SouLBW

Relfections on Umar Akmal

One mild winter evening in Lahore, on a dirt walk-way before a two-story shopping plaza—as fluorescent tube lights muscled the dying sun, and traffic settled into rhythmic monotones—a stick of sugar cane found itself being gnawed on by Umar Akmal. Slackening his jaw, tilting his head, Umar hitched the blunt end of the stick on his lower canines. Then, the incisors descended—like the drum beat of industry, they scraped bits of cane-bark from the base. Dribbles of sweetness splashed onto the epileptic tongue.  Bruised, but still whole, the cane felt itself being turned around, its wounds stinging from the rushing air. Respite there was none. From the other end, the assault was relentless—shards were ripped off the side and spit into the dirt; teeth and more teeth cut and pulled, gnashed and tore. The violence was directionless, an orchestra of pain. The cane was losing juice and losing it fast, a few more seconds and…

A final blow—it was over.

Night fell on the sugar cane. Now, discarded, dirt encrusted, a flickering tube light administering its last rights, the sugar cane lay unmolested. A warm breeze skimmed its fractured surface.

As the Earth fades, and the ghosts of Lahore descend, an image flashes before the sugar cane: The Teeth. The horror, the horror.

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE

Really guys? Did you really have to piss him off again? was it really necessary? DOES A SENATOR IN THE NATIONAL FUCKING ASSEMBLY HAVE NOTHING FUCKING BETTER TO DO?!? IS HE A FOUR-YEAR-OLD CHILD?!!!???!

Though admittedly the same could be asked of Younis. I mean, c’mon man, suck it up. I’d call you a flake but I’m afraid you’ll go crying to your mommy.

RIGHT when we’d become a decent team. JUST when we’d found new talent. AS SOON AS we were about to embark on a morale-boosting romp through New Zealand that would have set us up nicely to be competitive against Australia.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK!

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

If Ijaz FUCKING Butt has half a brain, he won’t accept Younis’s resignation, will apologize to him, and publicly chastize the DUMBFUCK ASSHOLE politician who had a FUCKING SENATE HEARING about ONE loss. What the FUCK is wrong with these people?!

Younis. Don’t do this man. We know you’re a whiney little bitch great player and one of the best captain’s we’ve had in years. YOU know you’re a great player and one of the best captain’s we’ve had in years. We know that you know that we know you’re a great player and one of the best captain’s we’ve had in years. So stop fucking with us and come back. Please?

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF………….*&^@*!

———————————————————————————————————————-

Actually I wanted to end on a brighter note. There’s still a real possibility that the PCB board or whatever will refuse the resignation. In fact, I have a feeling Younis is betting on it. Which boils it down to a clash of egos. Which in turn is sympomatic OF THE LIMP DICKED FUCKWAD-NESS THAT PREVENTS THAT COUNTRY FROM DOING ANYTHING PRODUCTIVE WITH ITS TIME.

Sorry, I lied about the bright note.

Someone, somewhere, grows a pair.

This is good shit.

Someone has finally piped up about the proposed post-2012 FTC. And for my money, it’s a pretty relevant someone: FICA, the world players’ “lobbying” group.

The new FTP is anything but new—it’s the old one tweaked so that everyone but the ECB, BCCI, CA and CSA play less cricket. If the FTP is continually drawn up like this, Sri Lanka, West Indies, New Zealand, Pakistan (unless diplomatic relations with India thaw), not to mention Zimbabwe and Bangladesh, will be playing themselves in some sort of dickless B-league generating minuscule revenues and producing shitty cricket.

The Test Championship, which was shot down primarily by the BCCI, is a good idea because Test cricket is collapsing under the weight of its irrelevance (not to mention it’s boring as shit more often than not). Also, it would ensure equal opportunity for all teams to play, especially those increasingly marginalized by bilateral series arrangements. So there’s plenty at stake.

But, the way it was originally proposed, TV revenue would be shared; all boards would earn equally. And there lies the rub.

I mean, I guess it basically makes sense: why should the BCCI—cricket’s Oil & Gas Industry in terms of revenue, political clout, and all round sleaze—want to share it’s revenue? It generates the lion’s share of it, and shouldn’t be responsible for propping up fledgling, corrupt boards like WICB, or broke, boring boards like NZC. Also, the status quo works fine for them—they can schedule bi-later series with whomever they want, making as much they want.

