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Wounded Tiger : by Peter Oborne

Saj

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I'm only about 15 pages into this book and I'm already hooked. It's brilliant, fascinating and so informative.

The amount of detailed research that has gone into this book is amazing.

The first few pages are about the partition of India and Pakistan and how that affected the cricketers of that time and how so many of them were destined to play for India but eventually played for Pakistan, such as Fazal Mahmood.

Interesting that Fazal Mahmood's life was saved by Indian cricketer C K Nayudu on a train as Mahmood tried to return to Lahore. He was travelling from Poona to Bombay when a Hindu mob wanted to kill him because he was a Muslim, but Nayudu intervened with......a cricket bat.
 
Would buy it but I'm currently reading Capital in the 21st century which is a 700 page book.
 
This guy seems to be criminally underrated because he didn't play as many tests as he should have. The original great pacer from the subcontinent.
 
Peter Oborne provides some fascinating insights into the origins of Pakistan cricket. He quite rightly points out how "pitiful" the state of the national organisation of the game was when the partitioner's axe was wielded with devastating effect. Pakistan cricket began its life with no Test match grounds, only two turf pitches and no first class cricket competition.

Pakistan was also cast – against Jinnah’s wishes - as a seceding state rather than as a part inheritor of the British Raj. As such it had to apply for membership to international organisations such as the United Nations and the ICC, whereas there was no such compulsion for India. The ICC rejected Pakistan’s application for membership in 1948 and 1950.

The MCC suggested that for cricketing purposes India should remain a single country. Oborne draws attention to the intriguing fact that even the Sindh Cricket Association “was nervous about breaking with the BCCI.”

Faced by financial constraints, poor facilities, the lack of a strong grass-roots structure, and seeking legitimacy, the BCCP looked to important figures - private and public - which not only led to a politicised structure emerging but encouraged intrigue. As Osborne notes, the first president of the BCCP was the Nawab of Mamdot the rural magnate who was part of the Muslim League movement in the 1940s. (Interestingly the key figures at the helm of the BCCP were as Oborne highlights, one Parsi -Justice Cornelius, one Christian – KR Collector and one Muslim – the Nawab of Mamdot.)

The manner of Pakistan’s birth bred insecurity. Oborne perceptively writes that AH Kardar, “became captain of a marginalized cricket team representing a traumatised nation neurotic about its status and desperate for recognition. Kardar was a personal manifestation of this neurosis…driven by the passionate belief in the honour of Pakistan.”

In the origins of Muslim cricket Oborne draws attention to the importance of Aligarh. As the student of Pakistani history would be well aware of, Aligarh was central to the Pakistan movement, providing much of the Muslim League leadership. “The intense connection between cricket and Aligarh meant that cricket became a central part of Muslim identity as the idea of Pakistan emerged.” The great cricketing college, Islamic College in Lahore, was an offshoot of the Aligarh movement and it supplied a significant number of Pakistan’s cricketers in its early years.

There are many other thoughts on the origins of Pakistan cricket provoked by Oborne’s first three chapters on the origins of Pakistani cricket - the only chapters I have so far read. From these chapters it is obvious that Oborne has thoroughly researched his topic and approaches the subject with great empathy.
 
Interesting that Fazal Mahmood's life was saved by Indian cricketer C K Nayudu on a train as Mahmood tried to return to Lahore. He was travelling from Poona to Bombay when a Hindu mob wanted to kill him because he was a Muslim, but Nayudu intervened with......a cricket bat.

And we are all taught how the morals of the society have gone to dogs with all the murders and violence that is happening in India currently.
 
I'm only about 15 pages into this book and I'm already hooked. It's brilliant, fascinating and so informative.

The amount of detailed research that has gone into this book is amazing.

The first few pages are about the partition of India and Pakistan and how that affected the cricketers of that time and how so many of them were destined to play for India but eventually played for Pakistan, such as Fazal Mahmood.

Interesting that Fazal Mahmood's life was saved by Indian cricketer C K Nayudu on a train as Mahmood tried to return to Lahore. He was travelling from Poona to Bombay when a Hindu mob wanted to kill him because he was a Muslim, but Nayudu intervened with......a cricket bat.

Indeed interesting considering CK Nayadu was born in 1895 and Fazal Mahmood was born in 1927, which means CK Nayadu was 32 years old when Fazal was born. Does Peter Oborne present any dates to the incident? I'm not denying or refuting his research. It is just that the age gap is a bit too huge, and I am curious to know more.
 
I'm only about 15 pages into this book and I'm already hooked. It's brilliant, fascinating and so informative.

The amount of detailed research that has gone into this book is amazing.

The first few pages are about the partition of India and Pakistan and how that affected the cricketers of that time and how so many of them were destined to play for India but eventually played for Pakistan, such as Fazal Mahmood.

Interesting that Fazal Mahmood's life was saved by Indian cricketer C K Nayudu on a train as Mahmood tried to return to Lahore. He was travelling from Poona to Bombay when a Hindu mob wanted to kill him because he was a Muslim, but Nayudu intervened with......a cricket bat.
Saj Bhai do you know if it is available in the U.S.? I can't find it anywhere.
 
The Palestinian literary theorist Edward Said noted that western writers are able to come to terms with the east only through stereotypes. Thus was it the fate of Pakistani cricket to be defined by negative images, and its cricketers to emerge as caricatures.

Despite their records as players and leaders, Javed Miandad was portrayed as a hooligan, and AH Kardar, their first captain, as a fanatic. The country's cricket and its players are far richer and more varied than this pigeon-holing would suggest. And, ironically, it has taken a western writer to restore the balance.

The paucity of imagination when dealing with these fine cricketers contrasts sharply with the imagination that formed them. Imran Khan once told me "We don't come through the system because we don't have a system." The stories of greenhorns catapulted into international cricket are not matched anywhere else. There is a system, it is just that the rest of the world does not understand it. Even today, the terms associated with Pakistan include "ball tampering", "match fixing", "dodgy umpiring" and Ian Botham's recommendation for a mother-in-law's holiday. Seldom is all this countered by the cricketers' remarkable technical inventiveness and sheer joy of playing.

In Wounded Tiger, a variation on Imran's rallying call before the 1992 World Cup which Pakistan won ("We should go out there and fight like cornered tigers"), Peter Oborne brings to the task the sensitivity he displayed in his book on Basil D'Oliveira. This is the most complete, best researched, roses-and-thorns history of cricket in Pakistan. The author places the cricket in its cultural and political context, detailing the series played, the personalities who shone (or didn't), and the decisions that mattered.

"Cricket", he says, "came to fill the same role in Pakistan society as football does in Brazil. It represented, in an untrammelled way, the national personality. A new generation emerged (in the 1970s) which played the game with a compelling and instinctive genius. Many of these new players came from poor backgrounds, and some from remote areas….they imposed their own personalities, with the result that cricket went through a period of inventiveness and brilliance comparable to the so-called Golden Age before World War One."

Both reverse swing and the "doosra" are Pakistani inventions. That it was the medium pacer Sarfraz Nawaz who developed the former is well established, and so is that Saqlain Mushtaq was the father of the latter. Oborne shakes that latter certainty, however, suggesting it may have been a left arm spinner, Prince Aslam, who first bowled the doosra in the 1950s. Keith Miller thought Aslam was the best bowler of his type in Pakistan, but he fell foul of Kardar, the martinet.

