Click to see more The video starts off with a situation that is somewhat unique to this country: a bunch of kids playing night street cricket with the sort of equipment and venue that would make an MCC member scoff. Enter two men who are recognisable to even the casual follower (and fair dues to Pepsi for including two of the most horizontally-challenged cricketers, so as to remove any suggestion that their product is a pathway to athleticism). A disagreement between the active players and the newly entered internationals leads to the Pakistani suggesting that the winner takes home the prize (Pakistani players betting over the outcome of a match, quelle surprise?). A sign of the fearlessness, even arrogance, which every cricketer from this country seems to possess in abundance.

Quite naturally, the Pakistanis have to bat first – after all, if the Pakistanis were to win while chasing, the audience would deem the ad too unrealistic; the batsmen are never the heroes in our folk tales.

Warne sends the first ball in, and the first shot is rather predictable: a waft across the line with no footwork. The reply to this, as suggested by the batter’s partner, is the same as would be expected from every other Pakistani: charge the bowler and attack him recklessly. As any street cricketer is well aware, there are only two gears of batting: first and final; either you block or you blast.

The batting may not be from the textbook or be pleasing to the eye, but the message conveyed is that it is mighty effective. This is the strategy that has allowed the likes of Abdul Razzaq to forge decade long careers at the top level. And this, after all, is the land that glorifies Shahid Afridi and Imran Nazir endlessly. A short montage of shots later (all but one of which is played against the spin), and we arrive at what defines Pakistani cricket. Batting is just the opening act, something to entertain oneself before the headliners roll in.

The first ball bowled is a knee-high full toss, which is banged into the ground by Darren Lehmann and fielded spectacularly by the kid who had been the batsman earlier. One thing is immediately noticeable: both boys, when they catch the ball, do not have their eyes on it. So while the attempt may be impressive, it isn’t exactly something to always rely on. But this is the country which appreciates style over substance. This mind-set is also the reason why, despite however many stunning outfield catches, Pakistan will remain the worst fielding side (particularly in slip-catching) in the world.

The second ball featured is the one that defines Pakistani cricket: ignore the captain’s advice (both the gesture and the words are to the effect of asking for an off-cutter), throw caution to the wind and bowl the most high-risk of balls. And of course, the bowler succeeds, and reaffirms the motto of Pakistani cricket: a piece of individual unorthodox brilliance is, ironically, the most reliable of options that a player has.

The coup de grace that confirms the messages being conveyed subconsciously comes after the match. When Pakistan’s greatest export since the mango asks the bowler if he would be willing to play for Pakistan (a nod to the many international cricketers who have played for the country with little previous professional experience), the answer is predictable, yet telling. The boy, like every other player past or present, wants to be the captain. Whilst in other countries, captaincy is an honour or a duty, in Pakistan it is considered an opportunity, and it is one (often literally) worth fighting for.

In the end, this could all be reading too much into what was basically an ad from a time when the national team were short of stars that could be glorified. It represents the hope that fans have in the lean times: the next generation could be the one that brings the glory and the soul back to the national team. However, it will be interesting to see how Pakistan fares in the ODI series that starts today.