Well, it’s good to see a power cricket stakeholder finally telling the BCCI to go fuck itself. And by “telling the BCCI to go fuck itself,” I mean appeasing the BCCI with a more graded revenue sharing formula. You know, whatever works.

Cricket Sucks. It Should Die.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we’re back!!!!

Well we actually never really left. See there was this time warp thing that brought us to this point in time right after we wrote our last post. So though it may seem to you that months have passed, for us it’s been just a few fleeting moments.

But the disadvantage of time travel is that a) you age much quicker and b) you miss out all the great cricket stuff! And you all know how we love great cricket stuff!!!!

So we’ve been parsing the cricinfo archives for all the cricket gaiety that we’d missed (get it? cause people who don’t like cricket think it’s gay. And by gay they mean the sinful gay).

Soooooooo…………….. England won the Ashes…. not bad, not bad…… Sri Lanka’s ranked the number 2 test team in the world…… not bad, not bad……. Banglandesh won something…… not bad, not bad….. Australia won 6 out of 7 ODI’s against England…… not bad, not, bad…….. India won a tri-series against New Zealand and Sri Lanka…………… not bad, not bad…….

Oh gosh dangit, look at all the fun we have missed. I guess we just time-warped passed all this great cricket stuff! And we love great cricket stuff!

No but seriously folks, cricket sucks. It should die.

This has been one of the crappiest cricket summers in a while. We honestly didn’t watch much of the Ashes, but it sounded pretty shitty. I mean, Flintoff wasn’t at full kilt, KP didn’t play, Harmison was half-ass—the most exciting player from England was Graem fucking Swann. Seriously folks, he’s an off-spinner. And unless you have a wrist-deformity and bulging, demonic eyes OR you invented the doosra, you’re really just a turd for making off-spin your primary means of income. And yet England won the Ashes: they won the most prestigious, elite contest the sport has to offer. That sucks.

And Sri Lanka at no. 2? What the hell’s that all about? Hell South Africa at no. 1? WTF, man! Don’t get me wrong, they’re both good sides. But seeing South Africia and the number 1 in the same line triggers my gag-reflex. And Sri Lanka just hasn’t done enough for that no. 2 position.

And how much does that whole West Indies thing suck? Between Gayle, Bravo, Edwards, Taylor, they’re the most fun side in world cricket. Plus now Bangladesh have a false sense of self-confidence, when they’re nothing but hip-hop fakers.

And India? Puhleasssee… you guys got your ass kicked in that first game against SL, AND New Zealand creamed you in the CT warm up. Vishal and Shaker if I ever saw them.

The only reason why cricket should remain alive is to showcase the Gold-like talent of Umer Akmal. And for Younis Khan’s political commentary (see above).

Hollow rants aside, we’re back and hope to be back to full capacity by the end of the week. India/Pakistan this weekend kids, and we’ll be Saturday Night Live blogging it for you guys right here on your favorite frivolous sports page, SouLBW.

The Shoaib Malik Conundrum

We’ve tried to like Malik, we’ve tried to highlight his strengths. But there’s no real way to get around his major shortcoming: the guy sucks.

Let’s take Malik the Test batsman. The man averages about 38 runs per innings. Now about a decade ago, that would be borderline decent. These days, with flat pitches and bigger bats every where you turn, it puts him in the esteemed company of Daniel Flynn, Malinda Warnapura, and Jacques Rudolph—cricket’s poster boys for mediocrity. What makes that average yet more unremarkable is that Malik has played all but one of his Test matches in the sub-continent or the West Indies, where, if you walk out without a bat, you’re guaranteed about 25 runs. That’s like signing up for jihad, blowing yourself up, finding yourself amongst 72 virgins, and getting laid just thrice for the rest of eternity. Also, a quick glance at the scorecards of his most successful innings reveal that Malik is a fair weather player—almost all his top scores have come when other players also got a shit ton of runs. Not to mention that his top scores include a whopping two centuries.

His one-day average isn’t resume material either: 35ish isn’t awful, but it’s certainly boosted by his six hundreds. And these hundreds have come against such bowling behemoths as the West Indies (in Sharjah), New Zealand (in Lahore), India (Colombo, Lahore, Karachi) and Hong Kong (wherever). (India hundreds should be partially discounted anyway because of the peculiar nature of Indo-Pak games). Plus his prominence in the one-day team only came about when, during Yousaf’s ICL misadventure, Pakistan’s middle order was a barren toxic wasteland of talent.

