The Original

An original: that is Abdul Qadir, Pakistan's wizard of spin. Abdul the Bulbul was a name he traded under. Abdul, master of legspin, aka Googly. A sometime bearded assassin, who reignited a lost art in spin's dark ages, an alchemist who transformed leather into gold. I assert that Qadir was a magician, peerless in this mystic order, a weaver of spells to equal--yes, believe it--the spellbinder of the last decade, Shane Warne.

Qadir's beginnings were humble--a lump of wood for a cricket bat and a stone for a ball--but it was a generation of batsmen who were humbled by his unsurpassed variety, passion, and aggression. Qadir was a legspinner with the instincts of a fast bowler, a trait he shares with Warne, the other great leg break bowler of the modern era. A whirling action, the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a dervish, and an appeal that cried out to the soul of umpires were his hallmarks. He had legbreaks, flippers, googlies--a delivery that Warne has never really possessed--and he had mesmerism.

Pakistan's greatest spinner did not have it easy, however. He had to prove himself in domestic cricket in Pakistan at a time when such cricket mattered and a poor background didn't, and he had to overcome the scepticism of an age that had lost sight of the value of legspin. Moreover, he needed a champion, and Imran Khan, whose promotion to Pakistan's captaincy was a testament to the chaos theory, provided the backbone that Qadir required to win his case in board rooms and selection meetings.

In short, Qadir was a sensation. The leading wicket taker in Pakistan's domestic cricket, propelled to star status on Pakistan's 1982 tour of England, a tour that both announced Imran's captaincy and Pakistan's arrival as a serious cricketing power. England's batsmen were flummoxed by his whirling variety, a sense of fear creeping through their uncertain hearts. At the other end, Imran charged in to hurl his sand shoe crushers and complete a bowling partnership that would propel Pakistan to the top tier of international cricket. Above all, Qadir's bowling was a performance art, a delight to behold.

But it was a performance against West Indies that secured his legend. Taking six wickets, he plunged a mighty batting order boasting Vivian Richards, Gordon Greenidge, Desmond Haynes, and Richie Richardson into chaos: all out for 53 on a dusty track in Faisalabad. That was not his only startling performance, for when Qadir cast his spell wickets would tumble like a landslide. His best return was nine wickets, in an innings against England in1987-8 at his home ground of Lahore, helping him to a career total of 236.

It would have been more. But at times, Imran's power of persuasion waned and Qadir was an easy scapegoat, an attacking legspinner who could be expensive. At other times Qadir's strong-headedness lead him into confrontation with colleagues and officials. None the less, ask any Pakistan player of his generation, including Imran and Javed Miandad--ask the man himself--and they will tell you that no legspinner has ever matched Qadir's mastery, not even Warne.

How, then, to explain Warne's superior record? Warne's Australia has been a stronger team than Pakistan were in the 1980s--and that must help. In addition, Warne's genius was quickly acclaimed by his own countrymen and the world, while the petty politics and myopia that engulfs Pakistan cricket meant that Qadir's career was always a struggle. And finally--Qadir, Imran, and Javed would argue this--umpires today are much more sympathetic to the legspinner's art in their decision making than their predecessors ever were.

In the end, though, these are subjective judgements and statistics matter a little but what matters most is the enjoyment that Qadir gave cricket fans. And this was not as a consequence of any flippancy or tomfoolery. Qadir was--and remains--a deeply principled, vastly talented, and intensely dedicated man. Hours of hard work and gallons of passion and devotion to his art created a whirling dervish of a spin bowler.

The love many of us have for his bowling originated with Qadir's own love for the cricket ball, its shape, movement, and possibilities. All of this pleasure from a cricketer who started out as a batsman--whose batsmanship would one day reduce Courtney Walsh to tears--with barely a paisa to rub together. Abdul Qadir was Pakistan's greatest ever legbreak bowler, and by the judgement of his teammates, the greatest ever.