Practice: How important is it? (Part 2)

This is in continuation of my last post on the subject of practice. Since then I’ve conducted a few impromptu experiments, with a stop watch, as to the extent and quality of practice that one can get through the Knack drill (discussed in my last post) and the results have really surprised me.

Some of you who have read my last post may want to ask, what purpose hitting a slow moving ball against a wall will achieve? More than you think. I have never once heard of a single great footballer who didn’t practice his skills against a wall (with sometimes not even a football but the bladder of some animal wrapped in rags) and look at the skills these guys have. It’s all about making the most of what you have.

The Knack drill  requires that one stands at a distance of only 8 feet from a wall and try to play the ball on the rebound for as long as possible. By my calculations a golf ball, when thrown from this distance, rebounds and reaches the player on the bounce in somewhere between 0.90 to 1.05 seconds. This is a generalization in the sense that it depends on how fast you throw the ball in the first place. Let me qualify my statement further and say that during these experiments I was doing two things at the same time, i.e., throwing/catching the ball as well as working the stop watch – I might’ve obtained more accurate results with a partner assisting me.

In this drill since the player shapes to play the ball once it hits the wall, therefore, it gives him about half a second to play the ball, i.e., between 0.45 and 0.525 seconds. The bat’s downswing, the feet moving towards the point of impact and the transfer of weight required to hit the ball is all achieved in that time. This attunes the body to move quickly, from the feet up to the head, into an appropriate position to play the ball repeatedly – thus making this motion second nature and almost instinctive.

Once again, what good does this drill do for a club cricketer starved for practice? In addition to developing good middling habits…

Ian Pont, in his book ‘The Fast Bowler’s Bible’ claims that the standard club quick bowls somewhere in the vicinity of 70-77 miles per hour. This implies that the ball reaches the batsman, over the 22 yards, in somewhere between 0.58 to 0.64 seconds. In fact, with someone bowling at 100 miles per hour the ball will reach the batsman, over 22 yards, in 0.45 seconds and at 90 miles per hour in 0.50 seconds.

So, in short, the Knack drill helps the player to develop reflexes which allow him to play with comparative ease balls delivered at around 90 miles per hour (or quicker) once adapted to the 22 yard length. The only problem then seems to be one of picking the ball up over a distance of 22 yards and to be able to see it when it’s travelling at speeds in excess of 90 miles per hour.

Practice: How important is it?

In his book ‘Outliers’, published in the year 2008, Malcolm Gladwell discusses the ‘10,000-Hour Rule’ which postulates that for excellence in any field, be it music, sports and/or software programming, repetition of specific tasks for a 10,000 hour period is one of the key requisites.

So, where does that leave us cricketers? Ideally, practice involves some form of the following basic feedback-loop:

1.       Laying down specific goals for acquisition of certain skills;

2.       Repetition of tasks to hone those skills;

3.       Feedback with regard to actual performance of those tasks; and

4.       Adjustments are made in the way the tasks are performed (to get improved results).

All of us know that rarely does a cricket practice session follow the ideal requirements of practice. The demand of catering to all team members in limited time means that the batsmen get fixed timeslots at the crease while bowlers get rotated. Most of us also know that bowlers hate to be cannon fodder even if it is in the nets and will not willingly consent to feeding pitched up deliveries to the batsman so that he can groove his shots. In such an environment, the chances of getting in a large number of repetitions of a given task (while also getting feedback as to the success or otherwise of one’s efforts) can be pretty limited. Forget about hitting the 10,000 hours of practice in the nets alone.

So, from the batman’s perspective, it basically boils down to throw-downs – the average club cricketer in Pakistan would be lucky to even glimpse a bowling machine let alone practice on one. The issue with throw-downs is that they are often hell on the shoulder of the coach or partner feeding the ball. Secondly, there is often the problem of finding a partner who matches your drive and desire to practice.