Kardar was, in some senses, the creator of Pakistan cricket, the captain who led the team to a win in England on their first tour in 1954. A generation later came Imran in his role as preserver and inspiration to another set of imaginative fast bowlers and spinners, the Wasim Akrams, the Waqar Younuses and Abdul Qadirs. The destroyer, to complete the analogy, is probably the politician who has ensured that this talented side gets no international game at home. This is, as Oborne puts it, Pakistan's age of isolation following the terrorist attack on Sri Lanka's team bus in 2009.

Oxonian Kardar took great pride in dressing like an English gentleman, but as he became more confident, "he acquired a post-colonial sensibility." The English way of running the game no longer appealed. This conversion had consequences for Pakistani cricket, which began to focus inwardly. It learnt to run before it could walk – playing Test cricket before there was a domestic structure in place. Kardar's conversion might also have been helped by the English treatment of Idris Baig, a Test umpire kidnapped by England skipper Donald Carr and some teammates and given the "water treatment" in a room on a tour of Pakistan (he was made to sit and two buckets of water were thrown at him).

The details of that unsavoury incident, which might have got a team banned today, are here for the first time. Baig made some bad decisions, and the English had a problem with his personality, but this was ridiculous. "Carr's team," says Oborne, "like many England sides to follow, was locked into too narrow a set of social and moral parameters to be able to fully respond to Pakistan." At the end of it all, it is Baig who emerges with dignity; when he met Carr many years later he greeted him with a warm hug.

The story of Pakistani cricket calls for vivid colours and bold brush strokes. Record-keeping is not one of the strengths in a country where a player like Alimuddin is seen to have played first class cricket at the age of 12. Any writer must necessarily take in the oral history and the legends that grow with every telling if he is to present a full picture. Oborne focuses on the historical, but does not ignore the anecdotal. The footnotes provide excellent reading, especially the one on Pakistan President Iskandar Mirza, who "fled penniless to Britain, where he is said to have lived in a small west London flat and worked as an accountant at Veerasami, the Indian restaurant in Piccadilly."

What makes Pakistani cricket tick? Many of their teams have taken to the field with no player on talking terms with any other. Miandad and Imran were at loggerheads when they batted together to ensure their World Cup win in Australia, 1992. Once two different sets of players turned up for a Test match at home. Yet it has all somehow worked out. Oborne tells us how.

Suresh Menon is editor of the 'Wisden India Almanack


http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-e...stan-by-peter-oborne-book-review-9626084.html
 
Indeed interesting considering CK Nayadu was born in 1895 and Fazal Mahmood was born in 1927, which means CK Nayadu was 32 years old when Fazal was born. Does Peter Oborne present any dates to the incident? I'm not denying or refuting his research. It is just that the age gap is a bit too huge, and I am curious to know more.

So what? That means Fazal was 20 and Colonel Nayudu was 52 during the incident. The Colonel played first-class cricket regularly till 1958, and returned for one last time in 1963 at the age of 68.

Also see this link:
http://books.google.co.in/books?id=...A#v=onepage&q=CK NAYUDU FAZAL MAHMOOD&f=false

Pundits from Pakistan: On Tour with India 2003-04
By Rahul Bhattacharya
 
Wounded Tiger: a History of*Cricket in Pakistan by Peter Oborne, review:

Kevin Telfer praises a colourful account of Pakistani cricket that reclaims this mercurial team from its pariah status

Pakistani cricket: what a subject. What players – and what characters: the regal Imran, the street-fighter Javed, the mesmerising Qadir. Controversy and drama seems to surround the Pakistani Test team wherever and whenever it plays, be it in terms of spot-fixing, umpires, ball-tampering, on-field confrontations, sporting brilliance or terrorism.

Of all the world’s cricket teams, they are the least antiseptic and the most mercurial. Such, at least, is the conventional wisdom. But this encyclopedic work by Peter Oborne avoids these tabloid stereotypes – both in terms of the country’s most famous individuals who are the stuff of cricketing legend – as well as Pakistani cricket in general. It makes for a rich, fascinating and sometimes surprising read.

Since its birth in 1947, the country of Pakistan has had an exceptionally turbulent and violent history. This forms the backdrop to Oborne’s carefully researched and meticulously constructed narrative, starting with the bloodshed of partition, all the way through to a modern Pakistan that is considered so unsafe following the attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team and umpires in Lahore in 2009 that the national side must play its matches in exile.

At the age of 20, fast bowler Fazal Mahmood was not going to let political and social chaos get in the way of his cricketing ambitions as he headed deep into Hindu territory for a training camp in August 1947. On the way back from the camp he would have been lynched by Hindu fanatics on a train were it not for the legendary Indian cricketer C K Nayudu, who defended Mahmood with his cricket bat. Almost exactly seven years later, in Pakistan’s second series as a Test nation in 1954, playing against an England side at the Oval that featured the likes of Hutton, Compton and Graveney, Mahmood took 12 for 99 as his side recorded a victory which put them on the Test map for the first time.

The Pakistan captain that day was Abdul Kadar and he and Mahmood (Pakistan’s second captain) form the focus of the first section of the book which is novelistic in scope – combining close character study and an eye for insightful detail without losing sight of the wider historical context.

Many controversial moments involving the Pakistan Test side have also involved England teams. In 1956, a touring MCC team played against the Pakistan national side. Unhappy with a number of decisions from Pakistan umpire Idris Baig, some of the MCC players decided to teach him a lesson one night by drenching him in water at their hotel. It caused a considerable upset. While not an enormously important event in itself in the annals of cricket, Oborne notes the “English hypocrisy” and “British condescension” at its heart after the affair was shrugged off by the MCC as harmless “ragging”. This hypocrisy and condescension – as well as racial stereotyping – from England towards Pakistan is a recurring theme in this book and Norman Tebbit (over his “cricket test”), Simon Heffer (on his description of Pakistan as “the pariahs of cricket”) and Mike Gatting (the infamous Shakoor Rana umpiring incident) all get short shrift.

“It is hard to come to grips with the set of values which led [Gatting] to take such a strong stand against allegedly poor Pakistan umpiring, yet be relaxed enough about apartheid to take a rebel squad to South Africa,” writes Oborne on Gatting’s finger-wagging spat in 1987. He concludes that “Gatting’s temperament was not equal to the stresses of the tour”.

There is a strong sense here that Pakistan have been unfairly treated – certainly in England, but also across the global cricketing community. Javed Miandad is a prime example, his considerable achievements as a batsman undermined by an abrasive reputation that was highlighted by a number of incidents such as his on-field tussle with Dennis Lillee in 1981 where he seemingly raised his bat to hit the fast bowler after Lillee had kicked him. So it may seem surprising to some that he is credited by Oborne with “extraordinary grace, self-knowledge and understanding”. But the reader is left in no doubt: “Javed has been misrepresented, in particular by the white, western press.”

There are other surprises, too. Imran Khan is portrayed as a “not especially gifted cricketer” but, in contrast to his image of casual, princely brilliance, as someone who was “always learning, always seeking to improve himself and always seeking out responsibility”.

