An endless cycle of heartbreak? This time around its game over and goodbye for the Pakistan Cricket team and its fans.
One more Sunday wasted. One more match winning knock by Kohli against pakistan. A slew of our neighbours’ god-awful and tired ‘TV breaking’ jokes. Despite vowing not to do so, the entire nation tuned in to the big match once again which is standard for us.
However, this time, there was notably little fanfare or excitement preceding a game that is time and again touted as ‘the greatest rivalry’, for none of us harboured any delusions about our team winning against the current T20 world champions India.
It wasn’t a question of if Pakistan would lose, rather how badly.
Maybe I’m being too cynical but I was once a starry-eyed admirer of PCT during their wholesome, ‘dosti-yaari’ era and it has taken an embarrassing amount of losses to engage with the sport with this level of nonchalance.
Unaware that I was signing up for a ton of heartbreak and hypertension in what would become a kind of toxic relationship, it was the 2021 T20 world cup match against India that had me sitting down to watch a cricket match for the first time in several years.
The only people I could recognise in this new Pakistani team were Muhammad Hafeez and Shoaib Malik. Meanwhile, Afridi also looked a little different. Nevertheless, the duo consisting of some guys named Rizwan and Babar would lead us to a 10-wicket win.
What me and Babar Azam have in common with regard to that day though is the fact that that game would mark the beginning of the end although it seemed like the opposite in that moment.
As a fangirl and sports watcher I am not above being pathetically emotional over my favourite band or sports team. Admittedly, my newfound interest in cricket was also driven mostly by vibes rather than sound technical knowledge of the game.
While I do not allow the label of ‘seasonal fan’ to undermine my experiences, in my defence, there is so little that unites us in this country. Plus, it felt good to be part of the collective celebration of a team that only got better with every match. Pakistan’s Cricket team circa 2021 truly felt like it was a microcosm of a potential Pakistan that overcame its problems to achieve progress.
So while the 2021 campaign left me in tears, I still rallied behind the team, hopeful that next time the glory would be ours.
I grew up hearing the phrase ‘God does not help a nation unless they help themselves’. Not to veer into blasphemous territory but in 2022 it felt like PCT embodied the total opposite sentiment of the saying since ‘Qudrat ka nizam’ seemed to work in their favour even though the players did little to help their own situation.
Going to the semi-final from the brink of an early exit, the 2022 T20 world cup was proof that Pakistan is as much a nation of mathematicians and astrologers than it is of fast bowlers. We also went into that tournament high off an Asia Cup victory against India. If I were to do a ‘bottle this moment and inject it into my veins’ round up for this team, that match would be among the top 3 alongside the semi-final win against New Zealand.
Picture this: It is the night of 4th September 2022. The air was heavy with the promise of rain and the sweet taste of a win against our rivals. Pakistan needed 30 runs within 3 overs with 6 wickets to spare.
As Asif Ali’s ball soared through the air, into the palms of India’s Arshdeep Singh, my hands instinctively rose to shield my eyes from watching yet another dream shatter one catch at a time, until it didn’t. In a surreal twist of events, the crowd around me erupted into cheers as the catch was dropped and Pakistan subsequently went on to win that match.
As it goes, resilience, hope and being wildly delusional can only carry you so far.
In fact, it is surprising that for a nation so racked by instability and stagnation, the words ‘unpredictable’, ‘corned tigers’ and ‘resilient’ were ever a compliment. Soon enough the cracks would begin to show in the form of mismanagement and injuries but that niggling faith that we will bounce back from the trenches would begrudgingly remain.
Now that my detachment from the sport allows me to see the state of affairs more objectively, I can tune into games with the solemnity of a condemned man walking to the gallows.
This also prompts introspection about whether I really care about the sport or just the way it made me feel.
So I ask, do we as a nation care about the betterment of this team or are we yearning for what it represents? For me it is the heady sense of patriotism and sharing communal joy and sorrow that I struggle to rouse on other occasions. For others it might represent the belief that we can achieve victory in spite of the debilitating problems that make everyday in this country a battle to survive.
Perhaps it is time to explore other avenues where that joy might also exist such as women’s cricket or the sport that brought us Olympic Gold after 32 years.
As we grapple with the nail-in-the-coffin loss of last night, it feels necessary to establish certain resolutions early on in 2025. Firstly, we deserve better as a country, including our athletes who are routinely scapegoated to gloss over the systemic shortcomings of the institutions that handle sports in this country.
Secondly, more than anyone we need to hold ourselves accountable for becoming so invested in one sport both emotionally and financially, that an inevitable defeat blinds us to the strides being made in other areas, especially without the support and backing that is afforded to this cricket.
Let’s be real though, we’re all going to shamelessly show up for the next match and the one after that too. In the end, this game will just be one more colonial relic that continues to ravage us long after our overlords have departed.