If that is indeed the case then a ‘no-cost’ and ‘no-partner’ alternative can be found in a variation of Sir Donald Bradman’s childhood game of hitting a golf ball with cricket stump against a wall, repetitively. This is similar to playing tennis against a wall or kicking a football against a wall or like many squash players who practice their game alone while playing the ball on the rebound.

The Don in his book the ‘Art of Cricket’ states that any aspiring cricketer should take the opportunity to play as much as possible with a ball (no matter if it is a baseball, tennis ball, golf ball or a cricket ball) as it develops the brain’s capacity to understand the movement dynamics of the ball.

To try to match Sir Donald’s skill by using golf ball and cricket stump would be overwhelming for most of us (huge understatement here). It would be more appropriate to begin with a small plastic cricket bat (wider surface to control the ball) and tennis ball (slower and bigger target) and try to keep the ball in play on the rebound for as long as possible. As one’s skill level improves one can move to a faster ball and/or a smaller/narrower bat. Initially, it might seem odd and unnatural but if you stick to it you’ll observe a huge change.

As I’ve referred before in my blog, Mr. Anthony Shillinglaw has written a book titled ‘Bradman Revisited: the Legacy of Sir Donald Bradman’. He has suggested the following exercise in his book as a first step to practicing the way the young Don did. The point of this drill, that he calls ‘the Knack’, is to develop a habitual and automatic body response for the purpose of controlling a fast moving ball.

You stand opposite a wall at a distance of about 8 feet in a manner similar to a tennis player or a squash player. For a right handed batsman the bat is held in the left (top) hand and the ball is thrown at the wall with the right. At what height and speed the ball is thrown depends upon the skill of the one practicing. The ball rebounding from the wall should bounce once before reaching you and you should strive to hit it back to the wall to play again and again on the rebound.

The focus of the player should be on the ball which will aid automatic response to the moving ball. The effort should be to strike the ball with the full face of the bat and to try to hit through the ball and allow the bat to continue past the shoulder in a rotary/circular fashion to start back behind the shoulder. Compared to when you move the bat back after striking the ball, to start again at the top of the downswing, this saves precious time especially when the ball is moving fast. It also helps develops a full follow through which once acquired will aid you to hit the ball with more power in an actual cricket match.

As your skill level improves you may feel like moving on to playing with a faster ball and a narrower bat. Repeated practice in this manner will not only aid better middling but develop relaxed focus on the ball.

The changing face of the limited overs game

With the modern day ODI innovations of changing the ball after 34 overs, the batting powerplay and the advent of the T20 game, gone are the days when bowlers held sway in the slog or death overs of a limited overs game.

Now, there’s almost no possibility of bowlers getting reverse swing and with the field drawn up in the batting powerplay – generally taken in the last 5 overs of the innings – a target of even 10 odd runs an over appears to be a cakewalk. Add to this the fact that the T20 game has taught cricketers that no total is un-gettable and ODIs are no longer an even contest between bat and ball.

A few good overs and even 12-14 runs an over can be achieved. Even if you don’t have too many wickets left, some lusty and charmed hitting in the batting powerplay sees the ball sailing all over the ground mostly to the bowler’s disadvantage. Will we ever see the spectacle of a pair of bowlers, like Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis, changing the course of a match with deadly reverse swing at the death?

I doubt it. However, ironically, although the contest is no longer even between bat and ball, what it has done is that it’s made the game more evenly poised between the big teams and the not so big teams. The difference between mediocre sides and great ones is at times only because of some great bowlers – think Glen McGrath, Shane Warne, Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis – and once the bowlers are no longer as potent as they used to be then you have more evenly matched sides. At least in the limited overs game.

Consider the results of the last 4 ODIs played in United Arab Emirates and Australia. South Africa and Australia were the favourite teams while Pakistan and Sri Lanka were the underdogs. We’ve seen Sri Lanka pull off a miraculous win against Australia where they were 107 for 8 chasing a target of 240. Lasith Malinga and Angelo Matthews pulled off what must be ranked as the biggest heist in the history of ODI cricket by scoring 132 runs in quick time to leave the Aussies totally hapless. In the process they also managed to break the existing world record for the 9^th wicket between Syed Kirmani and Kapil Dev against Zimbabwe in the 1983 World Cup.

