Our cricketing hero..es.

"O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;.."

Are the lines from a Walt Whitman poem....but I remember them chiefly because of 'Dead Poets Society", an academy-award winning movie. The poem was written to pay homage to the assassinated American president, Abraham Lincoln....and was also translated into Hebrew by an Israeli poet to be sung at Yatzak Rabin's memorial. But that's mere referencing from popular culture.

I also want to pay homage....to our cricketing heroes. To my captain, who has to be Imran Khan - also because it was his leadership that brought Pakistan it's most glorious sporting moment, and also because he is a class act with a personality that shines through even when quelching mud. Okay, that's a misplaced metaphor but I am in the mood of waxing poetic, and there's something called poetic license, too.

I am euphoric because Pakistan just pulled off its greatest run chase - and the glacier on the cake is that it was against our arch-rivals; our perennial-foes; the nation we have been raised to hate: India.

We had lost the first match like a circus lion doing the rounds......atleast I felt worse than the sprawling on the floor boxer knocked out by Tyson without having a chance to throw a punch even. We had put up a decent total in the 1st ODI....atleast by the standards of Gwalior....but the Indian batting line-up showed its superiority...and our bowling attack its mediocrity when fighting for a lost cause.

But today......chasing a mamooth 322......we showed class. Which was shown earlier by the Indian batsmen. Tendulkar was in blazing form. The way he accelerated the scoring rate remins one of the cliche 'form is temporary; class is permanent', although the man of every moment was rather unlucky to get out on 99 - for a third time. That's another unique record for the master blaster.

Umar Gul bowled with a lot of heart and was instrumental in putting the breaks on the Indian scoring rate by taking the key wicket of Tendulkar. All our bowlers chipped in and although Harbhajan blasted a quick-fire 35 at the end, we were able to keep the Indian total to a lot less than what appeared when Tendulkar held sway.

Our reply started off in jitters as usual, as we haven't had a stable opening partnership since the times of Saeed Anwar and Aamir Sohail. Salman Butt played some stylish shots but perished to a concentration lapse. But there was Younus Khan....who scored a majestic hundred, and though Youhana failed for once, 20-20 man Misbah finally put in a worthwhile ODI innings...but they both perished before completing the job. And in came the man who reflects the Pakistani temparent most honetly - the evergreen Shahid Khan Afridi...and for the first time in his life, he was able to hit the winning runs. A memorable win.......especially in context of the overall gloomy scenario that engulfs Pakistan, a state of emergency being imposed, and rumours rife that the Army Act can be amended. Which essentially means, dear unsuspecting chootyas(or civilians), that civilans can be court martialled. Our very own Guntanamo bay.

But returning to paying homage....to certain cricketers who are a mere haze in the head. I remember dozing off between deliveries as Pakistan battled England in the '92 world cup final. It was Ramazan. It was the most glorious moment of my life...too bad I was very young then.

But one year down the line......November 5, 1993: It was the Australasia Cup final, and Pakistan was playing the mighty West Indies...with its intimidating pace-attack. But out-stepped the indomitable Basit Ali ....relatively unknown but hailed in Pakistan as the next Javed Miandad...as much for his unorthodox playing style and the fact that he, too, hails from Karachi. He smashed a century of only 67 balls.....the second fastest at that time. But Basit Ali was destined to be a flash in the pan.....as his knock of a lifetime was un-done by Brian Charles Lara - who scored a magnificent 152....laced with a record 21 boundaries, emulating the great Viv Richards, which was later bettered by Saeed Anwar in his record breaking 194 against India.

But back to Basit...he was dropped for Shadab Kabir....a prolific batsman on the domestic circuit...but his first three innings fetched him three ducks and I don't think he ever got another call from the selectors. But that was the end of Basit, too, who was also mired in controversy after blaming certain team-mates of match-fixing. So Basit Ali vanished off the screen...but I still retain the memory of him bludgeoning the West Indian pace quartet.

While there are numerous stories regarding his sudden dumping by the Pakistan Cricket Board.....and the ethnic and sectarian preferences within the team, all I want to remember is him hooking and driving Ambrose all over the park. That is the memory in my head....all the rest is claptrap.

O Captain! My Captain! You should have been.