An apple a day keeps the doctor away, goes the maxim. Nobody had ever thought of the merits or demerits of having a bite of the 'cherry' on a particular day when one gets up in the morning on the wrong side of the bed. Courtesy Shahid Khan Afridi, we now know that such an act brings into equation the psychiatrist.Ever since that fateful day when this act of lunacy was enacted, one question has been repeatedly put forth by both the media and the followers alike what the hell did Afridi think he was doing? And there have been no dearth of answers either. From South African Graeme Smith's quip — “probably he didn't like the lunch he was served in Australia” — to Afridi's initial response that he was simply “smelling the ball”, and finally the admission of guilt.
The funniest statement, however, came from Afridi's manager who has accompanied him in Australia all through the player's stint on the domestic Twenty20 circuit. The act, according to him, was reflective of the intense desire his client has for being the winner. This really is as preposterous as it gets. If people have nothing to say on a matter, they should at least learn to shut up. But even that looks like asking for too much in this case.
For all practical purposes, it was a crude and coarse attempt at giving an impossible twist of positivism to something that had only two connotations negative for sure, and either comical or embarrassing depending on how you look at it. Having seen Afridi on the scene for well over a decade, one can live with the fact that he is unable to control his state of mind for sustained periods of time and lose it completely in transient fits of madness, but he can at least control his manager. Honestly, he should have got rid of him as quickly as he rids himself of common sense.
To see it in perspective, Afridi is lucky to have got away with a ban for two Twenty20 internationals. A little over four years ago, he was banned for one Test and two One-Day Internationals. Playing at Faisalabad against the visiting England in November 2005, Afridi did a pirouette on the pitch with spikes on.
Afridi had played a characteristic innings, hitting the ball repeatedly in the air for an 85-ball 92. At the other end, Inzamamul Haq had equalled Javed Miandad's national record of 23 Test centuries, but soon afterwards got out in a bizarre fashion. He had gently drove back to Steve Harmisson who reflexively threw back at the stumps and appealed for a run-out as the batsman's feet were off the ground in an evasive action. After prolonged deliberation, third umpire Nadeem Ghauri upheld the appeal even though replays did not conclusively reveal Inzamam's position and, more importantly, he was clearly moving to avoid injury from the throw which under the relevant law gives immunity to the batsman.
The Pakistan innings soon ended and while television commentators were still busy debating the umpiring decision, Afridi, in an equally characteristic loss of mental balance, upstaged the debate and hogged the limelight. There was a blast on the boundary. The bang was loud and deep in tone and the players thought of the worst. They all ran to the middle and the security staff threw a cordon around them. The crowd moved away and police rushed to the site. The whole tour was on the brink for a while before it emerged that the blast was nothing more serious than an exploding gas cylinder inside a soft-drinks dispenser.
During the 10 minutes when play had to be halted, Afridi, with adrenalin content still high in the blood after his batting heroics, pirouetted forcibly on the pitch in an attempt to scuff it up for the spinners. Contrary to his belief, not all the television cameras on the ground had been distracted by the blast and he was caught making a fool of himself pirouetting on a length with his studded boots. Everyone had a laugh, but not all were amused. The match officials were certainly not and the ban came a little later.
With that kind of history behind him, he may well have been treated as a habitual offender and handed down something much more stern. Besides, at the time of his latest act of disgrace, he was the team leader with additional responsibility to behave like human beings — and even sociologists and anthropologists would confirm that human beings have never been known in history for chomping cricket balls. And yet he got away with it. Good for him. Not necessarily for the country though.