Pakistan faces the heat against in-form Proteas

CHENNAI: There was nothing novel about this picture. We’ve been there, seen it and experienced the whole gamut of emotions it has to offer several times before. The number of times we have seen it, and the cast, may vary but the point of convergence has remained immune to change. Despite a multitude of eras being consigned to history, and the emergence of a steady stream of precocious talent, the tag of unpredictability that Pakistan cricket team has acquired over the decades has stood the test of time.

And somewhere along this journey of monotony, we have grown weary of the Pakistan team taking us on this roller-coaster ride far too many times that we no longer feel amazed or appalled by the ebbs and flows or the highs and lows that are inextricably linked with its distinctive brand of cricket. Here we are reminded of the adage, “Familiarity breeds contempt”, and in Pakistan’s case its unpredictability has become so familiar that it does breed contempt and not awe. Maybe we should blame ourselves for expecting novelty whenever Pakistan takes to the field. It’s high time it realised that being predictably unpredictable won’t help it garner praise but will fetch a torrent of brickbats.

And that unpredictability reared its all-too-familiar ugly head yet again, by force of habit, on Monday, turning Pakistan’s hitherto happy hunting ground into a graveyard with dreams and hopes dying a gory death. And when the end, hastened by a spirited Afghanistan, came about, it didn’t make you grieve. Instead, it made you cringe for there was no rage against the dying of the light.

In fact, there was no rage to be spotted even when the light was blinding in the scorching afternoon sun. Indeed, a copious amount of light was available for Pakistan, when it batted, to tap into, but it chose to embrace darkness. And when the dazzling light gently and eventually made its way for what ended up being a nightmarish evening for Pakistan, its performance got even worse, coming down by several notches.

What panned out was an abject surrender, the kind that even a renowned clairvoyant, inured to the team’s mercurial ways, wouldn’t have seen coming. So meek was it that it made one wonder whether the Babar Azam-led side took to the field, in the second-half of the innings, with not just a pair of white balls, but 11 sets of white flags to boot, ready to wave them at their ruthless adversary in the hope of ignominy being spared.

It was a classic case of the hunter becoming the hunted with Pakistan suffering its maiden ODI defeat to Afghanistan at the eighth time of asking. It’s not so much about the swallowing of pride that would hurt it big time as the timing of defeat that nudged it even closer to the exit door and one that will continue to rankle for a long time.

That this catastrophic defeat came at a venue where it had a wellspring of fond memories to reminisce about will have only exacerbated the heartache.

In reality, Pakistan should’ve seen this coming, for Afghanistan has been giving it a run for its money on the last few occasions they played against each other.

No sooner had it caused an upset of epic proportions than the winning team went on a victory lap around the ground and the knowledgeable Chennai crowd, in keeping with its own time-honoured etiquette, gave them a rather prolonged standing ovation but, unlike in 1999, the recipients were not the Men in Green. It was intended for the Men in Blue of a slightly different shade.