Modern Pakistani cricket has been plagued with allegations of ball-tampering, match-fixing and corruption at the same time as the country has staggered from one crisis to the next. But it was the 2009 ambush of the Sri Lankan cricket team on their way to the second Test in Lahore that has had the most profound impact on the team – and the country as a whole.

“These terrorists managed through cricket to strike at the heart of Pakistan’s nationhood. The loss of major international cricket has persisted ever since. It has hurt Pakistan cricket not only financially but psychologically: every Pakistan team since then has been playing as foreigners, away from family and friends at home, supported only by expatriates or rich hangers-on.” None the less, Oborne remains optimistic about the future of Pakistan cricket. “It is part of Pakistan’s history and also its future. It is magical and marvellous.”

And it hasn’t always been as dramatic as the stereotype might suggest. Hanif Mohammed was Pakistan’s most obdurate batsman and still holds the record for the longest Test innings of all time – his 337 against the West Indies in 1958 took 16 hours to compile. He later captained the side for 11 games in the Sixties, a decade in which Pakistan won just two Test matches – both against New Zealand – and drew 24. So there’s another surprise: Pakistani cricket – for all of its improbable drama – has been boring too.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/...icket-in-Pakistan-by-Peter-Oborne-review.html
 
Wounded Tiger: A History of Cricket in Pakistan review – 'an encyclopaedic, often thrilling portrait'

In 2002, a friend who told us he worked in the foreign office (we all suspected that he was really a spy) brought me a cricket bat back from a trip to Pakistan. Over the following two seasons I enjoyed a coruscating run of form (never rekindled) and felt I'd channelled down the years the glamour and excitement that was once synonymous with Pakistani cricket.

For those of us who came of cricketing age in the 1980s and 90s, when we'd watch the lithe, loping figures of Imran Khan and Wasim Akram race through opposition innings, the raw batting power of Inzamam-ul-Haq or the wilier gifts of Javed Miandad, Pakistan was the home of cricketing genius. As I read Peter Oborne's intelligent, detailed and highly affectionate history of the Pakistani game, Wounded Tiger, I was reminded of how far the team has fallen in subsequent years. Much of this decline, of course, is to do with things external to cricket – the "war on terror", the corruption of Pervez Musharraf's regime, the breakdown of civil society in a country seemingly under attack from all sides. What Oborne reminds us (at least in the early chapters of his book) is that this wasn't always the case. In the first years of post-partition Pakistani cricket, even while the country lurched from crisis to crisis, with war an ever-present threat, the sport remained a vehicle for hope, a magnet for decency and national feeling. Wounded Tiger is peppered with stories of cricketers, politicians and administrators working to better relations between Pakistan and India, to dampen radicalism, to make the sport the centre of a national narrative of patient progress.

Pakistani cricket has been through any number of dips and troughs since the violent partition of 1947, and Oborne charts all of them in his exhaustive account. He not only provides records of the vast majority of tests (including the painfully tedious matches in the 1960s when the Pakistani side attempted to out-bore their opposition), but also delves into the history of the pre-partition sport in Lahore and – in what is unfortunately the driest chapter of the book – the women's game in Pakistan. Oborne's last cricket book, which told the extraordinary story of Basil D'Oliveira, the mixed-race South African who played for England during the years of apartheid, was exquisitely researched and a scintillating read. It also had the chronology of its subject's life to shape the plot. Marshalling the turbulent history of the rise and fall of Pakistani cricket into a single narrative is a more difficult task.

Oborne succeeds when he focuses on the human beings behind the white flannels. His portraits of two of the early heroes of Pakistani cricket, AH Kardar and Fazal Mahmood, fizz with energy and life. Kardar is a snob in Jermyn Street suits who "prided himself, sometimes to the point of absurdity, on his Oxford education", and handed players staying with him wads of banknotes with which they might tip the staff. The blue-eyed Fazal is a more sympathetic character, who, when travelling through India to Bombay immediately after partition, was set upon by Hindu fanatics. Oborne tells us that they "would have lynched him but for the intervention of his travelling companion, the India cricket legend CK Nayudu, who defended Fazal against assailants with a cricket bat."

The early sections of the book are filled with such Boy's Own stories of heroism on and off the cricket field, and it is here that the Kipling-quoting Oborne is at his most comfortable, bringing in evocative figures like the Nawab of Pataudi and the Maharajkumar of Vizianagram, early aristocratic proponents of the game. In these early chapters, politics and sport interlace so neatly that Wounded Tiger becomes not so much a history of Pakistani cricket as a history of Pakistan viewed through the magnifying lens of the sport. The story of the first Pakistani tour of India, victory at the Oval in 1954, the English kidnap of a Pakistani umpire in 1956 ("Just Banter, Old Boy" was the exculpating headline in Time magazine), all of these are told with such verve, such a mixture of charm and wit, that we forgive Oborne his occasional lapses into cricketing journalese (different players are described as being "all at sea" within a couple of pages of each other; the near-identical rendering of innings after innings can feel bludgeoning at times).

The book wanders a little in its middle parts (much as Pakistan's cricket team did) and only finds its feet again with the coming of another (pseudo-) aristocratic figure, Imran Khan. The last section of the book – "The Age of Isolation" – attempts to find optimism in the game's current post-9/11 trough, and the author's lonely travels within Pakistan give the final chapters an elegiac, almost tragic air. Oborne finishes with an interview with Khan, linking him to his 1950s precursor, another handsome Oxford man, AH Kardar. It's a neat ending to an encyclopaedic but often thrilling portrait of a beautiful country and its place in the history of this most beautiful game.

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/jul/27/wounded-tiger-review-peter-oborne-pakistan-cricket
 
Batting for survival

Peter Oborne's long-awaited opus has finally arrived

“WHAT do they know of cricket who only cricket know?” The literary challenge posed by C.L.R. James, a Trinidadian Marxist author, has borne much fruit in recent years, especially in India. Led by Ramachandra Guha, cricket writers have produced illuminating studies of the Indian game’s socio-political context in which not only cricket, but also India, is the subject. Pakistani cricket is every bit as wonderful to enthusiasts of the world’s second most popular game and as important to an emerging Asian country’s fragile self-identity. But, compared with India, it has been relatively neglected. So Peter Oborne’s ambitious history of Pakistani cricket, “Wounded Tiger”, has been eagerly awaited. It does not disappoint.

The title refers to a team talk given by the then Pakistani cricket captain, Imran Khan, halfway through the 1992 World Cup in Australia and New Zealand. The Pakistanis were playing abysmally and on the verge of elimination. To survive, they must fight like cornered Tigers, urged Mr Khan. What followed was spectacular: a run of flamboyant victories, including in the tournament’s final, against England. Humiliation and triumph—all sportsmen face them. Pakistan’s mercurial cricketers often seem to do so on a weekly basis.

