An Everlasting Over
“Yar jaani bhai ko apnay saath nahi rakho gay?”
“Yar tum to mujhay rakh hi lo gay”
“Teray hotay huay mujhay kaheen aur jaanay ki zaroorat?”
If you are someone who has tasted power and had the authority to select the people you would work along with, I am pretty sure you may have come across peers, friends and even relatives emotionally blackmailing you to pick them. Indirectly forcing you to select them over others who may be more qualified and even hardworking. Given such dilemmas, most feel overburdened with the excessive pressure, therefore do select them over the other candidates. Eventually, they mostly end up regretting their decisions as the incompetent, lazy, favored person not only take undue advantages with their close ties but also turn out to be the most inefficient worker, increasing your workload. While many learn their lesson not to induct people based on personal relations after getting a reality check at work or university group projects, I had learned this crucial lesson during my juvenile years in middle school.
When you eagerly want something to arrive, the universe makes sure that time slows down, eventually forcing you into a state of desperation, whether it’s the final minute before Iftari or even the last ten minutes of your Urdu class which is to be followed by the most sought-out “Physical Education” period. With every passing minute, the eagerness of the students to jump off their seats, race towards the ground, and begin playing cricket substantially increases. Accustomed to the regular threats of the Urdu teacher “Class main kaam poora na hua to main games ka period lay loon gi”, the two groups in the class were having their ‘Team Talk’ before the match, discussing tactics and potential lineups.
Fahar: Humain Zayd ko rakh lena chahiye. Saath main Ahmed Khawar, Aniq aur Ammar Akhlaq.
Me: Ammar? Ussay to bat bhi nahi uthana aata
Zayd: Rakh lay yar dost hay. Momin nay to waisay hi Mujtaba aur Fahad Hanif ko lena hay.
Me: Theek hay lekin toss jeet kar batting warna time khatam ho jana hay jab apni batting aani hay
We were in the middle of this conversation when the school bell rang, giving us the green signal to grab the class bat (yes we pooled money to buy one for our class) and scamper across the school, every man for himself, to the ground. While Asharib went to grab a ball and wickets from the sports room, Momin and I gathered all the players for the toss and team selection. While we pretended that it was an ‘on the spot selection’ with complete transparency, the fact remained that in middle school, we selected people based on personal closeness with friends. Currently, this fact made me realize that the pictures taken during that age aren’t the only thing you want to forget. The goal of team selection was to gather everyone based on “loyalty” rather than “skills”. You could reject even Chris Gayle himself, if he wasn’t considered a friend. If you end up with a player from the ‘not-loyal’ group, the poor lad would waste forty minutes fielding and would be the last man to bat even if he was a part of the school cricket team.
After gathering all of our friends in the team, I proceeded with the toss where Momin called “Heads” after we flipped the bat. Much to our surprise, it turned out to be “Tails” and as planned before, we decided to bat. The thing about newly-turned teenagers is that they consider themselves to be the hero in every possible story. Therefore in the discussion regarding my fellow opener, numerous people started to recall all their magnificent innings, giving the impression that they were not less than Mathew Hayden or even Adam Gilchrist. Ignoring all these fables, I picked Fahar as my partner, proceeding to the Striker’s End to take guard.
Our very own “MCG” was literally one of the smallest cricket grounds, a pathway between two buildings, floor covered with tough tiles, and the glass windows on each side of the building forcing us to restrain from using excessive force for most of our shots. You either had to play dead-straight over the bowler’s head to smash a six or improvise with unorthodox shots, over the keeper’s head to capitalize on the boundary behind the keeper. With little cloud cover and sun showering the whole pitch with its radiant light, it was an ideal condition to bat.
“Aaj Momin ko roona paray ga”, whispered Fahar while walking towards the non-Striker’s end. The four-over inning was to begin with the fast-bowling of Momin Ayaz, a bowler who was well renowned as one of the best players of the class. After bearing his trash-talk for more than a week after he narrowly won the last match, I was itching to have a go at him, igniting the inner-Saeed Anwar inside me. The bowler began his run-up, approaching the crease with a smooth rhythm, releasing the ball to pitch a short one, directed on my face. I wasn’t expecting it at all, shrugged it on the leg side, just a couple of feet away from the wicket, to steal a single. With the first run registered, I speculated an ideal target of thirty-runs for the opposition to chase. With the instructions I gave to Fahar before the match, I was fairly confident that Momin would not prove to be an issue for Fahar.
Let me give you a pro tip. You may give tips to your friend about how to not panic in a paper, approach their crush, or even lay a blueprint for how to play against a specific player but when they face the situation by themselves, they will forget every single thing you told them and do the most stupid act possible. While Fahar was instructed to just defend with a straight bat and look for an odd single, he decided to show why Shahid Afridi has the record for most ducks in cricket. With a massive heave, Fahar left a gigantic gap between the bat and his leg with Momin obliging with his first wicket as the bails went flying after the ball smashed onto the wicket.
