Pakistan trade flair for resilience

Perhaps because we're not used to seeing it, we don't often acknowledge it anymore. Pakistani teams, especially during the 1990s, were many things; freakishly but fitfully brilliant, electric now, flat then. The line between success and failure was often thin enough to be impoverished, delicately balanced on feats of stupendous individual skill; a spell from Wasim here, one from Waqar there, a virtuoso from Saeed Anwar's wrists or an Inzamam special. Performances were ethereal and success came from an explosion of an individual or two, while failure from an implosion of the collective. If a win often resulted in a streak of them, so too did a loss. Not often was there anything tangible - solidity or resilience - in between.

The loss of the two Ws and Saeed has been much mourned in Pakistan - it still is. But since the World Cup, and especially over the last year, a squad of players has emerged within Pakistan with a spine steely enough to cope with positions and situations of despair, often made worse through makeshift resources.

Mohali last week was an exceptional and spectacular addition to a growing body of evidence. The wins in Lahore against the Indians, after the Multan massacre, and at Karachi against Sri Lanka after Sanath Jayasuriya had mauled them at Faisalabad were admirable demonstrations. Even within the 3-0 whitewash in Australia, there were glimpses after Perth that this Pakistan is not as ready to roll over as previous sides.

Tellingly, they have found this spirit collectively and through a variety of sources, players such as Asim Kamal, the leader Inzamam, Danish Kaneria, Younis Khan, Yousuf Youhana and recently Kamran Akmal and Abdul Razzaq. Calcutta, over two days, has highlighted this trait most emphatically. They were written off after the first two sessions had yielded 225 runs and two wickets; a big total on the cards, Harbhajan Singh in tow and a heavy defeat to follow. But the response was communal, conceived by Shahid Afridi's dismissal of Tendulkar, continued by Abdul Razzaq's two wickets in two balls and concluded yesterday by Danish Kaneria's extraction of Rahul Dravid. Not a starry individual performance in sight, it was fitting that each of the three picked up a wicket today to end the Indian innings.

Maybe because they are not as extravagantly gifted as their predecessors, they succeed occasionally by concentrating on the basics. They chased leather much of yesterday but they did it with commitment, discipline and passion. Afridi's bullish presence at the faltering top of the order today was crucial, but more so was the recognition by Younis Khan and Yousuf Youhana of the most underappreciated of cricketing basics; the art of running as a weapon.

Zaheer Abbas, in a recent interview with WAC, recalled how Asif Iqbal and Javed Miandad had run the Indians ragged when chasing 164 during the memorable chase in Karachi in 1978-79. They had, he said, run singles that should never have been run, they converted twos into threes. It was, reckons Abbas, the invention of modern day one-day running as we know it. The Australians, of course, have reclaimed the aggressive, cheeky run of an ODI and refashioned it for the Test game.

Today, Youhana and Younis stole, created, nurdled, Deflected and angled runs, cheeky in nature but decisive in spirit. With three in the covers, a slip and short leg, they relentlessly pursued an international version of tip and run, interspersed freely with boundaries. Each run chipped away at a sizeable total and at India's patience. In an innings of 66 overs, there were seven maidens. Not since Miandad himself, and usually against India, had there been such an exhibition.

There is, of course, a proviso - there still is with Pakistan - and the threat of disintegration always loiters. It has happened also in the last year and the prospect of chasing runs on this pitch remains an uneasy one, but what you cannot do is write them off even after that. They might go down here, but they will not, you suspect, be out. What must now be acknowledged, after Mohali, after Calcutta, after Karachi and Lahore, is that this vintage of Pakistanis, while not possessing the sparkle of before, is made of sterner stuff.