It is, as Mr Oborne shows, their successes that are most remarkable. At birth, in 1947, Pakistan inherited little of British India’s cricket infrastructure or tradition. The game was hardly played outside Lahore and Karachi, which had lost much of its population to India. Pakistan had few clubs, only a handful of turf wickets and no cricket administration, first-class tournament, international recognition or significant patron. Yet it had a handful of brilliant players, including Fazal Mahmood, a fast bowler with film-star looks, and A.H. Kardar, an Oxford-educated former India Test player, most of whom had grown up within walking distance of each other in the old walled city of Lahore. Amazing everyone but themselves, they soon pulled off shock victories against all cricket’s established powers, including an almost miraculous away defeat of England in 1954; it would be almost two decades before India’s cricketers managed that.

Despite having the world’s most chaotic and politicised cricket administration, the Pakistanis were, by the 1970s and into the 1980s, one of the world’s best teams. They were known for the fiery brilliance of their fast bowlers, including Sarfraz Nawaz and Mr Khan, for the exuberance of batsmen such as Zaheer Abbas and Javed Miandad, but also for an uncanny ability to produce moments of unexpected genius—including dashing tail-end partnerships. In at least two important ways, Pakistani players changed cricket: by reinventing wrist-spin and inventing, in reverse swing, a new fast-bowling art.

None of these achievements, as Mr Oborne, a British journalist and author, argues convincingly, have been fully appreciated. Perceived as an awkward, sometimes aggressive, threat to cricket’s erstwhile-white custodians, Pakistani cricketers were often viewed with suspicion or disdain. Too often, it must be said, they invited this; corruption, including bent umpiring, ball-tampering and, more recently, the blight of match-fixing, has been increasingly evident in Pakistani cricket, as in Pakistan. Indeed, the fortunes of the country and its cricket—as Mr Oborne’s title also suggests—have never been more tragically aligned; since a Jihadist attack on the visiting Sri Lankan team in 2009, Pakistan has been a cricketing pariah, with hardly any foreign team willing to visit it. These are bitter blights. Yet they are not all unique to Pakistan; nor should they obscure its gifts to cricket.

“Wounded Tiger” celebrates the triumphs and castigates the offences fairly. Inevitably, for a work of such scope, there are weaknesses: too many cursory match reports; perhaps too little exploration of the all-important cricketing relationship with India; a rattlebag feel to the closing chapters on finance and women’s cricket. Yet this is a monumental telling of one of sport’s great stories, based on thorough, sometimes groundbreaking research. It deserves a place in every cricket library and beyond.

http://www.economist.com/news/books...ted-opus-has-finally-arrived-batting-survival
 
‘Wounded Tiger: A History of Cricket in Pakistan’, by Peter Oborne

Pakistan’s love affair with cricket is one of the most remarkable stories of our times. Few could have predicted that the game would become so dominant when the country was created as a homeland for Muslims of the subcontinent in 1947, one of two confessional states to emerge in quick succession (Israel was born a year later). Then it was a middle-class activity largely confined to the two big cities of Lahore and Karachi and, as the journalist Peter Oborne writes in Wounded Tiger, “unknown throughout much of Pakistan’s rural hinterland”.

Yet today, even in the remote, conflict-torn Swat Valley, cricket is well established. Pakistan has also produced some of the world’s great players and, in Imran Khan, one who has become a major force in politics. Adapting the game to Pakistani conditions, the nation’s ever-resourceful cricketers have also done something that few countries, England apart, can lay claim to: invent a whole new technique, called reverse swing, which revolutionised the art of fast bowling. Now, such is the game’s status that Oborne concludes: “It is played by the army and the Taliban. It is enjoyed by all of Pakistan’s sects and religions. It is part of Pakistan’s history and also its future.”

What makes all this very surprising is that the Pakistani state has fulfilled almost none of the grand expectations that attended its birth. The new country was seen as potentially a vibrant Muslim power that would combat Soviet communism; in 1955 the Americans drew it into the now forgotten Baghdad Pact, a sort of Islamic Nato. Ernest Bevin, the UK foreign secretary at the time of independence, was confident that Pakistan would help shore up British power in the region. And while Winston Churchill told his assistant private secretary John Colville that Hindus were a foul race, and that he wished Bomber Harris could send some surplus bombers to destroy them, he often praised the great fighting qualities of the Muslims.

To make matters worse, in 1971 the very idea of Pakistan – that Islam provided the glue that could keep Muslims of the subcontinent united despite vast cultural, ethnic and linguistic differences – was gravely shaken by the civil war that led the creation of Bangladesh.

This wider appreciation of society is relevant because, from the beginning, Pakistani cricket was intimately tied to the government, with the president acting as the patron of the cricket board. Oscillation between civilian and military rule resulted in much nepotism and government interference, at its worst during the military dictatorship of General Ayub Khan, who moved the headquarters of the board into the country’s military headquarters in Rawalpindi. Then, in 1969, on the principle that the masses would be diverted by a circus, he persuaded the British Foreign Office to make sure that an MCC team toured his country to shore up his collapsing regime. During that tour he interfered with the selection of the Pakistani team and ordered that Tests should be played not over five days but four, fearing that political opponents would use them as an occasion for protests.

In recent years, cricket has been put under further pressure as Pakistan has been caught up in George W Bush’s war on terror following 9/11. In 2009, as the Sri Lankan cricket team were on their way to a Test in Lahore, their team bus was attacked by militant gunmen. Since then Pakistan has played its home Tests in the Gulf. So against such a background, it seems miraculous that the game exists at all, let alone is considered by Pakistanis as their pride and joy.

Oborne has taken up the challenging task of explaining this cricketing miracle – one made greater by the fact that, while Pakistani cricket has produced much history, it has produced few native historians. He has overcome this problem through the most exhaustive research seen in a cricket book. The danger with such an approach is that the reader may be suffocated, with one fact piled on another. Oborne skilfully avoids this pitfall by making his narrative a succession of dramatic acts, blending chiselled portraits of the leading characters and their struggles with nuggets of fascinating information.
One of the most interesting concerns the legendary Indian cricketer Lala Amarnath, who was born a poor Hindu in pre-partition Punjab. Oborne’s research reveals that Amarnath’s cricket education in Lahore was sponsored by a Muslim family, who took him into their home upon discovering that the gifted young player they observed in the street was being brought up in straitened circumstances. This episode will come as a bombshell to many Indians.

Other more established families, as Oborne rightly stresses, ensured that Pakistani cricket could grow despite the system. The Burkis of Lahore have provided some 40 first-class cricketers in the subcontinent including three Pakistan captains, Imran Khan, Javed Burki and Majid Khan. And, notes Oborne, “the Mohammads [of Karachi] were represented in 100 out of Pakistan’s first 101 Tests, spread across twenty-seven years”.

Oborne makes no secret that he believes writing on Pakistan cricket “has sometimes fallen into the wrong hands . . . carried out by people who do not like Pakistan”. His barb is particularly directed at fellow English writers whom he feels have portrayed Pakistani cricketers as caricatures. However, despite his declared mission to rescue Pakistan cricket from such charlatans, he deals at length with the various corruption scandals that have so besmirched the game. This reached a nadir during the tour of England in 2010, when a sting by the now defunct News of the World exposed three cricketers, including captain Salman Butt, as match-fixers. The ensuing trial at Southwark Crown Court in London resulted in all three being sent to jail and revealed the murky world of corruption afflicting the game in Pakistan.