But these facts are symptomatic of a broader malaise: his technique. It’s not only cringe-inducingly hideous (no seriously, did anyone see his attempt at at pull shot in the last innings? ), it simply defies the basics of batting. Granted, Pakistani batsman aren’t known for their textbook techniques. But the Younis Khans or even the Abdul Razzaqs and Shahid Afridis of the world have at least conceptually have the right idea: transfer weight to back-foot when bowler’s in his stride, lean forward on front-foot to execute drive or forward defense; move body into line to execute back-foot shot. Shoaib Malik has found a way to actually shift his body weight away from the delivery when playing a shot: his body will often fall away as the bat comes in contact with the ball, which causes him to lose power, direction and clean contact. It’s pretty incredible if you think about it, and even more incredible if you actually try it (believe us, we have). So when facing a good bowling attack—which, a brief look at statsguru shows, he’s done little of—Malik simply won’t last. We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again: we refuse to accept that he’s one of the top six batsman in a nation of 170 million people.

But our real beef with Malik is a little more qualitative, aesthetic even: Malik today represents everything that one wants to forget about the last two years of Pakistan cricket: mediocre batting, useless bowling, and the excitement of an auditing job at Deloitte. He’s also the focal point a really dumb form of religio-Punjabiness in the team, first popularized—and marshaled most successfully—by Inzamam, and now continued through the likes of Malik, Akmal, Yousaf and Misbah. Inzy gave them a sense of purpose, but now they’re just a bunch of cliquey fundos of debatable value to the squad.

But such considerations aside, we here at SouLBW simply hate Shoaib Malik. Sitting on our beds well past mid-night watching him defy, even dominate the Sri Lankan bowling attack; build solid partnerships with Akmal, Misbah and Gul; lead Pakistan to what should have been a match-winning position; all we could think about was strangling him to death with that bit of helmet strap that dangles beneath his chin. Hell, when a Thushara bouncer slipped through his helmet and struck him on the brow, we prayed for the worst. But as further testament to the futility of prayer, he’s still alive, and will probably be selected through the one-day series, on to the Champion’s Trophy, then the New Zealand Tests, and finally and most painfully, for the tour of Australia. Like shit stains in a toilet bowl, Malik’s here to stay.

Is anyone still watching?

In retrospect, game 2 of the series was exciting cricket. It fluctuated wildly, there were comebacks, mini-battles, debutants, seaming new-balls, swinging old balls. We say ‘in retrospect,’ however, because watching Pakistan’s second innings collapse real-time was about as fun as having Alex Rodriguez use your head for hitting practice. A few recommendations for the team ahead of game 3:

1) Stick with Fawad at the top. The Sri Lankan were predominantly bowling away-swing to the left handers—there wasn’t much coming back into them (if anything, they were straight balls that held their line). One hasn’t seen much of Fawad, but isn’t it conceivable that his exaggerated shuffle is simply a way of dealing with the swing outside off-stump?  Fawad quickly figured out that Kulusekara and co. were targeting his pads as counter-attack, and simply made sure he didn’t miss anything straight. Taken as a whole, that innings of his was basically just good think. Plus, the boy’s got more steel than Superman’s junk.

2) Despite all appearances, keep Manzoor, at least for this Test. We make this recommendation not because Manzoor’s any good (Khurram Manzoor will never, ever, be a successful Test opener), but because of the way he supported Fawad. Watching their opening partnership on day 3 was one of those rare moments in international cricket when one could really relate to the players (when was the last time you could relate to Ricky Ponting playing a cover drive on the up against a 90mph+ bowler?). Manzoor was desperate, wide-eyed, and overly-chatty. He joked, he assured, he scolded. He knew he’s not really cut out for the task at hand, but he did his level best (I don’t know about you guys, that’s pretty much my cricket career in a nutshell). Him and Fawad—Karachi boys in a team dominated by Pathans and Punjabis—developed a comradery that they both fed off to keep their heads in the game. Because we have little skill at the top of the order, that intensity is clutch.

3) Switch Malik and Misbah. Misbah is just more of a lower-order kinda guy. And Shoaib Malik simply does better higher up. In fact, if it wasn’t for point 2, we would say he should open. Malik is also a less of a man-of-crisis, and a lot more of a… umm… eerr… well he’s not a man-of-crisis. Misbah, on the other hand—that’s all he really does.