In a similar manner underdogs Pakistan managed to snatch two improbable victories (both by the slimmest margin of one wicket with only one ball to spare) against South Africa in the 2^nd and 4^th ODIs of their 5 match series. In the 3^rd game although Pakistan was unable to pull off a victory but they got so close to winning that cracks started to appear in the much vaunted South African fielding and bowling.

It looks as if the big guns have started feeling the heat and evidence of choking has been evident in all of the last 4 matches. What does this imply for the future?

Watch out for the 2011 World Cup to be played in India, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh. On low, slow and batsman friendly tracks we might well see a new Champion emerging in place of the once mighty Australians (3 consecutive World Cup winners), especially since they are no longer as mentally tough and dangerous as they used to be.

Kudos to Fawad Alam but whom to blame?

Last evening Fawad Alam played one of the best knocks of his short ODI career and nearly pulled off another improbable win for Pakistan.

Under trying conditions Fawad Alam managed to make a chase of the target despite the established big guns having returned to the pavilion. He was ably supported by Wahab Riaz who played a gem of an innings in a short but extremely sweet stay.

Fawad Alam was struggling to time the ball early on and you could see that he was not a happy man. But on the departure of Abdul Razzaq he took charge and despite the earlier troubles manfully took the attack to the South African bowlers. Once the batting powerplay was taken in the 43^rd over, Fawad Alam hit a couple of consecutive boundaries and courageously went about making the most of the fielders coming into the circle.

Fawad Alam, small and slim, doesn’t appear to be a big hitter of the ball but he ably nudged and chipped the ball around to keep up with a scoring rate of over 9 an over. Had Wahab Riaz not stepped in it might have been too much of an ask for Fawad Alam, however, he was game for the challenge. That’s what impressed me most about him. I’m a fan of his from now on, no matter what anyone else might have to say.

Wahab Riaz’s cameo was extremely timely but, unfortunately, the decision to tell him to calm down may have caused his downfall. I believe it might have been better to just let him continue to tear apart the South Africans.

At the end I felt like strangling Saeed Ajmal. Let me just say first off that as a bowler I have great respect for him despite that disastrous performance in the T20 World Cup Semi-Final against Australia where Michael Hussey took him to the cleaners. However, in this match he really let Fawad Alam (and the Pakistan team) down in his childish attempts to play the hero. I could see Fawad Alam advise him to stay focused on the singles but he was still going for the big wild hoicks – without any success.

Do any of you remember another wicketkeeper named Zulqarnain from the 1986 Australasia Cup final in Sharjah? He was the one who got bowled while playing a cross batted heave when all that was needed was for him to take a single and give the strike to Javed Miandad. Miandad that day, with Tauseef Ahmad’s help and despite Zulqarnain’s failed heroics, managed to win the game for Pakistan by hitting the last ball for a huge six and earned legendary status just for that feat alone – he was otherwise a legend too, the first real finisher in the ODI game. But I digress. Zulqarnain never played for Pakistan again as far as I can remember – that’s the influence of Imran Khan for you. If you couldn’t be a team man then you couldn’t be in the team.

If Saeed Ajmal, who is primarily a bowler, let the team down by not tapping the ball and looking for singles then Imran Farhat, the opening batsman, badly let the team down with his selfish and tortoise-like 47 runs for which he wasted 86 balls. I felt a bit of glee at his dismissal. He should be axed. He can’t bat and doesn’t field too well either. Had he been able to fill in a part time bowler’s role I might have tolerated his inconsistent and selfish batting but what does he bring to the team?

If I had my way I’d play Kamran Akmal purely as an opening batsman in the ODIs and T20 games. The pressure to perform well in two areas would be taken off Kamaran Akmal’s shoulders and he would be able to focus simply on his batting. Plus being a keeper he would make a better fielder than Imran Farhat.

