Pakistan Super League (PSL) has been a spectacular success. From roaring stadiums in probably the world’s most workaholic country-UAE to electrifying buzz across its home country-Pakistan, it has invigorated a nation which had almost lost its interest in sports, bringing the love back home. Where the media had capitalized on the Indo-Pak rivalry, day-to-day political happenings, and security situation, Cricket matches were becoming too trivial. Pakistan, formerly a great sporting nation, was on the brink of losing a part of its identity, a piece of what actually means to #bleedgreen.
And then came PSL…
Given the foreign venues and our ensuing financial constraints, it was unfair to expect PSL to be as glorious as other Cricket leagues around the globe. However, in a foreign country with a half-filled stadium, Pakistani Cricket fans raving thousands of miles away couldn’t wish for anything better. They were hooked. They were finally watching what they had always dreamed of. It was everywhere. It was in their music. It was in their dances. Whether it be relishing in the feeling of being a Pakistani, listening to Ali Zafar on a grand stage, or admiring the whirling dervishes as the Qalandars marched in. No longer do we have to resort to local channels to see our people; to feel our culture. Pakistaniat is a global phenomenon now.
The PSL effect has gone viral. It is felt across boundaries. From our massively followed Karachi vs. Lahore matches, to the politically correct Wafaaq jokes and naming players like Tait Khan Yousafzai and Kevin Achakzai. It goes to show how much the fans endear and cherish this sport. Feeling it to be more than a sporting league, it has made Pakistanis smile in the face of adversity. It has made them dance. It has made us all feel a bit more Pakistani.
PSL offers a fresh outlook on a centuries old game by introducing to the quintessential Pakistani fan a unique experience; city based rivalry. This experience of being in a room full of fans with different allegiances with roars of delight over both wickets and sixes. The thumping of chest and fist-pumping towards friends, who now supports the opposition team. Of course, this has been present in other sports for decades, if not centuries, but it’s still new for us Pakistanis.
This year, PSL allowed us to imagine the frenzy when the fans will cheer for Zalmis in Peshawar; celebrate every United six in Rawalpindi; experience Qalandars and Kings’ rivalry at Gaddafi and National Stadium; shout as Muhammad Amir runs into bowling; the audience’s attempt to catch the bowl when Umar Akmal hits it towards the stands; to cheer ‘Afridi, Afridi’ when Pakistan’s wonder kid raises his arms.
Above everything else, PSL is what it means to play proper Cricket. Misbah-ul-Haq said at the presentation ceremony, “Playing in PSL feels like International Cricket.” It’s the quality of Cricket combined with the passion and emotion that hence sets it apart. We saw it all in the PSL this year as teammates got involved in a tussle in a league game. We all remember Sammy’s red eyes when Zalmi lost the first playoff and King Viv’s exuberant celebration when Quetta won the playoff. Such incidents happen only in highly intense international games, but in PSL, such bursts of emotions became regular, especially in the playoffs. Disappointment over misfields. Sighs of relief over batting landmarks. No easy run and no easy wicket. No mediocre smasher getting fifties and no quality pacers getting whacked.
The biggest headline makers have been the Quetta Gladiators. The often-neglected capital of Baluchistan, Quetta was ironically mentioned more amongst the people during the tournament than it had been throughout the country’s history. The final of Quetta versus Islamabad got the nation bustling as well. Wafaaq jokes apart; there was almost something romantic about Quetta being the primary star of Pakistan’s biggest product as if it were the protagonist of its greatest film. The whole city, deprived of its share by successive governments and divided by sectarian violence, watched the final in combined numbers at Bugti Stadium. While all may not be well in the deserted streets of Quetta, but for those twenty days, PSL probably made its people feel a part of Pakistan more than they might have ever felt.
‘I celebrate the PSL because the PSL is Pakistani and I celebrate Pakistan because it is mine.’
