No Petals Please, We Are Pakistani

Umair A Khan
Aug 8, 1997

The Contrapositive Case


In January 1983, on a crisp winter morning in Hyderabad, Haroon Rashid stepped
out of the pavillion on the first day of a / test match. He was
preceded by an energetic little man with newspaper-wrapped parcels in his
hands. The man tore open a parcel, took out the rose petals inside, and
showered them on his hero's path. Demi- Haroon kept an austere face. He
seemed focussed on the innings ahead, and showed no amusement, gratitude or
disapproval at being made part of a hilarious pre-game show. In due course
another parcel was opened and more petals were showered at Haroon's feet. The
glorified batsman finally reached the stumps and took guard against Balwinder
Singh Harbansingh Sandhu. The acclaimed Haroon Rashid was clean bowled first
ball. He re-trod the freshly-petalled path back to the pavillion.


Haroon Rashid's petal-bearer that day in Hyderabad was probably more rueful of
the rupees wasted than aghast at the dismissal, though Balwinder Singh
Harbansingh Sandhu bowling someone over with anything but his name is
startling. Haroon, you see, was an easy out.



The Base Step


In the inuaugural 1975 World Cup, in a match against the West Indies at
Birmingham, Javed Miandad took his first catch, claimed his first wicket, and
scored his first runs in International . He also defied all bowlers to
get his wicket, making 24 before running himself out. All in a losing cause of
course, as West Indies' last wicket put on 64 runs to win with two deliveries
remaining.

Next year Miandad played his first test innings against New Zealand. Coming in
at 44/3, he made 163. He also scored his maiden double century in his debut
series. With a six year-old's take on proof by induction, I determined that
Miandad was never going to get out if he did not want to.
The Induction


Ten years later, Miandad was still hard at work incrementally proving my brand
of reasoning sound. That year in Sharjah, in the Australasia Cup final against
, he scored a century and 49% of the runs made by the Pakistani batsman.
In the final slog, he overcame an R.R.R. of about 10. And needing 4 runs for a
win, he hit a six off the last ball of the match, to take to 248/9
and himself to 116 not out.

While he was not always thus at center-stage, he was always on-stage
keeping the play going. In October 1978, came to after years of
severed cricketing relations. In the 3rd test at , Imran's two sixes
off Bedi in the final run chase are rumoured to have ended the great spinner's
reign as captain. Watching from the other side was Miandad who remained not
out at 62. In the 1992 world cup, in the semi-final against New Zealand,
everyone remembers Inzamam's 60 off 37 balls which saw through to the
final. Miandad was not out at day's end at 57. In the '92 final, everyone
remembers Akram's and Inzamam's slog. Very few have forgotten Akram's
dismissals of Lamb and Lewis. Coming in at 24/2 off 9 overs, Miandad, with
Imran, took to 163/2 in 39 overs. Miandad remained unbeaten until
cramps forced him to hit out when at 59.
The Axiom


There are batsmen whose arrival sparks mass hara-kiri in the stands.
The scorer increments "Wickets Fallen" in correct anticipation. The bowlers
all beseech their captain to let them improve their statistics. These batsmen
have instilled little expectation and no trust in anyone except their
grandparents. Great form, fortune, connections and batting pitches keep them
in the side. They are the "guaranteed outs". There are batsmen who require all
the breath-bating, fervoured-praying, and finger-crossing of their fans for a
productively long stay. They have earned their supporters expectations but not
necessarily their trust: They have earned neither from their critics. Raise
the pressure a few Kilopascals and they are "easy outs". Then there are those
of whom much is expected but by historical proof, only strong supporters trust
them to man the boat in harsh weather. Most critics are not so inclined. Let
us call such a batsman "not an easy out". There have been very few batsmen
whose arrival at a tense juncture makes smile reassuringly at the wager he
made with Gabriel on the match. As long as a favorable result is theoretically
possible he is the man. No need to panic if it is not theoretically possible:
He has been known to work around Math and Physics. Even when not in good form,
his early dismissal jars the supporters and makes a monotheist out of the
blessed bowler. Such a batsman - and there have been bloody few of them - is
"not an out".

Mind now that a batsman does not have to remain not out in all innings (though
that would help) to be "not an out". Statistics, grace, and power are not
mandatory (though they invariably are his lot). What it takes to be not an
out, is what it takes to induce and sustain a belief in the batsman's
invincibility in all well-wishers and critics.

The Final Lemma


Before the 1996 World Cup, Miandad announced he would retire after the
tournament.

In the 1996 World Cup, for the first time in his Miandad was more
in-shape than in-form. Two years away from test (spent coaching the
Sultan of Brunei's son and playing for Habib Bank, ) had taken its
toll. Still, it did the nostalgic eye good to see him miscuing his lofted
cover drive at National Stadium, , and earning a standing ovation. He
had little influence on the matches, partly because his timing was well off,
partly because batting at No. 6 for the first time in his life, he had little
opportunity to play the anchor. Boycott summed it up nicely: If you are
going to play him, you might as well utilize him.

In the 1996 World Cup no bowler got Miandad out. Much like the 1992 world cup,
and most of the preceding 16 years, he again showed himself (quite literally
in this case) not an out. And much like that first innings at
Birmingham, Miandad ran himself out in his final innings at Bangalore, making
38 in a losing cause.
A Sorry Corollary


Among the few farewell tributes to Miandad in the Pakistani press was a
comment made by then captain Aamir Sohail. He was asked how the team would
fare without Miandad who had recently confirmed his retirement on March 14,
1996. Mr. Sohail replied that the team would fare much better now that Miandad
was not there to meddle in the team's affairs.

Talented as Sohail may be, his demeanour and temperament as a batsman and his
ineptitude in the field as a skipper in the '96 quarterfinal were far more
baneful than Miandad's alleged unwelcome efforts to help captain the side. Mr.
Sohail would do well to keep such sagacious comments to himself; much as he
would have done well to have kept the finger that pointed out the way to
defeat at 113/1 at Bangalore, to himself.

Many Pakistanis watched the quarterfinals. I wonder how many regretted
Miandad's departure as much as 's . lost when Inzamam
fell: Malik and Miandad had been on vacation too long to pose a threat, and
Akram was absent. We had about 20 overs to lament the defeat before the green
light came on for Miandad. Yet, the crowd at Bangalore was still intoxicated
on enemy blood and the Pakistanis were still weighing what should have been
versus what must now be. Amid pre- and indifference, Javed Miandad
quietly walked out of .
A botanical garden for
Miandad.

It is agonizing to look back and see Miandad's last innings sandwiched between
the jingoistic babble of 's Premier Morons and the screeches
of effigy-burning masses and political leaders-turned--inquisitors. It
was agonizing to see Miandad walk back to the mocking festivities of the
Indians and the muted despair of the Pakistani audience, straining for some
sign of acknowledgement. I wonder how many fans gave him even the
minimal recognition of remembering that this was his last innings. I wonder
how many Pakistanis silently applauded his last walk back to the pavillion.

There will be many World Cup matches to win, to lose, to lose to . There
will be many occasions to cheer or bemoan a result. There was only one
chance to thank a man for not - for never - being an out.

And we missed it.