Despite such horrors, Oborne remains convinced that “Nothing else expresses half so well the singularity, the genius, the occasional madness of the people of Pakistan and their contribution to the world sporting community.” Even if the reader of Wounded Tiger does not fall in love with Pakistan, nobody seeking to understand that amazing country can ignore Oborne’s compelling book.

http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/b61ae0c2-17f2-11e4-a82d-00144feabdc0.html
 
Wounded Tiger: The History of Cricket in Pakistan review – heroes and villains


That Pakistan cricket exists at all is a miracle. The rulers of the British empire did not intend the game to be played by anyone other than white men. As the Indian historian Ramachandra Guha observed, cricket, to Europeans in colonial India, was "an extended escape" from the country's chatter, dirt and smells. The natives were regarded as too weak, effeminate and irrational to master the "manly game". Though cricket was played in India in the 18th century, Indians themselves took no part until the middle of the 19th. Only after a prolonged struggle were they allowed the facilities to form clubs and hold organised games.

In the area that became Pakistan, the game remained almost wholly European until the end of the century and, even at independence in 1947, it was still relatively weak, with just two turf wickets in the whole country. As Peter Oborne observes in this absorbing history, it could easily have become a mere satellite of India, as Ireland was of England after 1922. Pakistan was not allowed to play full official test matches until 1952.

Yet it then won the second test match it played, against India in India, and went on to beat England at the Oval in London in 1954 (by contrast, India didn't win in England until 1971) and Australia at home in 1956. Indeed, Pakistan did not lose a test on home soil until 1959 and, over its first eight years, won eight out of 29 matches, losing nine.

The cricket was, to be sure, a little dull – the first star batsman, Hanif Mohammad, broke records for slow scoring – but, as one commentator put it, success "was one of the early bonds of nationhood". Many early players were born in India and their families were among Muslims who fled to Pakistan when the subcontinent was bloodily divided. Several, including Fazal Mahmood, who bowled England out at the Oval, were stalwarts of the Muslim League which campaigned for a separate state. The first captain, AH Kardar, was an Islamic socialist who persuaded the government to put money into cricket and to give players sinecures in the police, armed services, railways, public works and other state agencies.

Since the 1950s, Pakistan has produced cricketers more gifted, and certainly more exciting to watch, than those early pioneers: Shoaib Akhtar, the "Rawalpindi Express" who is reckoned by some to have bowled faster than any man in history; Imran Khan, an all-rounder as good as Ian Botham; Shahid Afridi who has hit more sixes than anyone else in one-day internationals. Moreover, the players come from far wider social and geographical backgrounds than their predecessors; cricket, it is said, is played even in some remote Taliban-controlled regions. Sometimes new stars are taken off the streets; in 1979, for example, a 21-year-old spin bowler called Tauseef Ahmed was selected for the test team after just one first-class match and took seven Australian wickets. Pakistan cricket has been inventive as well as entertaining. Sarfraz Nawaz, Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis pioneered reverse swing, whereby an old ball, highly polished on one side, swings at express pace in the opposite direction to what the batsman expects. The spin bowler Saqlain Mushtaq invented the "doosra", a leg‑break disguised as an off-break.

Yet England supporters who despair at how their team can switch from being close to world-beaters to serial losers within 12 months should spare a thought for their counterparts in Pakistan. Over the past 50 years, Pakistan has alternated brilliant victories with abject defeats in bewildering fashion. Captains rarely last longer than a year or two and players are dropped, re-selected and then dropped again without apparent rhyme or reason. The English media treat these episodes with amused condescension, though, until a decade or so ago, England's selection decisions were scarcely less erratic and, as the Kevin Pietersen saga shows, clashes of personality and failures of discipline aren't confined to what journalists portray as volatile orientals.

Pakistan rarely get much credit even when they do win. Before neutral umpires were agreed, home victories were often attributed to umpiring bias, though, as Oborne shows, there is no statistical evidence of any such thing. On a second-team tour to Pakistan in the 1950s, English players were so disgruntled with one umpire that, led by their captain Donald Carr, who was educated at Repton, Sandhurst and Oxford, they "kidnapped" the offender and doused him with water. Another tour was almost abandoned when the England captain, Mike Gatting, had a famous on-field row with the umpire Shakoor Rana. Other Pakistan successes were attributed to cheating. Reverse swing was held to be the result of illegal (or at least morally suspect) ball tampering until England used it to beat Australia in 2005.

Over the last decade, Pakistan, without ever achieving consistency, has still managed some outstanding performances, twice beating an England side fresh from Ashes success with some comfort. Its survival as a major cricketing force is a greater miracle than its original emergence. Since the turn of the century, one disaster has followed another. A tour by New Zealand was abandoned after a suicide bomber struck a hotel where both teams were staying; another ended when the visiting Sri Lankans' bus was attacked; during a tour of England, an umpire accused the team of ball tampering; their coach, Bob Woolmer, died in mysterious circumstances during a World Cup tournament in the West Indies; three players, including the captain, were implicated in a betting scandal exposed by the News of the World.

Because of terrorist threats, Pakistan cannot now play internationals on its home soil. Since the 2008 Mumbai bombings (blamed by India on Pakistan), it cannot play India at all outside international tournaments such as the World Cup, thus depriving it of the game's most lucrative market for TV rights. Nor can the players appear in the Indian Premier League where money flows as freely as in English football's Premier League – all of which helps to explain, if not excuse, their openness to offers from operators in the subcontinent's largely illegal betting industry. Pakistan have become a peripatetic team playing "home" matches in the Gulf states. Yet whenever they seem doomed to permanent decline, the players turn in another glittering performance. In a more stable political environment and with more reliable management, they could rival Australia and West Indies in producing consistently world-beating teams.

It is easy to see why Oborne's journalistic instincts, as well as his enthusiasm for the game, attracted him to a history of Pakistan cricket. It has drama, intrigue, politics, heroism, villainy, and quite a bit of violence. A decade ago, Oborne wrote a brilliant and moving biography of the South-African-born cricketer Basil D'Oliveira. Alas, the task of creating a similarly coherent and uplifting narrative out of Pakistan cricket is beyond even his considerable writing skills; two-thirds of the way through, he abandons the attempt, comparing himself rather grandly to Gibbon trying to chart the declining centuries of the Roman empire, and opts for a thematic treatment of the last 20 years.

All the same, for anyone wanting to understand the complexities of Pakistan cricket or to relive its many days of glory, this is as good as it's likely to get. Handicapped by the paucity of reliable written sources, Oborne interviewed dozens of Pakistani players, coaches, administrators and commentators, and sometimes put himself in physical danger to get at the truth, though it often remains elusive.

One academic critic defined the genre of magic realism as "what happens when a highly detailed, realistic setting is invaded by something too strange to believe". This perfectly captures the essence of Pakistan cricket, which Oborne describes as "magical and marvellous". Perhaps that's the best way to read this book: as a non-fiction version of magic realism.


http://www.theguardian.com/books/20...ry-of-cricket-pakistan-review-heroes-villains
 
Reading this books these days really very very good book and a must read for any Pakistani cricket fan.
 
