Top of the World

Javed Miandad’s autobiography Cutting Edge was released in Karachi earlier this year. Already in its fifth impression, the book has been welcomed throughout the cricket world, especially in Pakistan,

India and the UK. Wisden Asia Cricket magazine called it “enthralling” and the London-based Wisden Cricketer said it was “comprehensive” and “rarely dull.” Hindustan Times said the book was a “must-read,” and Karachi-based DAWN termed it “outspoken.” Chowk has arranged to serialize two chapters from Cutting Edge at weekly intervals.

The book is available at leading bookstores in Pakistan as well as through internet retailers such as amazon.co.uk and desistore.com. A limited number of signed copies are also available through sportsbooksdirect.co.uk.



CHAPTER 16

Top of the World

The pain of failing in the 1987 World Cup faded away, and we started looking ahead to the next World Cup, scheduled for early 1992, to be played in Australia and New Zealand. In the years building up to that tournament, the Pakistan team went through a period of mixed fortunes.

The 1988-89 season had ended with the 2nd Test against New Zealand at Auckland, in which I had made 271. We started in 1989-90 by winning the Champions Trophy in Sharjah featuring India, West Indies and ourselves. After that we lifted the Nehru Cup in India in a limited-overs tournament involving all the Test-playing nations except New Zealand. In November-December of 1989, we hosted India for a dull series of four drawn Tests. In the 3rd Test of that series, at Lahore, I made 145 and shared a 246 4th-wicket partnership with Shoaib Mohammad, who got a double-hundred. To end the season, we went to Australia for 3 Tests and the Benson and Hedges Triangular but didn’t do well, losing the Test series 0-1 and losing to Australia in the finals of the Triangular.

In 1990-91, we played just two Test series, both at home. We completed a 3-0 whitewash against New Zealand under my captaincy and then drew 1-1 a 3-Test series against West Indies.

The World Cup was the following season, in 1991-92. We began that season at home, winning a 3-Test series against Sri Lanka by a 1-0 margin. After that, all eyes were on Australia and New Zealand.

The World Cup title has become the biggest prize in international cricket. If you win it, you’re at the top, and it doesn’t get any better than that. Take it from a member of Pakistan’s victorious 1992 World Cup team: being on top of the world is a very special feeling.

A great deal is at stake, but the World Cup isn’t something you can prepare for easily. In one-day cricket, you have to take things one day at a time. If you do well today, it improves your chances of doing well tomorrow. You still have to go day by day, step by step. To my way of thinking, this is the recipe for World Cup preparations, because winning the World Cup ultimately depends on how well your team comes together on the day. In a high-stakes limited-overs game, all the planning and preparation can come unstuck if the other team is having a better day than you are. Indeed, a good deal of the outcome of the cricket World Cup comes down to luck. This is why the cricket World Cup has a well-earned reputation for being the graveyard for predictions. Except for 1979 and 2003, when the West Indies retained the title they had taken in 1975, the pre-tournament favorites have never won the championship.

Pakistan cricket is never dull, and even before we had left the country, our World Cup campaign had caused some excitement. By this time in my career I had represented Pakistan in 112 Tests with a record that I, for one, felt proud of, and had come to think of myself as more or less an automatic selection for the Pakistan team. However, when the Pakistan Cricket Board announced the World Cup tournament squad, my name wasn’t in it. It was a shock to most of the cricket-following public in Pakistan. It should have been a shock to me, too, but I had been around long enough and nothing surprised me anymore.

In the Test series against Sri Lanka that preceded the 1992 World Cup, Imran had suggested changing my position in the batting order. In the 1st Test at Sialkot he sent me in at no. 5, after Saleem Malik had come in at no.4. I wasn’t happy about this. I had been a career no.4 batsman and made clear to Imran I had no intention of batting at any other spot. But Imran – never an easy man to dissuade – insisted I be tried at no. 3 or no. 5 or 6. In the 2nd innings of the 3rd Test at Faisalabad, he sent me in at no. 3, with Saleem Malik again coming in at no.4.

These discussions about my batting position continued into our World Cup training sessions. Imran’s argument was that I was too ‘precious’ to be risked at no.4 because if I got out cheaply, a Pakistan collapse was likely to follow. That may have been so, but elementary cricket logic dictated that the team’s batting anchor come in at no.4, and in my mind at least, there were no doubts as to who ultimately anchored Pakistan’s batting.