Fawad Alam and Wahab Riaz created so much pressure on the South Africans that they literally forgot how to bowl and field. The line and length was once again inappropriate (to say the least), simple catches were dropped and overthrows conceded. Panic had set in and just some sensible batting from Saeed Ajmal would’ve given Fawad Alam the opportunity to cash in on this breakdown in the well-oiled machine that is South Africa.

In contrast to Abdul Razzaq’s innings in the second ODI, Fawad Alam, who is not one to score too many runs from boundaries alone, was not in a position to decline singles and make up for it with sixes and fours. It also shows that Saeed Ajmal who has been run out on three consecutive occasions on this trip, i.e., twice in the ODIs and once in the second T20 game, can’t be relied upon to give the strike back to the scoring partner.

Abdul Razzaq didn’t trust him to give the strike back in the second ODI and thus Saeed Ajmal’s wicket was sacrificed – very calculating of Abdul Razzaq but thank God for that. And maybe that’s why Pakistan won that game otherwise Saeed Ajmal would’ve managed to ruin that game for Pakistan too.

If I have come off giving the impression that some of our team lost us the match then please let me correct that impression. Just as Abdul Razzaq won the last ODI single handedly with his century, so too did Hashi Amla for his team in this match.

The reason I haven’t yet covered Hashim Amla’s excellent knock in my post is that since it was he who was the difference between the two sides, therefore, he deserved space all to himself at the end. South Africa managed to score 228 simply because of his 119 runs which were scored off only 126 balls – in an innings where only one other batsman was able to score more than 20 runs. He was all that stood between Pakistan bowling South Africa out for maybe as little as 150. Pakistan bowled extremely well – for me Shoaib Akhtar was simply outstanding. But Hashim Amla batted even better. I can’t praise his knock enough.

Having watched South Africa since their readmission to international cricket I have yet to see any South African batsman who doesn’t look blocky and machine-like while batting. Unfortunately, I’ve never seen Barry Richards bat or Graeme Pollock take the crease so I concede that pre-apartheid era batsmen may have been different. From what I have seen since 1991 they seem to have none of the grace and elegance that someone like Ricky Ponting or Mark Waugh or most batsmen from the sub-continent possess. They are the “technically correct” yet “unpleasing to the eye” specimens of batting consistency. Their game is based on brute strength and graft in various quantities.

However, the exception, in my humble opinion, to the above statement is Hashim Amla. He has grace and elegance. He seems to be perfectly balanced while executing his strokes. To top it all off he doesn’t appear to be scoring half as quickly as he actually does. It is at times a surprise that he has scored a fifty without you even having noticed him get there. Why would that be? Because he does it with “effortless ease”.

Compared to Hashim Amla, Imran Farhat is “ease-less effort” and no results. Enough said.

The many faces of Abdul Razzaq

The 109 off just 72 balls which saw Pakistan securing an unlikely victory over the machine-like South Africans, in Abu Dhabi on Sunday, was the greatest innings that Abdul Razzaq has ever played in any form of the game.

He was cool throughout and appeared totally in control of his nerves and shots. He never once showed any signs of nervous energy, which so many batsmen display through jerky movements and long walks towards square leg.

He knew he was the man to finish the job and declined to go for singles when most would have taken a single and relied on their batting partners to give the strike back to them. He even sacrificed Saeed Ajmal, the number 10, to retain the strike. This shows how calculated his approach was.

It looked as if he had a concept of the way in which he wanted to win the match and he didn’t want to stray from the script. Such was his influence on the game that he scored 62 of the last 65 runs.

He imperiously dispatched the ball flying over the fence on more occasions than he hit fours. Why pierce gaps with ground shots when you can hit huge sixes over the heads of fielders? How many of us gave up hope of Pakistan winning the match when Fawad Alam was dismissed? Not Abdul Razzaq.