Locked in the lavatory...that's just not cricket: A history of the sport in Pakistan

Peter Oborne re-visits the match-fixing case involving Mohammad Amir
Pakistani cricketers historically played for teams sponsored by the armed forces, police, or government departments
The Taliban turn out to be keen cricketers, although Al-Qaeda are less keen

One of the many strange things about Pakistani cricket is that the aggression, the competitiveness and the bloody-mindedness the team displays on the pitch are nothing compared with what goes on in the dressing room.

Reading Peter Oborne’s splendidly eccentric, if at times understandably exasperated, history of Pakistan cricket, I lost track of the number of times a player threw a tremendous strop and stomped off into the sunset.

Matters were not helped when Saeed Ahmed, booked to go out to bat at the fall of the first wicket, locked himself in the bathroom and refused to come out, Oborne notes wearily of the first Test against England in 1967. Only a few pages later, Saeed Ahmed is at it again, this time going AWOL on a shopping trip with his wife.

On one occasion, in 1976, the Pakistan squad was riven by such dissent that two separate teams turned up to contest the second Test against New Zealand, one captained by Intikhab Alam and the other by Mushtaq Mohammad. ‘Who’s coming to toss with me,’ asked the puzzled New Zealand captain, Glenn Turner, ‘Mushy or Inti?’

As Oborne points out, deep fissures have run through Pakistani cricket ever since Pakistan became a country in 1947.

To begin with, the shadow of colonialism was never far away. Much to the annoyance of local players, the cricket ground in Rawalpindi was dominated by an enormous statue of Queen Victoria. When the first Pakistan team to tour England arrived in 1954, they were treated either with lofty disdain, or baffled incomprehension by their hosts.

After each day’s play, the team would go back to their B&B to wash their kit, while their captain tried to teach them how to hold a knife and fork.

However, there was a taste of things to come when, having been comprehensively whacked in the first three Tests, Pakistan won the fourth test at the Oval by 24 runs.

Among the delighted spectators was one General Ayub Khan, who was later to mount a military coup — thereby setting in train the pattern that has bedeviled Pakistan, and Pakistani cricket, ever since.

Cricket in Pakistan was organised very differently to other countries.

Cricketers played for teams sponsored by the armed forces, police, or government departments, with the players in effect being paid to do non-existent jobs. When he was just 15, Hanif Mohammad, who became the country’s first cricketing superstar, was appointed to the post of roads inspector by the Pakistan Public Works Department.

His younger brother Mushtaq, who soon joined him in the Pakistan team, was only 12 when he became a cement clerk in the same department.

In 1958, Hanif Mohammad scored one of the greatest of all Test innings — 337 against the West Indies in Bridgetown. It took him 16 hours and 39 minutes, at the time the longest innings ever played in first-class cricket.

There were no thigh pads in those days, and so Hanif pushed bathroom towels down his trousers to try to protect himself against the West Indian fast bowlers.

Not that it did much good — afterwards, he had a deep indentation in one of his legs, while his cheekbones were black with burned blood from spending so long in the sun.

Although this is a sober — and comprehensive — history on the one hand, it’s far less dry than this description might imply. It’s also a kind of love-letter to Pakistan cricket, a salute to its fortitude and fieryness. Oborne makes no attempt to disguise his admiration for some of the country’s most notable, and controversial, figures.

Thus, the former Pakistan captain Javed Miandad, usually depicted as a colossal egomaniac, emerges in quite different colours here — as clever, courageous, and always willing to put his team’s interests above his own.

Oborne even has some sympathetic words for the fast bowler Mohammad Amir, who was found guilty of match-fixing in 2010 and imprisoned. He insists, very persuasively, that Amir was an innocent caught up in events that were way out of his control.

What becomes plain is that, in a country beset by tribal and political schisms, cricket is one of the few things that unites people.
Remarkably, the Taliban turn out to be keen cricketers, although their insistence on wearing traditional costume apparently plays havoc with their stroke play.

Even so, there are limits. Al-Qaeda have never taken to cricket, Oborne records. It seems they’ve always preferred the considerably less macho charms of volleyball.


http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/boo...ust-not-cricket-A-history-sport-Pakistan.html
 
http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/faisal-hanif/book-review-wounded-tiger_b_5680375.html

As I write this, the man widely considered as the best spin bowler in the world and Pakistan's main wicket-taking-force, is facing an investigation into his bowling action.

Additionally, Saeed Ajmal's predecessor and Pakistan's highest wicket-taking-spinner, Danish Kaneria has been refused an appeal against a life ban for match-fixing claims.

And all of this, after the Pakistan cricket team managed to lose a test match where they scored over 450 runs in their first innings and seconds before a torrential downpour which would have seen them earn a draw.

Most teams, institutions, and even nations would be in crisis mode amongst such tumultuous goings on.

Not, however, Pakistan.

Such occurrences are a rendezvous into a cricketing history that resembles more a movie director's on-screen fantasy, and less any serious sporting tradition.

When Pakistan performed a clean sweep of the 2012 Test series against, what a vacuous English cricketing fraternity was keen to emphasise at every given opportunity, as the number one ranked Test team, the triumph was remarkable for several reasons.

Chief amongst these was the fact that it took place only eighteen months after three of the nation's cricketers had brought the game and the country to its knees.

The scandal cost Pakistan its captain, premier swing bowler and world cricket's brightest young star.

And yet despite the lowest of low ebbs it was England who found themselves lost in the wilderness of Dubai and Abu Dhabi.

After the Pakwash in the desert one cricket commentator made the pertinent point that the Pakistan cricket team is probably the most interesting sports team in the world.

The double-edged statement was not lost on cricket lovers who have attempted to find some method in all the madness.

In Wounded Tiger the Daily Telegraph's chief political commentator, Peter Oborne, has not been overawed in finding some coherent narrative amongst the chaos.

Given the hostility towards Pakistan and its cricketers that has become a favourite tradition of the English press it is fitting that one of its very own sets the record straight.

Not only does Oborne provide the reality behind the myths and conspiracies, but does justice to a long misunderstood cricketing tradition.

Amongst the various revealing insights is the fact that this prejudice on part of the English is not a recent phenomenon, but an old occurrence, which includes amongst other things the kidnapping of a Pakistani umpire by England's cricketers.

The book is full of original testimonies from ex-players, officials, politicians and military men, all of whom have had a hand in the triumphs and tragedies.

Like most things in Pakistan there is not one official version for any single incident and Oborne includes the varying accounts and does well to make some sense of them.

The early chapters look at the history of cricket in pre-partition North West India, large parts of which had no history or interest in game of the imperial masters.

The establishment of cricket played a vital role in the new nation's quest to form an identity.

Various political and military establishments have used the Sport to further their own agendas and, at times, provided growth or indeed hindered the development of cricket in Pakistan. A chaotic domestic structure that is as foreign to those within the country as it is to those outside, forms an essential part of the work.

The power of the game in Pakistan is not lost among the multitude of ingredients. Cricket is the one platform that unites liberal secular, military and religious fundamental forces that are currently pulling the country in different directions.

What is revealing is that much of the political intrigue of Pakistan cricket has its roots at the very inception of the national team.

There is even a look at Pakistan's women cricketers who have not been immune from the personality clashes and power grabs that have polluted the men's game.

