Hollow feeling after a year of cricketing greatness

Even if an Ashes classic is forthcoming, it’s a sad probability that in cricket history, 2010 will be remembered more for the spectre of match-fixing than the matches played within it. Sad because there has been so much this year at which to marvel.

There was Sachin Tendulkar scoring the first ever double century in one day internationals. There were VVS Laxman’s various second-innings heroics – the classic in Mohali, and his hundred in Colombo.

There was Tamim Iqbal’s adrenaline-fuelled emergence, crashing twin centuries at Lord’s and The Oval, and Mohammad Amir crashing through batsman’s defences at will.

There was Bangladesh’s breakthrough 4-0 whitewash of New Zealand in an ODI series, and NZ’s immediate Test fightback against India on the No. 1 side’s home soil.

There was Afghanistan’s fairytale run to the World Twenty20 finals, and England finally putting aside their choker tag when the stakes were high.

In the wee small hours of a sweaty Argentinian summer night, half a world away from the SCG, I lay awake by lamplight listening on the radio to Australia’s final-day miracle against Pakistan in Sydney.

Of course, by now the miracle looks more like the work of snake-oil salesmen.

And in recent weeks was the Pakistan-South Africa series in the United Arab Emirates. While clearly less important than Zulqarnain Haider’s terrible dilemma, detailed here, it was nonetheless sad to see an otherwise brilliant series compromised.

The five-match slug-out had the potential to be viewed as an all-time classic. Now it will exist more as the stage-set in which an unfortunate drama was played out.

With all the bleating about The Death of One-Day Cricket (second only to The Death of the Test Match in the famous cricket writer’s manual Oh Bugger I Can’t Think of an Idea) a bunch of players seemed determined to make those scribes dine out on their own words, perhaps with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.

On our shores, Lasith Malinga and Angelo Mathews were pulling off a grand heist at the MCG. They put on a world-record partnership of 132 for the ninth wicket to carry their team to the brink of victory, before the unlikely figure of Muttiah Muralitharan finished it off.

Meanwhile, in the blazing desert heat of the UAE, South Africa and Pakistan were squaring off in what was to become an epic tussle.

Hashim Amla, so long regarded as too slow and conservative to play one-dayers, scored 35, 65, 119 not out, 10, and 62. The one failure featured his lowest strike rate of 83. The century came at 95, and the other innings ranged from 104 to 132.

Shoaib Akhtar was his old self back in the limelight: fast, wheezing, jubilant, erratic. He often coaxed venom out of a dead pitch, and was taken for runs when he didn’t. He was carted by Amla and JP Duminy in the fifth match as only Shoaib can be, but bowled a brilliant set of ten in the third fixture.

Younis Khan scored a couple of half-centuries that gave some promise of more Pakistani batting stability in future, and Shahid Afridi had a few not-quite-half-centuries that didn’t. Duminy and AB de Villiers found form for South Africa.
Lonwabo Tsotsobe, so often spoken of in terms of potential, had something of a breakthrough with 4/27 from ten overs in the first match, and Morne Morkel was dangerous throughout.

When the Proteas rolled the Pakistanis first up, the pre-series pessimism of a mismatch seemed justified.

But in the second match the series really came alive, when Abdul Razzaq pulled off a Great Escape that made the Sri Lankans’ effort look like two boys digging a sandcastle.

At 5/136 when he came to the crease, Pakistan needed 151 from 124 balls. Razzaq played the bowling circumspectly, played out a lot of dot balls, and tried to get himself in. He also casually hit the occasional six to try and keep the required run rate down.

By the time partner Fawad Alam was out for 48, Razzaq had played a lot of dots, put four balls over the rope, and scored 45 from 39. They now needed 70 from 49, at about 8.5 an over. He then watched Haider run himself out, and Wahab Riaz swish at fresh air, as a couple of tight overs were bowled.

53 from 24, needing 13.25 an over, three wickets in hand. No problem. He creamed three sixes and a two from Charl Langeveldt’s next over to wipe 20 off the deficit.

Problem: he then saw Riaz and Saeed Ajmal run out within five balls. Nine wickets down, 31 to get, 15 balls left.

Again, no sweat.

A four from Albie Morkel, a six and a four from the unfortunate Langeveldt. Then some careful farming of the strike to have Shoaib face just one delivery. Fourteen needed from the last over. At which point Razzaq hit his ninth and tenth sixes of the innings, then his seventh boundary to finish it off.

109 not out from 72 balls, with one wicket and one ball to spare, and in terms of pacing, management, and sheer determination, of the greatest one-day innings ever played.

The adrenaline had barely faded when the third match brought it up again, this time with Fawad playing a far more subdued incarnation of Razzaq. He calmly steered Pakistan from apparent collapse to within grasp of victory, also with Shoaib for company, before some tight death bowling left them stranded three runs short.

And the fourth?

Well, a one-wicket win, of course, with Haider grimly trying to keep the car on the road while Riaz hung out the window blasting a shotgun at letterboxes. Shoaib was once more there at the last as Haider brought them home.

Three matches, each ending nine wickets down, each ending with a maximum of one ball to spare. Three classics, setting up a 2-2 scoreline. How sad that a series like this could have its finale tampered with by money-grubbers.

With Haider’s pre-match disappearance providing all the headlines, the final fixture was the definition of an anti-climax. And with Haider telling us that fixers wanted the match lost, it was no surprise to see exactly that transpire.

Aside from Haider, you had to feel for Razzaq. Any man who can play with that much passion and belief in the face of defeat deserves the full support of his teammates. Whether he got it is a very different question.

Fortunately there was no great Pakistani collapse chasing a small total, no rash of dropped catches in the field. There was just conceding a 300-plus score, and falling short in reply. It could have been legit. At least it didn’t look terrible. But the doubt was there – the curse of this particular scam.

And so it ended, the whimper after the bang. Despite the fireworks and adrenaline of the preceding week, with Haider’s testimony now on the record, it must seem a hollow result for South African and Pakistani fans alike.

Hopefully the Ashes can live up to recent heights, and help cricket fans start to feel good again. Until then, 2010 is feeling a bit hollow for all of us.