4) Give Rauf the new ball. He’s an opening bowler in domestic cricket, and has taken heaps of wickets with the new cherry. He’ll get awkward bounce, he’ll get the ball to seam a bit, and he’ll make sure Sri Lanka don’t get off to a flier. He has shades of Asif in that sense. Who to replace? Well, Gullay of course. Gul does his best stuff with the old ball. His stock back-of-a-length stuff makes more sense with a ball that isn’t moving around much, and of course we all know his prowess with reverse-swing. Seems obvious.

5) Younis should figure out his rhetoric. One of my favorite hobbies has become listening to Younis speak, and then reading how journalists interpret what he says. But his English prowess notwithstanding, the focus of Younis Khan’s rhetoric drifts from short term results, to long term development. Ideally we’d have both; but given the circumstances, Younis should pick just one. At least then there’s a barometer for success. ‘Cause right now, it’s a real mind-fuck.

Sri Lanka aren’t an easy team to beat, and Pakistan’s given them a real run for their money. As soon as Pakistan figures out that a) the swinging new ball is a part of life and b) Test matches actually last for five days, they’ll be a handful themselves. Of course, another epic Younis/Yousaf partnership or two wouldn’t hurt the cause either.

So That was Fun.

The Ashes is well and truly under way.  Here’s our take on England.  (Oh, the Aussies, aside from Hussey (C) and Mitch (C+), all got A’s.)

England Report Card:

Strauss: Outbatted by Panesar, outcaptained by Ponting.  I know you luv to pop up that collah, dawg, but you bettah be worth that shite.  C

Cook: Outbatted by Anderson. Missed a straight full one from Mitch in the second innings; i.e., the pressure told on him. (Note: Does this guy ever do well against quality opposition?  Or against bowlers who bowl consistently in the corridor?)  C-

Bopara: Needs to prove Warne wrong (who questioned his big-match/big-series temperament some time ago).  Or maybe he needs to forget Warne.  I mean, I hope he didn’t walk out thinking “I’m gonna prove that no-good poker playing shitface legend wrong today.  I’m so fucking pumped!”  Jeez, is Warne STILL inside the head of English No. 3’s?  B-

Pietersen: Score a century (a big one), dammit, and leave us alone.  B

Colly: Yet again, the tenacious and who-needs-a-backlift-anyway ugly duckling saved the day.  In fact, the lack of a backlift saved his ass: he never met the ball too hard when the Hauritzer was on with five men and the keeper around the bat.  Because he couldn’t.  A

Prior: He has a rather oval face, doesn’t he?  What can I say?  Decent game behind the stumps.  Nice cameo in the first innings.  Tried to force the pace in the second.  Not really a cricketer made for cricket writers.  B

Flintoff: Not many runs, just the one wicket.  There is a theory doing the rounds that England are better off without him, so his injury might not be the worst thing in the world.  Great presence though with his unflagging bowling, and if he’s injured for a seamer-friendly Lords surface, England will miss him.  B-

Anderson: If Hilfy could swing it, then Anderson should’ve too.  Great batting from the man who holds the world record for most consecutive innings without a duck.  B

Broad: Didn’t know whether to attack or defend as a bowler.  Ended up doing neither.  Aside from one cross-seamed bouncer that got rid of Clarke (I could bowl that), didn’t do much else.  Out-shouldered by Siddle.  Declared today, “I’m not scared of Siddle.”  What a liar.  Imagine them in a bar. C-

Swann: I like Swann.  But he didn’t bowl well enough.  Breezy batting though that every test match requires.  B

Panesar: I don’t like Panesar.  But he did bowl well.  Dogged batting though that every test match requires.  B+

We look forward to Thursday.

Embrace the Rainbow

There is a rare, exclusive pleasure in being a Pakistan cricket fan. It is a pleasure few can share, and almost none can experience so often. It is a sharp, distinct, almost teary-eyed pleasure one can imagine would only be comparable to a man being raped, waking up from shock the next day, walking over to the home of his assaulter, finding them in their sleep, placing their balls on splintering wooden chopping board, and, with a 20 pound cleaver, dismembering their testicles.

Most recently, the above allegory starred the rapist Sri Lanka, and ball-chopper Pakistan. Pakistan was butt-fucked on the first day in Colombo, as a precession of batsman ceremoniously dropped their pants to reveal the “insert here” arrow sharpie’d onto their lower back. Shoaib Malik resisted, but even he couldn’t stop the rampant butt-fuck orgy taking place around him. It really, really hurt to be a Pakistan cricket fan two nights ago—the pain was deep.