This fascinating section of the book tells amongst other things the battles between rival camps from Karachi and Lahore who were determined to become the pioneers for the Pakistani women cricketers.

Oborne's narrative is dominated by several central characters and families whose footprints on the landscape of Pakistan cricket are more pronounced than any others.

AH Kardar is one of these and his usurping of the dignified Mian Saeed (Pakistan's first test captain) laid down a precedent for the position to become more often than not a poison chalice.

And yet Kardar living up to his paradoxical nature was one of the very few who was able to overcome the plotting and intrigue and give his country a platform on the world stage.

Like Imran Khan with Javed Miandad, and Wasim Akram with Waqar Younis later on, Kardar owed much of the early success to a partnership as harmonious on the field as it was riddled with suspicions of it.

Fazal Mahmood was the early instigator of a fast bowling tradition that has formed the backbone of great Pakistani sides.

Oborne does well in capturing not only his achievements in bowling out a Len Hutton, Dennis Compton and Brian Statham inspired England at the Oval in 1954 but also gives the background story of a man who suffered the traumas of partition and dared to dream big.

From its very inception the newest team on a stage dominated by two old masters in Australia and England would not be subjugated easily.

Honour in defeat that has been the hallmark of each new member of the Imperial Cricket Conference (precursor to the ICC) and continues indefinitely with Bangladesh would not be Pakistan's fate.

In fact Pakistan played the biggest role in breaking the hegemony of the Ashes companions over world cricket.

From the beginning this was an untamed beast one that has failed to temper its own prodigious nature and at times turned on itself. Humiliated one day inspired the next.

Wounded Tiger, much like its subject, has something for everyone. For the die-hards it provides pride in a tradition that gave the world reverse swing and the 'doosra'; a delivery that has fundamentally altered the off-spinners role within a cricket team.

On the other hand there are reality checks aplenty and sombre lessons of what could have been with more stable and competent administrations.

For the more academic-minded there is history, politics, war, tribalism and geography- all important features and factors in the story of how the gentleman's game became Pakistan's obsession.

And for everyone else there is a cast of heroes, villains, anti- heroes and rags to riches stories all wrapped up in a narrative of nation building, diplomacy, match fixing, terrorism, innovation and the quest for glory and national honour.
 
i read the book last week and found it a good read, heres my review for anyone interested

more than a documentary account of cricket in Pakistan this book feels like a lovingly written novel, in which the central characters of the story develop influenced by, and later influencing the unique pastiche of cultural and socio-economic facets that define pakistani cricket.

even for the avid pakistan cricket fan the passages focussed on the colonial and early academic institution driven development of cricket in pakistan are educational. this book has been thoroughly researched and in the first two thirds at least, written with exceptionally subtlety.

the final third of the book is more like a collection of essays of the most important developments in pakistan cricket, one feels that oborne may have been driven to this decision for lack of a protagonist of the likes of kardar, fazal, javed or imran to anchor the recent developments in pakistan cricket around. whilst still brilliantly researched the pace of the book stutters in this passage and fails to enlighten educated readers beyond what was already fairly well known.

pakistan cricket was a product of the passions of a few determined individuals, and in allowing that passion to be reflected in his writing, the author has written a truly heart felt account which will go down as one of the most comprehensive, exceptionally versed and well researched sporting books of all time.
 
Just started reading it now, got a copy off my Uncle (with some signatures from some illustrious names) who does some writing about Pakistani cricket, and barely half way through the first chapter, recounting the frankly amazing stories about Fazal Mahmood and more surprisingly his father and his role in driving the British out of India and the subsequent affect that would have on his son, as many of you say on here, his potential death traveling between the newly formed countries.
 
Indeed interesting considering CK Nayadu was born in 1895 and Fazal Mahmood was born in 1927, which means CK Nayadu was 32 years old when Fazal was born. Does Peter Oborne present any dates to the incident? I'm not denying or refuting his research. It is just that the age gap is a bit too huge, and I am curious to know more.

1947 (I would assume).. Fazal would be 20, and Nayadu 52.. I dont see how age matters
 
There is farce in Peter Oborne’s history of cricket in Pakistan. An impossible umpire is abducted by drunken English tourists and imprisoned in their hotel. Political uncertainty leads to the selection of rival captains and players for the same match against New Zealand. An ageing Pakistan cricketer is ruled out of a one-day international after eating a surfeit of spinach.

There is tragedy, too. England toured Pakistan in 1968-69, during the strife which ultimately led to the bloody separation of West and East Pakistan (modern day Bangladesh). The players landed in Karachi, in West Pakistan, which was under a curfew. The tension was such that they were billeted in a hotel near the airport, should they need to escape.

There was little cricket, save for a few games in the President of the Pakistan Cricket Board’s distant powerbase and an unsatisfactory Test match in Lahore, which was stopped prematurely by the edict of Gen. Ayub Khan, the ailing dictator of Pakistan.

The tourists were then flown across the subcontinent for an unscheduled Test in Dacca (later Dhaka), which was in the middle of a war zone. Gen. Ayub was losing control of his country; cricket was to be the means of reuniting it. The British government and the English cricket authorities were complicit in this dangerous political theatre.

The Foreign Office told the players that the absence of Pakistan security forces in Dacca made the city safer because their presence only incited violence among the supporters of the separatist Awami League. The players saw things differently. Armed agitators patrolled the streets in search of “corrupt” sympathisers of Gen. Ayub. John Snow, the fast bowler, recalls how people were “bound and gagged and tossed into the river to drown”. Others were simply shot.

It is incredible that the Test match proceeded; but it did. Oborne adds to the surreal atmosphere by describing the game in loving detail. We are told, for instance, how Basil D’Oliveira (the subject of Oborne’s previous cricket book) regarded the unbeaten 114 he scored there as the finest of his illustrious career. His reason was the treacherous wicket (never mind the murderous surroundings). The match petered out into a draw, which was perhaps for the best because God knows what a result might have inspired.

Chaos triumphed soon afterwards. The third Test, played at Karachi, was abandoned following a crowd riot. The England team fled Pakistan immediately. Gen. Ayub resigned, and his designated successor, Gen. Yahya Khan, imposed martial law. Cricket had failed in its forlorn hope of keeping the peace. It is a recurring theme of this book, but it is not dominant.

Wounded Tiger is political and social history of Pakistan told through the medium of cricket. Oborne begins with the development of cricket during the Raj and ends with Pakistan’s present sporting isolation, a legacy of the turmoil that has engulfed the country post-9/11. (The Americans emerge from this account as self-interested apologists for Pakistan’s military dictators.

Oborne has included some choice anecdotes to bear this out, although he might have added the occasion when George W. Bush joined Gen. Musharraf in a photo opportunity with the Pakistan cricket team, some of whom at that stage were gripped by overt religiosity, complete with beards and incantations to Allah. Dubya didn’t know where to look.)

Partition and sectarianism are a louring presence throughout. Indeed, the story might have been different had it not been for the bravery of the Indian cricket legend C.K. Nayudu, who, in scenes reminiscent of the closing pages of The Jewel in the Crown, defended his travelling companion, the future Pakistan opening bowler Fazal Mahmood, from Hindu fanatics roaming abroad in search of Muslims to slaughter. Nayudu beat them away with his cricket bat. The symbolism of this event passes description.

