A Pakistan supporter at the SCG hung a banner that read, “History repeats itself, 1992-2022.” Several others repeated the same theme on their banners.
The parallel is irresistible: As in 1992, en route to winning the 50-over World Cup at SCG, Pakistan were on the brink, doomed to a group-stage exit. But a slice of fortune winked—their league game against England, wherein they were bundled out for 74, was abandoned due to rain and they escaped with a valuable point, enough to scrape through to the last four.
Here, they were almost certain to catch an early flight back home, before the Netherlands pulled off a shock defeat over South Africa. To stretch the similarities, they faced the same opposition as they had in 1992, New Zealand.
But unlike the 1992 semifinal, this was far from a close contest. Pakistan demolished New Zealand, first with a thrilling exhibition of pure fast bowling and electric fielding, and then with an assertive display with the bat. This was Pakistan’s perfect match, though it’s the imperfections that had accompanied their journey to the last four that make them the most watchable team in the world.
That they are the most mercurial side in the world is a cliche, but it’s a cliche that continues to be as relevant as it is appealing. At a time when cricket, especially T20 cricket, has become so stats-driven and pragmatic, Pakistan infuse romance, transport the game to more carefree times.
At the same time, to say that they were abysmal throughout the tournament would be harsh. They lost the first two games, but narrowly. Against India, it took the most iron-willed batsman in the world to snatch the game away. Against Zimbabwe, they fell short by a mere run. By no stretch of the imagination did they play poor cricket as it was projected. But their passionate fans and frenzied pundits would not hold back their angst and rage.
Though hurt and angry, they did not lose hope. Nor did the players. For, they have been on the precipice of several such cliffs and then climbed back. When their batting consultant Matthew Hayden expressed his surprise at the upturn of fortunes, Shadab Khan would tell him: “Welcome to Pakistan.” No team has managed the unthinkable or unimaginable as frequently as Pakistan have. They are, at once, an explosive yet implosive side.
Journeys of personal renaissance
Captain Babar Azam might not have rendered an inspirational speech like Imran Khan in 1992, but his team raised the game like Imran’s “cornered tigers”. Like Inzamam-ul-Haq burst forth in 1992, Mohammad Haris brought with him a wave of freshness with his clean hitting that sank South Africa. Shadab Khan has been their lone leading light until then, but soon, other senior players too began scripting their journey of personal renaissance.
None as emphatically as Shaheen Shah Afridi. His build-up ruined by injuries, he rediscovered himself just at the ripest time. Starting with the South Africa game, he has snared nine wickets for 60 runs in 12 overs. He regained his swing, pace and hostility; he bagged two crucial wickets too, that of hard-hitting opener Finn Allen and mainstay Kane Williamson, who was just looking to accelerate. He makes the quartet of pacers all the more ferocious.
As pleasing a sight as Afridi ripping the batters apart was the frame of Babar stroking glorious boundaries. Pakistan’s modern-day stalwart was riding a storm, his timing had deserted him, his placement had forsaken him. But just at the right time, he struck a smooth half-century, allaying fears of a sustained period of slump. An off-drive of Lockie Ferguson was worth framing in a cricket art gallery. Apart from the ball he edged off Trent Boult in the first over, he hardly played a false shot. The balance of body was back; as did the decisiveness of his footwork.
The confidence rubbed onto his partner Mohammad Rizwan, who copped criticism for his lethargic batting. But he proved his critics with a flurry of boundaries in the power-play and completed a half-century himself. Together, they furnished Pakistan with a 105-run opening partnership that stubbed out the last lingering hopes of New Zealand, who were consigned to another heartbreak.
But as the Black Caps captain Kane Williamson admitted during the presentation, they were beaten by a more determined side. The determination wrote itself large on their body language on the field. Pakistan were seldom paragons of fielding virtues, on the contrary, they were often comical, but in Sydney, they flung their bodies around, ran behind the balls maniacally, clung onto every catch, aborted boundaries near the ropes and effected run-outs. Shadab Khan’s direct hit to catch Devon Conway short of ground embodied their effervescence on the field. “We were outstanding on the field,” Babar would say.
The turnaround had renewed belief among the fans. The destiny-dwellers, though, have reasons to be both optimistic and cynical. Facing England in the final, a repeat of 1992, would lift the hope. But less so if the opponents happen to be India, who had beaten them in the inaugural edition of the T20 World Cup in South Africa. Depending on their opponents next Sunday at the MCG, they would want history to repeat, or not repeat, itself.