For most, who had the pleasure to see his superlative century, this type of cricket is what really defines Abdul Razzaq. He is known for his big hitting and not so consistent performances.

The inconsistency in his performances stems partially from being switched around in the batting order. He has batted at every position from number 2 to 11. Most frequently he has batted at the numbers 7 and 8 positions – 122 out of 212 innings have been at these positions. Once he has even batted as the last man but that was very early in his career.

I remember that he was once even touted as future captaincy material because of his all-round skills, patience and his nerves of steel. The reasons why he didn’t attain that job aren’t apparent but there may be some truth in the allegations that he did not see eye to eye with Inzamam-ul-Haq’s policy of enforced Islamisation of the Pakistan team.

Surprisingly, for a man who has come to be known as a destroyer of bowling attacks – when he is in the mood – he was used in a unique role in the 1999 World Cup in England. In fact, the way he batted patiently at the one down position was even given a name – ‘pinch-blocker’. His 9 innings in that tournament yielded 170 runs at a measly average of 18.89 but amazingly his strike rate was 46.20 per hundred balls - more in keeping with a Geoffery Boycott or a Sunil Gavaskar than the man we know as Abdul Razzaq.

In another uncharacteristic display (for the big hitter in him) during a Test in Mohali, India in 2005, he scored 71 runs in Pakistan’s second innings off 260 balls for which he batted for 346 minutes, i.e., five and three quarter hours. Pakistan managed to stave off defeat thanks to Abdul Razzaq and Kamran Akmal staying together for 56 overs.

It is said that he knows only two ways to bat – stop or stomp. Allegedly, Inzamam-ul-Haq described Abdul Razzaq as having a first and fourth gear only. He does have a tendency to get bogged down if you don't allow him to score off his favourite shots but heaven help you if you can’t stop him from playing his staple big shots.

He first made his appearance based on the strength of his bowling but over the years he has lost some pace and bite. However, many will recall his 5 for 31 against Sri Lanka where he, with devastating reverse swing, took 4 wickets without conceding any runs in just 9 balls. The match was tied even though at one stage Sri Lanka needed just 24 runs off 10 overs with 8 wickets remaining. That performance may have been the bowling equivalent of the match winning century he scored over the weekend.

The soldier-like demeanor of Abdul Razzaq is what the Pakistan team requires but to be fair to the man he needs to have a settled place in the team. The consistency will then be on display.

Up, up and away

I

n my last post I talked about the probable reasons why I was picked to play cricket on Saturday and I must confess that all my conjectures were incorrect, which actually wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

I wasn’t picked because our team’s kit was in my custody. The team I played for had their own kit – which I too used. Nor was our wicket keeper selected because he had a kit. We were apparently both picked because there was room for a wicket keeper and a bowler in the side.

The match was played in a sports complex maintained by the Pakistan Army. There was tight security – armed patrols in open topped vehicles – and lots of checkposts even before we reached the ground. Once at the ground we could see that we were right in the middle of a high alert army establishment with a sandbagged machine gun post manned by a helmeted soldier and more armed patrolling.

In the background an army band was playing martial music to the beat of the traditional army drummers. Over at one end of the complex it was clear that there was a firing range. We could frequently hear, loudly and clearly, bursts of shots being fired all day long.

Historically, England’s Test matches in Pakistan have often been interrupted by rioting, tear gas and aerial firing which they, with good reason, have found disconcerting. If ever the England team want to practice under simulated conditions to get their players used to threatening environments then this would be the place for them. Constant reminders about the law and order situation in the shape of checkposts, machine gun nests and armed patrolling. Background noises of intermittent firing and army personnel doing their drills to the accompaniment of loud shouts (of what sounded like “Ten-hut”) and the crashing of heavy military issue boots in unison are designed to get the blood pumping.

Well, our blood did get pumped up. Winning the toss and batting first our side managed to score freely early on. In this we were generously helped by some really wayward bowling by the opposition. With the runs coming without restraint and the ball traveling very quickly over a level outfield I felt as if our opponents were short of men.

