A fan’s fantasy

Published July 15, 2009

Imran Yusuf has a dream.

I had a dream last night, which I share with you below. For some reason my subconscious made me the chairman of the Pakistan Cricket Board with unlimited dictatorial powers. They say that only one's lover or psychoanalyst is interested in hearing one's dreams, but I have a feeling I'm not the only follower of Pakistan cricket who is affected by such thoughts during the wee hours.

Here’s how the dream went:

[I am sitting in my elaborately and tastelessly furnished office. There is a knock on the door.]

ME: Please come in.

[Steve Waugh and Sunil Gavaskar walk in and take a seat.]

ME: Stevo, Sunny, welcome.

SW: Strewth, Mr. Chairman, I saw the game yesterday. Mate, 10 lbws in two innings? That's a shocker!

SG: Indeed. What a collapse. Nine wickets for 35 runs. A batting performance frightfully, woefully, and - me being Indian, I must say [he smilles cheekily] - marvellously inadequate. No spine, no concentration.

ME: I know, I know. That's why we've decided to pay each of you five million dollars a year to coach and mentor our batsmen.

SW: Bonzer! But how are you blokes gonna afford that?

ME: Well we've belatedly realised we don't actually need a staff of 15,789, out of whom 8,221 seem to have the same designation of Special Advisor to the chairman; we don't need to pay expenses of such wastefulness and corruption they make the British House of Commons look like an assembly of saints; and we're actually going to maximise our massive TV earnings potential, for once, and use the money transparently and effectively. We'll have plenty of cash to spare, but bringing you two on board is the priority. Everyone talks about bowling coaches – ‘Who’s the best? Waqar, Aaqib, Wasim?’ - but my philosophy with Pakistan's problems is, 'It's the batting, stupid.'

SG: Are you calling me stupid?

ME: No, Sunny, calm down. Good to see you've still got fire in the belly. You don't get 13 centuries against the West Indies unless you're a fighter, I suppose. And Steve, nobody was tougher and had more application at the crease than you. You two are top of the list. Any reservations, gentlemen? SG: They'll crucify me in India for this.

ME: Think of it as a humanitarian gesture, an intervention, like that time you saved a Muslim family from a murderous mob during the 1993 Mumbai riots.

SG: You do need help, I must say.

ME: Mr. Waugh?

SW: Do you get Fosters in Pakistan?

[I smile and usher them out.]

You start first thing tomorrow. Thank you. Thank you.

[I press my intercom.]

ME: Get me Fawad Alam and Mohammad Amir on the line, please.

FA and MA: Salaam, sir!

ME: Don't call me sir. Please. I'm just a fat chairman in a cheap suit. You boys are the heroes, you deserve the respect, you've actually earned it. Now listen, I don't want you two getting upset or dispirited by the failure of most of the team to match your efforts. Chin up, onwards and upwards.

FA and MA: Yes, sir.

ME: And Amir, it might be wise to take a leaf out of Wasim Akram's book. Tired of having catches off his bowling dropped in the slip cordon, he eventually got the majority of his wickets lbw and bowled ... Actually, forget I said that, see you boys later, keep up the great work.

[I hang up and press my intercom.]

ME: Arrange an appointment with Bob Simpson. Tell him we'll give him five million dollars a year to teach our slip fielders how to catch. And please send in Mr. Younus Khan.

[Younus Khan strides into the room and we meet and greet.]

ME: Younus bhai, I'm sorry to have to do this, but you are banned from playing the reverse sweep.

YK: But I got to my triple century with a reverse swe...

ME: Shush.

YK: But unorthodoxy has always been part of my game, it's my very nature and...

ME: Chup.

YK: But it can be a very useful way of upsetting a spinner's rhyt..

ME: Buss! Enough.

YK: But why, Mr. Chairman, why?

ME: Because I say so, and I'm the chairman! [Evil laugh.] Next!

[Younus leaves and Salman Butt sheepishly walks into my office.]

ME: Mr. Butt.

SB: Sir, please, just call me Butt.

ME: With pleasure. We're giving you the Sitara-i-Eisaar, that's Pakistan's highest award for huminatarian service.

SB: Sir, thank you so much, what have I done to deserve this?

ME: Nothing yet, obviously. You're about to do something, however, something great and noble and charitable: resign from Pakistan cricket and promise you'll never play for us again. Sign here.

[Butt looks hesitatingly at the paper. I hold out a pen for him. With my other hand I take out a revolver from my top drawer and point it at him. He immediately signs the paper, showing quicker reflexes and superior coordination than anything he's shown in his entire career to date, and walks out.]

ME. Butt! One more thing. Send in the main man.

[Mohammad Yousuf walks in.]

ME: MoYo, your form is like a yo-yo. Century here, failure there, and so on. We need you to play a top innings when we really need it, to take the team to victory. Are you only interested in personal batting records?

[The azaan sounds and, without a word, Yousuf walks out of my office. Suddenly Javed Miandad strolls in.]

ME: Janab, I'm glad you came. We have to clear something up. You're always re-joining the PCB, then resigning, re-joining, then resigning, ad infinitum.

JM: Well, you people keep treating me with disrespect.

ME: And you keep giving us reason to.

JM: What did you say? How dare you. I'd fight you if I wasn't already tired from scrapping with Sunil Gavaskar in the car park. Only play fight, of course.

ME: No, listen. I want to give you a permanent role here. A proper designation, long-term. From now on your sole role is to make sure your nephew Faisal Iqbal never makes the first team again.

JM: That's asking a lot. How much do I get?

ME: How does five million dollars sound?

JM: Great! Hey, since that's so much, I can also make sure Salman Butt never plays for the first team again.   ME: Oh, really? Wonderful.

[I press my intercom.]

ME: Hi. Please call Salman Butt and tell him there was a big mistake, we're really sorry, and he needs to return his Sitara-i-Eisaar.

imranyusuf80x801
    Imran Yusuf lives in Karachi. He compulsively follows Pakistan cricket, which drives him mad. He also writes about Pakistan cricket, which keeps him sane.

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