I had confidence in my ability to do well when it mattered. I had done it for Pakistan before, and I knew with certainty I could do it for Pakistan again. I had learned a thing or two about the game and about myself by this time, and that gave me great mental comfort in my abilities. I had learned to play according to the demands of my team, my country and the situation in which I found myself at the batting crease. I knew when the time came I could even give 200%.

I saw something else behind this pressure to switch me around in the batting order. I couldn’t help feeling it was an attempt to somehow bring me down a notch, to try and diminish whatever stature I had managed to earn as the Pakistan no.4. It was hard to shake off this feeling. Years in the Pakistan side had taught me that I wasn’t surrounded by well wishers.

Questions about my batting in the Pakistani press were not helping the situation either. The newspapers were suggesting that I was past my best for Pakistan and had little to offer now.

A piece that really stung was a prominent newspaper article by Imtiaz Sipra, one of Pakistan’s veteran sports writers, the gist of which was that Miandad was finished and that we should forget about him. That hurt me very deeply. It upset me that one of Pakistan’s seasoned sports writers could misjudge me so completely. I knew better than anyone that I still had a lot to give Pakistan. I took it as a challenge to prove Sipra wrong.

Then during our pre-tournament training camp, my detractors were given an excuse to try and write me off from the 1992 World Cup altogether. During a physical training session, I strained my back. I had had trouble with my back off and on, but nobody understood my back better than I did, and I knew that with just ten to fifteen days rest, I would be fit again. Still it became an issue to be used against me. Although the back strain happened a good four weeks before the World Cup was to begin, already the vultures had started to circle.

Despite the injury, I understood from the captain, Imran, and the manager, Intikhab Alam, that I was going to be in the side. Then the official squad was announced. I had fully expected to be a part of it, and thought that my name would appear, although it would probably be qualified by the words ‘subject to fitness’. My name was nowhere to be seen. In fact, I was expecting to be named vice-captain, but the vice-captain announced was Saleem Malik. My exclusion from the World Cup team reinforced my suspicions that there were forces in Pakistan cricket working desperately against me.

I was angry at being left out, especially after the assurances from Imran and Intikhab to the contrary. I thought about calling Imran to vent my frustration, but decided there was little point. Instead, I called up Intikhab and let him have it.

“How could I be dropped like this after all that I have done for the team over the years?” I asked Intikhab. I told him if fitness were an issue, I should still have been selected - subject to fitness - as we were still weeks from the tournament’s opening game. I challenged Intikhab to justify my exclusion from the World Cup squad, but he remained quiet; there was no justification, and Intikhab knew it.

So the team flew off to Australia without me. I was disappointed and hurt, but I knew there was still a fair chance I would get a call-up. My back was getting better and I knew it would be fine in time for the tournament. Just wait for the team to be put to the test in Australia, I told myself; they’ll soon be calling for Miandad.

That is exactly what happened. The team arrived in Australia well in advance of the tournament to help get acclimatized to the local conditions. The Pakistan Cricket Board had arranged for our team to play a number of warm-up games ahead of the World Cup. Right away, the side’s weaknesses were exposed. Most of these preliminary matches were with semi-professional club sides, but even against such second-string opposition, the team was performing dismally.

It was all very predictable. Back in Lahore, I started getting urgent calls from the Board’s top officials asking me to pack my bags for Australia. Of course I was going – there was no question about it. I was aware that 1992 could well be my last World Cup, and after the 1987 tragedy in Lahore, I was desperate to make the most of this new opportunity and try and win the World Cup title for Pakistan. I agreed to go and join the team in Australia. Shahid Rafi, the Board Secretary, asked me to prove my fitness to a Board-appointed panel, which I did without difficulty.

Before leaving for Australia, I happened to run into Imtiaz Sipra in Lahore. I was still simmering about his dismissive newspaper piece and I confronted him about it. I told him if he was right about my batting, I would give up cricket, but if I proved him wrong and was successful in the World Cup, I expected him to give up journalism. Sipra tried to laugh it off but I told him I was dead serious. He had openly challenged my ability to bat for Pakistan; it was no laughing matter. So he agreed that if I helped bring the World Cup to Pakistan, he would give up his sports writing career.