Incidentally, THEY WERE ACTUALLY ONE MAN SHORT! Their eleventh player was expected to arrive shortly and in the spirit of camaraderie I was asked to help them make up the numbers and I duly complied. It was all very cordial and generous.

The wicket as my younger brother said was in two-tone. There were large cracks at one end while at the other end it was fairly well packed and smooth. You could actually see a triangular patch where the smoothness transitioned rather abruptly into cracking. We decided that when our turn to bowl came our best bowler, a quickish left arm spinner who has actually played first class cricket – albeit in the last century – would be allowed to make full use of the cracks.

Apparently it never occurred to our opponents that their leg-spinner (a young man who had represented Islamabad at the Under-19 level) could make exceptional use of that patch. He had good bounce and the ability to bowl a mean googly which was hard to read. Failure to make the most of what resources a captain has often results in lost matches.  

The score kept piling on till the spinners were introduced. By that time our team had scored 90 odd runs in the first 8 overs for the loss of only one wicket. However, with the ball not coming on to the bat quite as nicely and the occasional kick and jump that the spinners were getting the scoring rate soon started to fall slightly. The situation wasn’t alarming but our batsmen soon started losing their wickets in wasted attempts at picking up the scoring rate. So much so that in the last 12 overs we lost 9 wickets while scoring 93 runs.

I’m sure some of you might remember I opened the batting in the last match that I played. Well, the mighty had fallen and pretty badly too. I was last man in with only 9 balls to go in our allotted 20 overs. I took a couple of singles off as many balls while my partner also tried to keep rotating the strike. With 2 balls to go I decided to risk going over mid-off against the off-spinner. I failed to reach to the pitch of the ball and smother the spin. I know, I know. I deserved to get out… and I did. Do I have to recite the rule that one should never drive against the spin?

Our innings ended with a hiss rather than a bang but we had managed to score 188 off our allotted 20 overs.

When the match resumed after a short break, I was given the ball for the second over and the first ball I bowled was, I believe, the worst ball I’ve ever bowled. It was really short without much pace and wide of the off stump. The batsman’s eyes must’ve lit up and he must’ve smacked his lips too. God knows he had enough time to smack his lips as well as the ball, that’s how slow the ball was. He cut it straight to the fielder at point. Unfortunately for him he didn’t manage to keep it down and the catch was smartly taken. I HAD STRUCK!

I was more exultant about the fact that I had picked up a wicket with the worst possible ball than having got an important breakthrough. There was a lot of back thumping and handshakes all around and then I was coming in to bowl again. I made a couple of balls whiz just outside the off-stump beating the batsman before bowling a couple of wides down the leg. A misfield led to a four and a bad ball resulted in another. But at the end of the over I bowled one just outside off which the batsman managed to steer to point – the same fielder who had taken the smart catch off my bowling – and set off for a sharp single. The throw came straight to me and I was in position behind the stumps. The batsman was caught just short of his crease. We had struck again.

Superman bats

The fielder (he shall remain anonymous) who took the catch off my bowling at point and affected a run out in the same over had earlier also managed to pick up a couple of boundaries before being brilliantly caught at short third man – an unlucky dismissal. His dashing attire when stepping out to bat reminded us of the ‘Man of Steel’ – not the two time ex-premier of Pakistan but the man from the planet Krypton – SUPERMAN!

Superman returns

These early strikes created a lot of pressure on the opposition and for the fourth over of the innings I was taken off and our best bowler came on to bowl and he actually did make really good use of the cracks. It was an inspiring move. The runs dried up and the batsmen started getting desperate.

We were not only able to keep the score down but also pick up wickets with great regularity. Soon enough the required rate also started pressing our opponents to attempt the worst possible shots. Although a couple of them did make valiant efforts to retrieve the situation but it was a case of too little too late.

