When the regular referee did not turn up, the bewildered organizers hired a football referee to supervize the penultimate cricket match
Something strange and unusual happened to the match-referee the night before the crucial cricket match between Hungary and Denmark. His wife gave birth to a freak baby. The child was born with a cricket bat in his hand. The referee did not turn up to supervize the penultimate match.
It was a very important match in the triangular cricket tournament played recently at Budapest between five chosen and blessed nations of the world. Never before in the history of cricket had five nations taken part in a triangular cricket tournament. The bewildered organizers of the tournament hired a football referee to supervize the cricket match.
The match-referee, Virtuso Competeno, from Mexico, was accommodated in the cabin allotted to the television umpire Dekh Kabira, sometimes called the third umpire. Dekh Kabira and I happen to be friends. My name is Dekh Bashira. Many years ago, we, for the first time, met at the residence of Imdad Faqira, the seeker of loans, grants, aids, zakat and donations for a country without fundamentals among the Third-World countries in the South-Asian region. For years, my friendship with Dekh Kabira created problems for me. The wise men in Pakistan thought Dekh Kabira was an Indian agent, and he had borrowed the services of a disloyal person in me to keep him informed on current issues in Pakistan.
Each time I received a letter from Dekh Kabira, I was hounded. On many occasions, I was picked up and vigorously interrogated. The wise and all-knowing refused to entertain my pleas. They were not prepared to believe that Dekh Kabira, by birth and origin, was Nepalese and not Indian. He was a maternal nephew of the paternal uncle of Sherpa Tensing Norkay, the man believed to have had first set his foot on the Himalayan peak, the summit of Mount Everest, in the company of Sir Edmund Hillary. As a good friend, he was well aware of my predicament. Finally, Dekh Kabira sent me his birth certificate, citizenship certificate and copy of his passport issued by the Nepalese government. The wise entertained the documents and set me at liberty to move about as a free citizen of a free country in my own country.
Dekh Kabira, by profession, is an excellent television producer with a deep interest in cricket. The tournament committee at Budapest engaged him as a television umpire for the triangular cricket tournament played between the five nations. In those days, I happened to be in Budapest. One night, we bumped into each other in a tramcar.
“Dekh Bashira!” He hugged me, and asked, “What are you doing in Budapest?” It was a pleasant surprise. I said, “I smoked one hundred cigarettes in ten minutes, and landed in this country to watch the triangular cricket tournament between five nations.”
“You smoked what?”
“I smoked one hundred cigarettes in ten minutes.”
“Have you gone crazy?”
“It was a competition sponsored by the environment-conscious Khanso King Size Cigarettes Company.”
“So you won?”
“Yes, I won it by smoking one hundred cigarettes in ten minutes.”
“Welcome to Budapest,” Dekh Kabira said, “but, don’t forget, smoking at public places in Budapest is strictly prohibited.” The next day, I joined Dekh Kabira in his cabin, and met the match-referee Virtuso Competeno. He alternatively watched the match between Hungary and Denmark through his binoculars and the TV set placed in front of Dekh Kabira. Denmark was in a precarious situation. They had lost five wickets for five runs, all clean-bowled by the fiery fast bowler, Hungry Hun. Virtuso Competeno turned round and talked to Dekh Kabira. He asked, “Don’t you think the match is fixed?”
Dekh Kabira shrugged his shoulders, and said, “Can’t say.”
Virtuso Competeno said, “I think the match is fixed, and the two umpires are also involved.”
“How can you say that?” Dekh Kabira asked.
Virtuso Competeno said, “I do not see umpires running along with the players all over the ground.”
Dekh Kabira smiled, and said, “They are not playing a football match.”
“Oh, I see!” Virtuso Competeno scratched his head, and said, “A bookie told me before the match that Hungarian selectors have inducted a Pakistani fast bowler in their team.”
Dekh Kabira said, “Our friend Dekh Bashira is from Pakistan. Only he can recognize a Pakistani player among the Hungarian team.”
“Mr Bashira, look at the fiery fast bowler, Hungry Hun. He has clean-bowled five batsmen of Denmark.” Virtuso Competeno gave me his binoculars, and asked, “Is he Shoebo Akhtaro?
I looked at the fast bowler, and said, “I don’t think he is Shoeb Akhtar.”
“Why is he vigorously rubbing the ball with his trousers?”
“He is trying to give it a shine.”
Virtuso Competeno immediately asked, “Doesn’t it amount to ball-tampering?”
“The ball is injured.” Dekh Kabira smiled, and said, “He, in fact, is nursing the ball.”
Virtuso Competeno did not feel amused. He rose to his feet, and reached out for the phone receiver, and talked to the chairman of the organizing committee. He said, “This is Virtuso Competeno, match-referee. Abandon the match immediately. It is fixed. Shoebo Akhtaro, under the assumed name Hungry Hun, is playing in the match for Hungary. I have caught him nursing the ball.”
