At the very non-momentous time of Tuesday afternoon, under the cloudy summer skies of north London, against a country which has never played Test cricket, Pakistan will play the most important match in its recent history.

How recent? Almost two decades, I say. Tuesday’s result matters more than the result of any other match since the World Cup Final in 1992. That night in Melbourne we needed the win to prove - more to ourselves than anyone else - that Pakistan was indeed a major cricketing nation; that we belonged with the big boys.

There have been many important moments in Pakistan cricket since 1992: test series in England and India, the World Cup Final in 1999, countless others. Sometimes the cricket has taken a back seat to broader themes: who can forget the Karachi ODI against India in 2004 when Pakistan’s loss seemed insignificant because the transcendental power of cricket, for once, had triumphed above all?

These occasions were highly significant, with deep, often long-term consequences; however, the results of these matches were not as important as the result of Tuesday’s match. Even our loss to Ireland in 2007 was a different matter: the country and the team, although troubled, were not in as horrendous a shape as they find themselves in today.

Two matches have come close in terms of weight. Cast your minds back to the Champions Trophy in 2006. The Oval incident - the first time a Test match had been forfeited in cricket history - was followed by the doping scandal and withdrawal of Shoaib Akhtar and Mohammed Asif on the eve of the tournament. We were up against Sri Lanka in our first match, desperate and confused and shaken. A stirring performance was required, and the team complied.

Similarly, Pakistan had fallen on hard times going in to the first T20 World Cup. The team responded with outstanding cricket. Yes, it would have been wonderful to beat India in the final, but it was merely disappointing, not fatal. We’d done enough.

On Tuesday, ‘enough’ will only be a convincing win against The Netherlands: we must beat them by a hefty margin to go through to the next round.

It comes down to net run rate, and given the mammoth loss to England, if Pakistan bat first and make 150, we will have to restrict the Dutch to 125 or under. If the Dutch bat first and end up with 150, Pakistan will have to chase it down in 17 overs to qualify.

Unfortunately, the captain seems to disagree. Younus Khan has said that he has ‘never attached too much importance to Twenty20 cricket.’ Younus, quite simply, you’re wrong. Pakistan are cricket’s outcasts. No team is willing to play in our country. Last month the whole world (including The Netherlands’ Dirk Nannes) apart from us were invited to the biggest party in cricket, the IPL. We need to belong again. We need to prove - again, as much to ourselves as to the world – that Pakistan matters.

It is vital that we stay in the competition. It doesn’t matter that the format is 20-20. It matters that the world is watching, and that Pakistan is praying. I’m sorry that Younus and his team are burdened with such a feat: the nation is struggling and it is somewhat unfair to ask these eleven men to shoulder the responsibility of lifting our mood, of providing some much-needed pride and self-respect. But all we ask is that they try, that they fight, that they ... (for the first time since 1992, the cliché is apt and deserved, for the situation demands nothing less) play like cornered tigers.