The opposition had not helped themselves by conceding around 30-40 runs in extras and dropping a couple of catches – whereas we managed to keep the extras down and didn’t drop any catches. Furthermore, just as our main bowler (the left-arm spinner) really turned the screws on their batsmen by using the cracks at one end of the wicket so might their main bowler (the leg-spinner) have done too had he been used from the right end. Missed opportunities can make or break a match and the captain.

In the end we won by around 47 runs – I can’t be sure because the scoreboard was only updated at the end of each over and I didn’t check the exact score with the scorer – and just as we walked out of the ground it started to rain.

It was a perfect end to a thoroughly enjoyable match. Even more so when you take into account the margin of loss in the previous match that I played.

Next post I'll try and write an ode to Abdul Razzaq's superlative batting exploits in the second ODI against South Africa.

How I was selected for tomorrow’s T20 match

This morning I was looking to arrange a hike with a very good friend of mine for early on Saturday and I was desperate to go on the hike. Why was I so desperate to go hiking and what does hiking have to do with a blog on cricket, you might ask?

Well, the hike was an alternative to playing cricket (which plan unfortunately did not come to fruition). I was beat up about not playing on Saturday – for me, these days, the week consists of Saturdays and Sundays, i.e., cricket days, the rest of the days are just fillers – but I put on a brave face and didn’t let people know how disappointed I really was.

Even the hike was in doubt as my friend, let’s just call him Mr. T, had caught the flu virus. So, all in all, it was a cricket-less prospect over the weekend. The boys (very few of them are actually boys) can’t seem to gather heart for practice either.

About a couple of hours ago all that changed when I got a call from another friend who is arranging an office tournament. He asked me if I wanted to play. I don’t think he needed to ask. The answer was obvious but apparently he didn’t have any idea about how cricket mad I’ve become – or maybe he did.

The long and short of it is that I’ll be playing a T20 match tomorrow.

Once I was comfortable in the knowledge that I’d be playing, I reflected upon why I was asked to play. Could it be because I’m that good a player? Or could it be because my friend, out of loyalty to me, was providing me an opportunity to indulge my passion? Maybe a bit of both.

Then it really hit me – not literally – that I’d been picked mainly because I’m the chief custodian of our team’s cricket kit (bats, pads, boxes and gloves).

CRASH! Down came my ego, just like the mouse that ran up the clock.

The feeling lasted for a few minutes only, i.e., until I got a call from our team’s wicket keeper, who incidentally is also my younger brother, informing me that he too had been asked to play in the match. He had been picked because he had a wicket keeper’s kit!

On further reflection I decided that whatever the reason for my being picked was I was fine with it. All I really wanted to do was play. So, it turned out to be a win-win situation. I would get to play and they would get to use the kit. I’m happy and can easily live with it. Why this unburdened a conscience despite having cheated our team of its kit? I’ll explain.

It’s because I’m a ‘sifarishi’ ? That’s Urdu for one who uses his or her connections to get an unfair advantage or gain – the beneficiary of nepotism, so to speak. Ever since I was a little kid I’ve been the beneficiary of my connections. If you doubt what I’m saying I’ll tell you the story.

When I was 4 years old I was rejected for admission to kindergarten because I lacked a basic grasp of concepts, which were required for admission, and additionally had behaved in a sullen and unresponsive manner during my interview – the school mistress simply didn’t feel that I would fit in.

What turned their decision in my favour was the fact that a relative of mine intervened on my behalf to get me an admission. It was my older brother, all of 6 and half years old, who interceded on my behalf. It turned out that the school had a policy of giving priority, at the time of admission, to siblings of already enrolled students – thus my brother was instrumental in getting me enrolled simply by virtue of being a student.

I love Mrs. Shuja, the head mistress, for having given me the admission. I also love my brother for having had such a huge influence on my academic career for without his efforts I may have remained one of the many hundreds of millions of illiterate Pakistanis.

In the same way, I love my friend for having picked me and I also love our cricket kit because it got me picked. Otherwise I may have remained one of the billions of less privileged people of the world who won’t be playing cricket on Saturday.