With Fahar bowled, it was time for Zayd, the one who was boosting about how he single-handedly won a match in his house yesterday, to come out and bat. Frankly speaking, even he was a pathetic player but he got promoted up the order as he was a great friend of mine. Motivated with the wicket on the previous ball, Momin was determined to carry on the momentum with another wicket. The right-handed seamer charged in to bowl, around the wicket, bowling one of the most accurate yorkers, leaving Zayd red-faced as even his leg stump was dislodged on the first ball. The best part in this tale was the fight that followed mainly on the persistence of Zayd that “first ball to try ball hoti hay”. I miss the middle school pettiness! It somehow makes you remember that you once were ‘that stupid’ and got over that phase. Anyways, after a drama of nearly five minutes, we managed to force Zayd off the field, intentionally staring at Momin to make him feel guilty, reducing his confidence.
However, the bitter truth was that Momin wasn’t responsible for our fall. We ourselves were. With our next batsman, Aniq, facing a hat-trick ball, I made sure Aniq was prepared to save us from potentially getting mocked for the whole year with Momin narrating his hat-trick at every possible occasion to scrub salt on our wounds. “Just defend this ball, aur hamari izzat bacha lo Aniq warna bohat bezati honi hay”, were the last words I said before running across to my end, waiting for the bowler to bowl the forth ball of an excessively dramatic over. Till this very day, I have massive respect for Aniq as he managed to prevent a hat-trick by blocking the ball on the front foot, presenting the full face of the bat to prevent it from hitting the woodwork behind him. However, he proved that he was a typical Pakistani, following the steps of those who went before him as he unnecessarily ran out of his crease, stricken with panic at the prospect of facing another ball of the over. Before I could even make sense of his decision to run or force him to go back, Momin lashed onto the ball, casually lying in between the two ends of the wicket, threw a blistering throw towards Asharib who didn’t fumble to complete the third dismissal of the over. If you have seen the reaction of the Pakistani fan standing behind Asif Ali when he dropped the catch in World Cup 2019, it wouldn’t be too hard for you to imagine how I reacted to this brainless decision making.
Realizing that maybe the team is letting stress get the better of them, I approached the next batsman coming out to bat. “Sab kuch bhul jao jo hua Khawar. Bus apni natural game khelo. Yeh Momin hay BC Brett Lee nahi. Chaka maarna hay to beshak maar lo. Tip karna hay to wo hi kar lo beshak”, were the words I shared with my fellow batsman. I shouldn’t complain about what happened next as it was me who suggested this. Ahmed Khawar mishit a lofted straight-drive which turned into one of the simplest “caught & bowl” for Momin. Blissful, Momin come straight to me and shouted “Gilaniii Gilanniiiii Gilanniiiiiiii” to taunt me for the miserable state of our team.
So we were left with our last man who was none other than Ammar Akhlaq, smiling with all his 28 shiny teeth at the opportunity to bat for more than three overs. So our fate depended on the person whom I had refused to keep as he was a joke on the pitch. However, being friends with him forced me to select him.
Me: Yar Ammar……..
Ammar: Jaani Ez Scene. Tension nahi leni. Main hoon na? Bus agla over tumhara
Me: Ammar sun to sahi…..
Ammar: Jaani bus karo yar
So I was asked to take it easy as he got it under his control. His gleaming confidence did give me hope that maybe it was his day. Day to prove that maybe we were wrong to judge him and demote him to the lowest point in the batting order. For a moment I felt guilty for being so harsh on him. While all the other batsmen lacked confidence, pressure taking a toll on them, he was willing to face an in-form Momin as if he’s Ricky Ponting batting at 200* maybe? Nevertheless, realizing that the situation was too intense, I decided not to watch this ball, with my body facing the straight boundary rather than the batsman. Ammar was ready, Momin was steaming in with his iron-will…………………
“Agla match shuru karain ya yeh khelna hay”, asked Momin with a sly smile on his face.
Soooooooooooo the person who tried to comfort my rising nervousness with a smile and aspiring confidence showed that you need more than just confidence to excel at something as he failed to survive the last ball of Momin’s over. While this match gifted us with extreme humiliation, becoming a popular topic in the banter sessions, the fact is that in the long-run, it proved to be a life-changing over. Previously, I was more focused on establishing a team full of people I enjoyed being with but this proved that to be successful, you can’t act on your own accompanied with incompetent people. Although I was the most prolific cricketer of the class, I was stuck on the other end as wickets fell like dominos. For a team to function properly, you need more than just your ability. Support from your subordinates is pivotal who need to be equally capable. From that day onwards, the perspective of my thinking significantly changed as I welcomed the chance to work alongside people I may not enjoy sitting with, but knew that they were the best in what they do. By the time I was old enough to be one of the most prominent members of our school team, we placed our differences aside and formed the most successful cricket team in the history of LGS PARAGON. Going into University, the same attitude was needed to manage the Registrations Department of Spades. While I had reservations with one of the Directors of my department, we slowly got over our differences, formed a bond of mutual respect and cooperation, leading to the flourishment of the department as a whole.
Till our next cricket match Mohammad Momin Ayaz!