But when all was thought lost, when we decided we’d just watch the first session to see how badly butt-bashed Pakistan could get, something happened, the Pakistanis found their cleaver, they were afraid no more. How about that ball to get rid of Sangakarra? By Christ and heaven that’s as close to divinity we’re ever getting ladies and gentlemen. The gods above offered us their pity, and in one fell swoop, Pakistan put their pants back on, turned around, and gave Sri Lanka tight bitch-slap. You go girlfriend.

But seriously folks, Younis Khan has the remarkable ability of instilling purpose into the team. What’s more, he picks the right time to do it. Purpose is a finite resource, and because we’re not a terribly talented side, Younis has to carefully time its deployment to coincide with its requirement. We saw him do it briefly in the Emirates, and we saw him do it at the Wolrd Cup. God knows what he said to the boys between the end of the first day and the start of the second, but the anecdote chronicled in this Sidharth Monga piece offers an idea of his wierdly intimate methods (“You.nis told Fawad he had something for him in the dressing room…”)

Whatever the outcome of the game, one thing is clear: Pakistan seems to be recongizing its limitations, its starting to figure out who it really is. We’re not a solid, consistent unit; we will never have a stable dependable batting line-up; we will never bowl ten overs of choking line and length. In short, we will never be the muscular, square-jawed alpha-male of a cricket team that Australia was, and India aspires to be. Younis knows this, and embraces it. We’re here, and we’re queer, and girlfriend you DID NOT just touch my hieny.

Notes on The Ashes

Dear Reader,

One-half of SouLBW is awake in the mountains to the sounds of the Ashes.  Good stuff yesterday, not so much today.  And as I write, the Aussies stand at 220 for 1 with the Krab looking even crabbier, and Captain-sahib well on his way to a mandatory Ashes century.  Here are our thoughts (in no particular order):

1. So a solid start by England yesterday, with the whole appearing greater than the sum of its parts.  But the more I see the Krab scuttling across the crease and dead-batting Anderson’s offerings, 500 seems par for the course.
2. The Krab is playing so much straighter.  Wouldn’t it be just lovely to watch him and Chanderpaul bat for hours at end?
3. Philip (he insists on NOT being called Phil) is an alien.  His technique looks jacked (I can’t recall a more fidgety batsman at the crease), he’s even uglier than the Krab when he leaves/deals with short deliveries aimed at his head/neck/chest, but this country+Abercrombie boy can bat for sure.  One glorious cut shot was orgasmic (orgasmic |ôrˈgazmik|adjective: of or relating to orgasm.  • (of a person) able to achieve orgasm.  • informal figurative: very enjoyable or exciting).
4. The more I see him, the more I like Swanny.  Sings?  Check.  Plays the acoustic guitar?  Check.  Does both better than Brett Lee AND is not injured?  Check.  Hit a brilliant cameo (47 n.o.) yesterday.  Bowling better than Monty today.  I’d prefer running into him than Siddle in a bar.
5. Speaking of Siddle: Siddle+Johnson+Hilfy+Hauritz gave away more looseners and loose balls in one day than McGrath did in his entire Ashes career.  I don’t have the stats, but I’m sure of it.
6. Hauritz can’t even be mentioned in the same sentence as Warne.  But to be fair to him, nor can a whole lot of other tweakers.
7. Ten Sports et al should take a leaf out of Sky Sports’ coverage and production values.  Clean, understated, calm; in a word, classy.  Watching the recent India-WI series was a pain in the arse.  The MC dudes were loud, knew zilch about cricket, and the entire production was a tactless affair.  Whatever happened to the aesthetics of sports broadcasting?  Oh, and Anil Kumble is boring.  As fuck.
8. Nass and Athers are the future of commentating.  Frank and forthright, here are two dudes who’ve made the leap from cricketers to commentators (Botham still hasn’t), and more significantly, two dudes who are compatible.
9. There seem to be no customary hot-girls-in-stands watching the cricket in Cardiff.  Only a gay cameramen who kept panning on a David Gower impersonator (who wasn’t half-as-pretty as the real thing).
10. A four-match India vs. WI ODI series is not the shite.  The Ashes is the shite.
11. That’s the way Pietersen will bat.  I don’t agree with this analysis, but it’s more right than wrong (i.e., there is method in the Pietersen madness).
12. The Krab just scored his hundred.  So has Punter.  Goodnight England.