Stop Using Cliches for Pakistan Cricket
Over the years, cricket has evolved as a sport. The discussions involving the game have consequently changed. The data-savvy and incisive commentary we now see emerging from the cricketing fraternity is quite different from the kind of arbitrary, cliched, almost redundant analysis that was once mainstream. But this isn’t a universal phenomenon. In some ways, the fraternity for the most part still seems to be stuck in the past. This is more so the case for Pakistan cricket, which continues to be talked about in cliches.
Here are some of the major descriptors used for Pakistan cricket: Mercurial. Unpredictable. Volatile. Chaotic. Magical. Passionate. Temperamental. Mavericks. Undefinable. Unfathomable. Fighters. Masters of Dark Arts. Cornered Tigers.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think that this isn’t about a group of elite athletes but an exotic tribe described in some old-school Orientalist travelogue. These sorts of banal descriptors are more often than not the maximum extent of commentary the Pakistan cricket team receives. And it is not just the global cricketing fraternity that does this. The supposed ‘experts’ of Pakistan cricket, including former legends, are equally guilty.
But why is this a big deal in the first place? One could argue that Pakistani cricket is, in fact, unpredictable and chaotic. Some of Pakistan’s biggest successes in recent years were achieved when it was least expected of them. On the surface, that does seem to be the case. But there is more. There has to be more. Cricket is too technical of a game for its result to just be at the mercy of a bunch of mavericks.
So here is the thing. Over the past two decades, two things have happened with Pakistan cricket. On one hand, at the administrative and political level, Pakistan has become an increasingly marginalized side. It is not among the Big Three powers of cricket — India, Australia, and England. In many ways, this is reflective of Pakistan’s global isolation on the world stage. Pakistan didn’t get to play home matches for nearly a decade. It has long been shut out of modern cricket’s biggest event, the IPL. It barely registers as an influential voice in how the game is run globally. Despite a large fanbase and immense marketing potential, Pakistani cricket is at best a middle power at the mercy of actual cricketing giants. Modern cricket itself seems to have left Pakistan behind.
On the other hand, despite becoming increasingly marginalized, the Pakistan cricket team has had successes at the global level. They won the T20 World Cup in 2009, the Test Mace in 2016, and the Champions Trophy in 2017. They were the world’s highest-ranked T-20 side for a period of 2 years. They are often one of the few non-Big 3 teams to regularly compete and win key matches in global tournaments. Just recently, they defeated an extremely powerful Indian side in the T-20 World Cup.
The cliched discussion of Pakistan cricket seems to have emerged from these two things — administrative marginalization & dysfunction and on-field success — happening simultaneously. The experts of cricket do not get to see Pakistan’s cricket in the same detail as they do for other countries. Pakistan’s own ‘experts’ and ‘commentators’ also seem to be too caught up in the past to be able to make sense of the team’s success in recent years. Global and Pakistani media seems unequipped to answer this question. How could a team with such a chaotic administrative structure even compete regularly at the elite level? How could a team excluded from cricket’s biggest table continue to punch above its weight? How and why does Pakistan’s cricket team seem immune from the country’s dysfunction? Hence, the constant resorting to cliches and platitudes to describe Pakistan cricket every time it wins at the global level. It makes for a simpler narrative.
And yet, when you sit down and sift through all of Pakistan’s greatest victories in the 21st century, it becomes clear that there is more at play than just a bunch of unpredictable kids off the street upending cricketing norms. Instead, what we see is a group of athletes who understand their own game well, undertake robust preparations, make good plans, and execute them perfectly. This is a team that plays good cricket. And good cricket is what wins you matches. Of course, that’s not to say that the Pakistani cricket team is somehow unique in this. That is how all good teams are. And it is also not to say that the Pakistani team is always that way. Of course, there are many moments when the structural flaws of Pakistan are reflected in its team. Batting collapses, overseas losses, and limited use of modern cricketing techniques are all very much a part of Pakistan cricket. But just because it seems unlikely that Pakistan can play good cricket due to all their structural barriers, it doesn’t mean that the Pakistani cricket team is an unexplainable mercurial ragtag bunch of underdogs.
