Pakistan's famously volatile cricket team repeatedly tests the resolve of even the most committed fans. The euphoria of a world Twenty20 title sandwiched between terrorism in Lahore and embarrassment in Sri Lanka has left supporters spent and exhausted.

It has been a rollercoaster ride that started out with a terrifying fall, shot up into a delightful crescendo full of giddy excitement and butterflies in the stomach, and then plunged into a dark and dismal pit which, although uncomfortable, is nevertheless familiar.

The bulk of its support comes from fair-weather fans, but our beloved team has also always enjoyed steadfast devotion from a diehard segment. It is easy to spot diehards. Inspired by unquestioned love, they refuse to be disappointed. Even in the face of utter cricketing disaster; such as 17 for four after follow on, or the opposition's 228 without loss after being put in to bat -- the diehard is able to extract some positive note, an inspiring take-home message with which to console (and often delude) oneself. People often mistake diehards for optimists, but they are not the same. The optimist merely hopes for good times; the diehard believes it.

At the opposite end of the spectrum are the sceptics and malcontents. Both groups seemingly have the same defining characteristic -- a pessimistic view of any cricket performance by Pakistan. But there is an important difference. While the sceptic is difficult to please, the malcontent is impossible to please. Hanif Mohammad's legendary batting?

He lacked an attacking game. Fazal Mahmood's bowling prowess? He was only good on matting. Imran Khan's 12 wickets at Sydney? It took a long time coming. Javed Miandad's immortal six at Sharjah? It wasn't technically correct. World Cup 1992? The best team didn't win. Throw even the most flawless feat in the face of the malcontent, he or she will be able to find fault with it. Despite this intransigence, malcontents still follow Pakistan cricket avidly and wish it well. They just have impossible standards. Scattered between the diehards and the malcontents are a range of other fan types. My personal favourite is the theorist, typically an emotionally detached analyst with a deep understanding of the game. The theorist has a solid grasp of cricket's laws, traditions, tactics, and statistics. When he or she opines, it is in a flat and unemotional manner. There is no sense of advocating a particular point of view. You get the feeling the opinion has been offered without expectation, and you are welcome to either take it or leave it. Theorists have a healthy regard for the element of chance in cricket, and refuse to engage in predictions. Their source of pleasure lies in the fabric of the game, not its outcome.

A category closely related to the theorist is the obsessive, whose signature trait is an insatiable appetite for anything to do with the game. Like the theorist, the obsessive too has mastery over the details of cricket. But unlike the theorist, who maintains a healthy interest in the game, the obsessive overdoes it, becoming consumed with cricket to the exclusion of everything else. You know you're an obsessive when your preoccupation with cricket starts interfering with the course of daily life. A moment eventually comes when you run into trouble, and the excuses you can come up with are all somehow cricket-related.

And finally you have the cheerleaders and romantics. Both are robust devotees to Pakistan cricket. Unlike diehards, with whom they share a well-developed sense of loyalty and dedication, they are vulnerable to disappointment. The most visible difference between cheerleaders and romantics is in energy and decibel level. Cheerleaders are louder and more in your face, whereas romantics are subtle and reserved. While a cheerleader will watch a match with a painted face wearing the full Pakistan colour kit, punching the air with every boundary and high-fiving companions on each opposition wicket, the romantic will watch the game in a quiet state of repose, letting the pleasure wash over as something that just happened on the field evokes sepia-toned memories of bygone glories.

Many of us can identify with at least one of these seven categories. In most cases, a specific type will dominate, but there will be other shades too. There is probably a bit of sceptic in all of us, and probably a little bit of cheerleader as well. Nor are these categories permanent. To cite my own example, I started out as an obsessive in my teens and evolved into a romantic in my 20s. I would like to think I'm a theorist now, but in reality I'm probably more of a diehard. Everything changes over time, including the way we relate to cricket.