Misbah-ul-Haq half-kneels on the field
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Editorial

A captain like no other

Selfless, brave, humble, but also infuriatingly complex: Misbah-ul-Haq offers joys and contradictions in equal measure

Osman Samiuddin  |  

In the 14th over of Australia's innings, as Shahid Afridi came on to bowl, Misbah-ul-Haq undertook one last act that can be said to embody his ODI captaincy. Pakistan were putting some serious heat on the hosts in their World Cup quarter-final in Adelaide. Afridi had been poor with the ball all tournament but as he got ready, there was a sense he could yet help Pakistan pull off something sensational.

Through the tournament Misbah had batted like Misbah, in constipated style, but captained as if on laxatives; like a latter-day Ian Chappell, he was overseeing but barely restraining a pack of hungry fast bowlers. Now, as he and Afridi set the field for Shane Watson, with a slip already in place, they decided on a short leg. Out came the helmet and, as per cricket's norm, it went to one of the younger guys.

Except Sohaib Maqsood indicated a general unwillingness to field there. Nobody else, young or old, seemed especially keen, so with a barely discernible shake of the head, Misbah took it upon himself. In what would turn out to be his last ODI, the captain of Pakistan, fielding at short leg? The only thing more remarkable would be if he dropped himself from the XI, which, incidentally, he did a few months ago in another ODI against Australia.

It was a selfless and brave act from a selfless and brave man, a heroic act. As with his batting, everyone around him had failed and so he chose to take on the responsibility. But as with every move Misbah made, it wasn't quite as simple as that. Even this decision had the infuriating duality of his batting, career and captaincy.

It emerged that the helmet was too small for Maqsood and he did, in later overs, eventually field there. But why did no other younger player offer to field in his stead, especially just for an over? In that less sparkling light, the scene felt equally illustrative. Misbah has led Pakistan and led them well, but has he inspired players, especially the younger ones? Has he transformed them? Has he been a captain they looked up to, drew strength from or were ready to lay down their bodies in front of?

Misbah has led Pakistan and led them well, but has he inspired players, especially the younger ones? Has he transformed them?

He has been more secure than any captain in Pakistan history, an equal in that sense of Imran Khan and Abdul Hafeez Kardar. That, and his own humility, is what enabled him to drop himself from an ODI. But he has been curiously unwilling - or unable - to exercise the kind of power and influence that come with that status. Imagine a younger player refusing, even briefly, Inzamam-ul-Haq, Wasim Akram, Javed Miandad, or even Waqar Younis, let alone Imran or Kardar - it's impossible.

Unexpectedly Misbah has become one of Pakistan's most fascinating characters - and competition is tough. Considerable light is shed in this issue of the Cricket Monthly on how this came to be, in an expansive and probing profile of Misbah the man, the captain and the batsman by Hassan Cheema. In Lahore, Cheema finds Misbah in an unusually frank mood - keep an eye out for, in particular, some zingers at the board that employs him, and at the cricket-watching public of Pakistan. Truly, he has been unique.

A Misbah profile feels right in place in what could be our most eclectic issue yet. As complex as the story of Misbah is, it has nothing on that of cricket in the Kashmir Valley, where often it is not a game as much as it is a conflict between individual ambition and collective loyalty. The unsteady fortunes of their domestic side and the rise of Parvez Rasool has been an intriguing modern story in Indian cricket, far more compelling than the headline-making politicking and corruption of the BCCI. Sharda Ugra tells it with a lightness and warmth that belies its thorniness.

A personal favourite is this month's Jury's Out on cricket's most significant number, which combines adeptly the sport's two great loves - for good writing and for statistics. But there is, ultimately, something for all tastes: a little papare music from Sri Lanka, the struggle for a museum in South Africa, some heated debate on the Indian Premier League, and last but never least, a freewheeling chat about the fast bowling life with Shoaib Akhtar, a man who polarises opinion almost as much as Misbah does.

Osman Samiuddin is a sportswriter at the National and the author of The Unquiet Ones: A History of Pakistan Cricket