Oborne argues that cricket “can be understood as a sporting manifestation of Jinnah’s Pakistan movement”, vibrant, confident and open. Most readers will be aware of the greats of Pakistan cricket and their contribution to the country. Oborne presents Imran Khan, Fazal Mahmood and A.H. Kardar as “nation builders”, and devotes a lot of space to their efforts and reminiscences. Fewer readers will have heard about women’s cricket in Pakistan, or cricket in tribal areas. Even (some of) the Taliban play the game; Oborne has heard of how these warlords bowl and bat while wearing their billowing shalwar kameez.

Pakistan cricket is, as Oborne says, a “magical and marvellous” thing to behold. While the country falls through successive catastrophes, cricket gives hope for the future.

http://www.deccanchronicle.com/140819/lifestyle-booksart/article/farce-and-heroism-pakistani-cricket
 
This book just gets better and better.

I'm up to the 1992 World Cup which should be a fascinating read. So far the level of detail and the analysis of the characters of the main players for Pakistan over the years has been brilliant. You get a real feel for the personalities, the complexity of the characters of the players, the trouble-makers, who was mistreated and who wasn't.

Super work from Oborne.
 
I took this book on holiday last week and just couldn't put it down. Read it cover to cover in a few days and found it utterly absorbing and fascinating in every way. It kind of slips away at the end so the present isn't dealt with in as much detail but the post war history particularly life and characters of hanif, kardar and fazal are rich and complex often invoke great emotion as if we are experiencing these events first hand. This is really highlighted in the birth of the country and partition. Many other aspects such as bowling innovations and the relations between players are well know but written with so much colour. I especially like the re telling of javed and imran relationship. This is a must read for any Pakistani cricket fan. I wonder what others think?
 
Great to see that Wisden have chosen this as their book of the year.
 
“It is hard to come to grips with the set of values which led [Gatting] to take such a strong stand against allegedly poor Pakistan umpiring, yet be relaxed enough about apartheid to take a rebel squad to South Africa,” writes Oborne on Gatting’s finger-wagging spat in 1987. He concludes that “Gatting’s temperament was not equal to the stresses of the tour”.

Seems very easy to me. The umpiring was not "allegedly poor" - it was atrocious and partisan at times. Deliberate revenge for the Constant business in 1987. Not always partisan, because I remember Qadir getting a total shocker too, and refusing to walk.

Gatting was a very straightforward English bloke with a strong sense of fairness, who was out of his intellectual depth on the world stage. He did OK in places like AUS and NZ but when he visited a different culture he was clueless, sadly. That was shown in Pakistan and then SA on the rebel tour.

His old boss Mike Brearley would have kept control and buttoned his lip, then lodged a complaint with the ICC. And not gone to SA, of course.
 
Just read the lines posted by some posters looks very interesting.
 
Bought this book recently. The depth of research from Oborne is phenomenal.

I prefer it to The Unquiet Ones which was also a good effort, especially insightful on the Qayyum Report, but the author too often descends into cliche and hyperbole.

Oborne paints such a vivid picture of Pakistan cricket's early years and its key figures from the autocratic captain turned administrator AH Kardar, the tireless Fazal Mahmood and the lone warrior Hanif Mohammad.

Without them, Pakistan were at least able to tread water long enough in international cricket to justify its place at the top table.
 
*With them

Another thing Oborne does well is place each era of Pakistani cricket within its historical context. He covers with startling detail how cricket is impacted as the East descends into violence in 1971.

Pakistani players literally have to be escorted by the military to safety in Dhaka during one of the games vs The International XI. One of the squad members, the Bengali Raqibul Hasan, is telling his West Pakistan teammates they'll need visas next time they come to Dhaka.

I can't even imagine an equivalent scenario today. The New Zealanders went home after a flimsy threat, yet unbelievably these guys were playing as the country was breaking up.

Still about 200+ pages to go !
 
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Bought this book recently. The depth of research from Oborne is phenomenal.

I prefer it to The Unquiet Ones which was also a good effort, especially insightful on the Qayyum Report, but the author too often descends into cliche and hyperbole.

Oborne paints such a vivid picture of Pakistan cricket's early years and its key figures from the autocratic captain turned administrator AH Kardar, the tireless Fazal Mahmood and the lone warrior Hanif Mohammad.

Without them, Pakistan were at least able to tread water long enough in international cricket to justify its place at the top table.

Unquiet Ones is good for what it is. An easily digestible history of Pakistan cricket. But I agree in that the amount of effort and research put into Wounded Tiger is simply astounding. Because Samiuddin is such a great writer he is able to weave his opinions and analogies on Pakistan cricket into the history which makes it an enjoyable read. But Oborne's book is a much more complete and detailed historical account.

Personally however, I would recommend both to anyone interested in the history of Pakistan cricket.
 
Don’t see the hype surrounded this book. Gave it a read years ago and didn’t find it worthy enough to keep it in my illustrious collection.

Just the usual cliche-infested and heavily-romanticized take on Pakistan cricket. Like your average Pakistan fan, Peter Oborne also seems to have a taste for celebrating mediocrity.
 
Don’t see the hype surrounded this book. Gave it a read years ago and didn’t find it worthy enough to keep it in my illustrious collection.

Just the usual cliche-infested and heavily-romanticized take on Pakistan cricket. Like your average Pakistan fan, Peter Oborne also seems to have a taste for celebrating mediocrity.

which cricket books do you recommend?

I have been trying for ages to get Wasim akram's and miandad's autobiographies
 
Don’t see the hype surrounded this book. Gave it a read years ago and didn’t find it worthy enough to keep it in my illustrious collection.

Just the usual cliche-infested and heavily-romanticized take on Pakistan cricket. Like your average Pakistan fan, Peter Oborne also seems to have a taste for celebrating mediocrity.

That's because you have something against:

1. Pakistan
2. Pakistan cricket
3. Imran Khan

Of course you didn't find it of interest!

My suggestion for your views to be taken seriously in this thread is to offer something more substantive as an argument such as which parts are not good, why etc - those kinds of things. Anything else falls under "usual rant" category.
 
which cricket books do you recommend?

I have been trying for ages to get Wasim akram's and miandad's autobiographies

My suggestion is that you read this and understand how important cricket is to Pakistan and history of cricket in the country.

If you are looking for masala then yes look elsewhere.
 
which cricket books do you recommend?

I have been trying for ages to get Wasim akram's and miandad's autobiographies

Haven’t read many because I am not a fan of sports literature, but I would recommend Beyond a Boundary, arguably the most famous and most revered cricket book of all time.
 
which cricket books do you recommend?

I have been trying for ages to get Wasim akram's and miandad's autobiographies

Autobiographies are overrated. They are always heavily biased, largely fictitious and an attempt at rewriting history.
 
That's because you have something against:

1. Pakistan
2. Pakistan cricket
3. Imran Khan

Of course you didn't find it of interest!

My suggestion for your views to be taken seriously in this thread is to offer something more substantive as an argument such as which parts are not good, why etc - those kinds of things. Anything else falls under "usual rant" category.

The whole book. A more fitting title would have been “I love Pakistan cricket”.
 
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