman Ali Agha and Mohammad Rizwan. Indeed, Salman had led Pakistan in the first Test in Leeds in the absence of Babar Azam, out injured; England won by an innings and 103 runs at Headingley, and once Babar was declared fit for the Lord’s showdown, Salman was dumped from the playing XI for the second Test. Like Salman, Rizwan has captained the national team previously but paid the price for a middling run of scores. Also asked to fly back home was Imam-ul-Haq, the bespectacled opening batter and the nephew of revered and adored former captain Inzamam. Imam did not bat in either innings at Lord’s with a low-grade calf strain which itself is now being probed, all of which has contributed to a horrible mid-series fiasco that incoming head coach Mike Hesson and Ashley Noffke, Gul’s replacement, have been burdened with.
Pakistan have roped in, and parted ways with, numerous leading luminaries as head coach, including Mickey Arthur, former Australia paceman Jason Gillespie and Gary Kirsten, the ex-opener from South Africa who coached India to the 50-over World Cup crown in 2011 and is now the head coach of the Sri Lankan national team. Kiwi Hesson is the latest in a long line of big-ticket names to embrace one of the most demanding tasks in world cricket, and not necessarily because of the pressure of expectations alone. Being the coach of the Pakistan team is not a double-edged sword; however, the sword constantly hovers overhead, despite the fact that almost all coaches have been compelled to function with one hand tied behind their back.
Pakistan’s recent cricketing journey has been anything but successful. Apart from making it to the final of the T20 World Cup in Melbourne in 2022 when they were bested by England, they haven’t quite matched history and expectations with performances. Their Test displays have been even more disappointing – they haven’t so much as threatened to make it to the final of the World Test Championship over the first three cycles and are currently at the bottom of the nine-team standings of this latest campaign, with just 16 points from eight matches. To say that their chances of finishing in the top-two this time too are more miniscule than finding snow in the desert will be a massive understatement.
It’s against this backdrop that Hesson, and Babar must embark on a journey of redemption and salvation. Neither will be unaware that for reasons beyond their control, the national team has become a laughing stock. Defeats by an innings, and by 194 runs, in seamer-friendly conditions where neither the batters nor the bowlers, with the honourable exception of Mohammad Abbas — who took nine wickets in the Lord’s hammering — have covered themselves with glory, are impossible to bounce back from in a short series. While the rest of the cricketing world is bemoaning the increasing takeover of two-Test faceoffs, Pakistan would have loved for a third Test to not be there, given the unenviable position in which they find themselves.
Babar himself has been at the receiving end of selectorial vicissitudes more than once and must now find a way to rally his embattled, beleaguered troops who will look over their shoulder with a greater sense of insecurity than ever before. To lose so many key personnel in one swoop and still be expected to mount a face-saving fightback is a humongously tall task but between them, the leadership group of Babar, the best batter in the side, and Hesson have no other option. In less than a week’s time, Joe Root’s England, who themselves have little chance of making it to the WTC final, will be licking their lips in anticipation of a 3-0 sweep.
There was a time when England dreaded the prospect of running into Pakistan, even at home, with the imperious Wasim Akram and the toe-crushing Waqar Younis primed to wreak untold damage. So mesmerised were they with the late reverse swing the two magicians procured in 1992 that they threw unsubstantiated allegations of ball-tampering until Geoff Boycott, the straight-talking Yorkshireman, mocked those charges by saying that the duo was so skilled that it could ‘bowl England out with an orange’. It’s impossible, of course, to find replacements for these legends but for a brief while, Pakistan seemed to have found a few reasonably worthy successors in Shaheen Afridi, Naseem Shah and Haris Rauf, among others. But for various reasons, no one has really taken things by the scruff of the neck and established themselves as a long-haul strike force. That, coupled with declining batting standards in all formats, have emphatically pegged Pakistan cricket back.
There is no quick fix or early solution in sight. For Pakistan to take even baby steps towards becoming a consistently competitive outfit, the first non-negotiable ingredients are faith and patience. Constant chopping and changing, of selection panels, of captains and players, and of the coaching staff, has been nothing if not counter-productive. While it will be impossible for them to replicate the Indian model, for obvious reasons, maybe they can have a look across the border to figure out what systems the Board of Control for Cricket in India has in place and how it has worked to the benefit of cricket in India. There needs to be a systemic revamp in Pakistan, at the foremost of which is a shift in thinking, in attitude and mindset. To continue to keep making the same mistakes and then hope for a different outcome is both naïve and foolhardy. The post-Lord’s developments haven’t done anyone any credit, and certainly not with the final act of the series due to play itself out in Birmingham from next Wednesday. Pakistan must realise that unless they set their house in order, the road to redemption will be strewn with thorns and boulders, prickly and unmovable.
Published - September 04, 2026 07:34 am IST