All of Pakistan’s biggest successes have come through playing good cricket. Let’s do a quick overview. When they won the T-20 World Cup in 2009, they were already ahead of the curve in T-20 cricket. They had death-over specialists back when death-over bowling was only beginning to be recognized as a particular skill. They already had pinch-hitters to up their run rate, anchors to hold one end, and spinners who could strangle the opposition in the middle overs. This was at a time when T-20 had not become the hyper-specialized competitive format it is now.
When they won the Test Mace in 2016, they had spent the past six years perfecting their winning method in the deserts of UAE. They had developed spinners who could wear down a batting attack, fast bowlers who could bowl long tiring spells, and batsmen who could outlast the opposition in a battle of attrition. To top it off, they had perfected the kind of field placements and bowling combinations needed to get 20 wickets in a UAE test. Even when they tied a series in England in 2016, they had spent months conditioning themselves for that country’s weather and pitches. The Pakistani test team did not reach the summit by being a group of mercurials. They were a consistent, well-oiled unit that knew what it was doing.
When they won the 2017 Champions Trophy, they had finally caught up to modern cricket’s standards in fielding and fitness. And then they went ahead of the curve in showing how you can win matches by taking wickets right in the middle overs. Their bowlers knew how to target specific opposition batsmen. Their batsmen knew that you don’t have to blast your way to win matches. The captain of that team understood how to press on in key moments. When they become the highest-ranked T-20 side a couple of years ago, they did it on the back of a well-coordinated bowling lineup and the presence of batsmen who could give them enough runs to play within conditions familiar to them.
Of course, luck played its part too. There were moments when things went Pakistan’s way — such as the famous no-ball in the 2017 CT final — but to put it all on luck is problematic too. This team created situations where they could make full use of those moments and conditions that favored them.
And now, once again, as Pakistan crushed a powerful Indian team in the opening match of the 2021 T-20 World Cup, the same old cliche about ‘mercurial Pakistan’ emerged. Commentators went all gaga about a ‘passionate’ and ‘highly talented’ Pakistan side. Everyone, including the fans, struggled to make sense of Pakistan’s victory. How could this team, this dysfunctional and marginalized team, even manage to pull it off? The answer is rather simple. They played good cricket.
In all their successes, the Pakistani cricket team efficiently utilized the resources available to them. They played to get into situations where they could maximize their strengths and minimize (or at least conceal) their weaknesses. They tactically outwitted stronger, more well-provisioned teams through a mix of planning, mindful play, and deployment of surprise elements. In retrospect, none of Pakistan’s successes in cricket seem like blind luck. They genuinely outplayed their opponents.
Take the India game for example. While a ‘mercurial’ Pakistan makes for an interesting and simpler narrative, the truth is that they played well. They had done their homework on Indian batsmen and conditions. Shaheen Afridi’s spell against Indian openers is not just down to his talent. It was part of a larger plan to trap Rohit Sharma and K L Rahul right at the start of the innings. Afridi did not pluck those deliveries out of thin air. He had done it multiple times before. He had honed this particular skill in T20Is and PSL. Based on pure statistics, he had a one-in-three chance of getting a wicket in the first over. Similarly, Pakistan’s openers did not produce a magical partnership just randomly. Both men had been batting together for long periods of time in T20Is. Both had marshaled high-pressure chases before. Both understood each other’s strengths. This wasn’t a fluke. Pakistani team was genuinely prepared to produce a performance like this. As they were in 2009 WT20, 2017 CT, and in all the victories they achieved.
So then, why do we have to keep denying Pakistan the analysis they deserve? Why do we have to infantilize and stereotype their performances as nothing more than the work of ‘mavericks’ or ‘magicians’? Why not think of Pakistan as a proper cricketing team that can, and does, punch above its weight in global cricket? Why should the dysfunctionality of their cricketing structure and their marginalization stop us from assessing the Pakistani cricket team on its own merits?
New Zealand is also another small team that has continued to achieve well beyond its means in global cricket. But you never see cliches used for them. They are considered a well-oiled, well-prepared team that plays good cricket.
Why, exactly, do we need to use cliches for Pakistan? Let’s stop. It's time we start talking about this team in the same way we would talk about any good team. That is the least we can do.
