Karachi Chronicles Chapter 18

After a fantastic but draining tournament, we had one last official engagement. On the final night, we attended the closing ceremony, which was conveniently held in the cavernous function room at our hotel. This was probably the final time I would get to wear my Australian blazer and was likely the last chance to see many of my opponents. Some teams were even scheduled to depart later that night, straight after the ceremony, so it was definitely the last hurrah.

Similar to the opening ceremony, towards the front there were rows of plush seats reserved for the many dignitaries. If you hadn’t already noticed that it was a big deal for the locals, then I guess the presence of government officials, cricket board hierarchy and many ex-test cricketers wasn’t going to sway your opinion. Seated at our team's round table, just observing the opulence and aforementioned guests, all I could do was shake my head and ask myself how I ended up here, for maybe the thousandth time.

Although the set up was world class and we were in the presence of scores of legendary cricketers, the event was really hard to get into. I mean this without any disrespect, as my entire time at the tournament was an experience I will still remember on my death bed. However, after more than two weeks of toiling in the Karachi heat, I think I wasn’t the only one who struggled through the event. Regardless, this event was more a celebration for the many people who made this event a huge success. With homesickness starting to envelope my core, I’m glad I still pushed through and supported it all the way until the end.

Seeing all the locals receive a multitude of awards and mementos further confirmed that attending this tournament was the right choice. Watching all these people receive their moment of recognition, really put it into perspective. To organise an event of this size is a mammoth undertaking. Lead by Fawad Ijaz Khan and with hundreds of people pouring their energy in, without such a concerted effort there wouldn’t have been this life altering experience. For us, we got to play quality cricket in a less travelled destination and for the locals they got to showcase the local scene. As this wave of realisation swept over me, I sat up a little straighter in my chair and pushed through my exhaustion. 

Later in the event they held a Q&A panel, featuring a few legends of Pakistan cricket. Among the best yarns was one from Abdul Razak, who had smashed us around a couple of days prior. He recounted a one-day game against Australia in Cardiff during 2001. Early on, Mark Waugh chunked one off Shoaib Akhtar towards the off-side boundary. Shohaib Malik put in the long chase followed by a big dive, then flicked the ball back just inches from the boundary and flew metres beyond the rope. Triumphantly dusting himself off and spinning around, to his dismay, he saw there was no one around to help out. So by the time he climbed back to his feet and lobbed the ball in, they had managed to run five.

Shohaib had fabulously turned a certain 4 into a 5. Meanwhile, as he furiously chased the pill, Abdul had been urging him to just kick it over the whole time. Coincidentally, Moin Khan also regaled us with a similar tale from the Adelaide oval later on. So I guess the take home message is, next time you play against Pakistan be on the look out for the elusive 5 all run! I also feel it's a great parallel to life itself. Often you can try too hard and end up making a situation worse than it would have been if you just let it play out on it's intended trajectory.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, a “Team of the Tournament” was named to honour the best players. From the Australian team, we had one member receive this illustrious honour. It was fitting recognition for a great member of our squad, who also happened to be my long suffering room mate, Leardy. It’s kind of funny that just moments before his big moment we were hastily packing all the stuff we’d collected over our stay and panicking about weight limits. To further highlight how mentally cooked we were, I miscalculated my bag weight and threw heaps of stuff out. Using the bathroom scales, only on the third check did I realise, I was actually down to twenty kilograms*.

Leardy, from the Central Coast, is a fantastic pace bowler, devastating batsmen and top-notch fielder. Being an accomplished baseballer, you probably wouldn’t expect anything else. Funnily enough, as a man of actions more than words, you won’t hear that directly from him. Personally, I was so stoked to see him take a heap of poles and blast a few big zacs during our excursion.

We got along well for the whole trip, probably due to his laid back nature. I think the dichotomy in our various personalities also helped us coexist under the conditions. My hyperactivity and carry on was tempered by his calm, cool collectiveness. Almost like some kind of yin and yang scenario but with more sweating and toilet flushing. I learnt a lot from Leardy’s wisdom over the trip but will respect his humble nature and basically leave it at the following. Cheers for putting up with me and thanks for being a rad roomie.

With his permission, I will also bring up the following little yarn. Living in close quarters, I was speaking to my mother on the phone after we returned from our crushing semi final loss to Pakistan. Early in the conversation she brought up the dropped catch I mentioned in the previous chapter. With Leardy sprawled on the neighbouring bed well within earshot, mum asked “who the hell was that bloke that dropped the catch off you? He needs to learn how to catch! (sic)” Awkwardly, I retorted, “mum he can hear you, and which of the drops were you talking about?”

Leardy, being the good bloke he is, laughed it off while we both shook our heads in amazement. At any rate I guess we can see where some of the directness comes from when, as Ando would say, I go “full Sleahya.” Just to clarify, as we all know no one means to drop them and we’ve all done it before. There was no bad blood in any of this, only just a bit of banter among family and friends. Once again, luckily Leardy is the chilled one because it could have added an extra little bit of spice when you have to share a room afterwards.

Once Leardy finished up on stage with all the other award recipients, the formalities soon concluded. This was followed by the inevitable round of goodbyes before we returned to our quarters and completed the last of the packing. In between rounds of stuffing our possessions away the were a bunch of knocks at the door. So many of our new mates from the other teams made the effort to swing by and say a final farewell. Although I hate goodbyes, this was really special as it encapsulates just how strong the camaraderie is across our over 40’s scene.

Over the course of the following hours, it continued on in what felt like a school camp vibe. With everything eventually chucked out or packed, a few would party on while others would restlessly try and sleep. Being so exhausted I opted for the later. With all the boxes ticked, I was now looking forward to seeing my wife and eighteen month old son. I’m not going to lie, there was some apprehension at leaving my family alone but with our departure now only hours away the homesickness really kicked in.

I feel that the most important part of pulling off a trip this large, is having that great support network at home. There is no way I would have thought of travelling all the way to Pakistan if they weren’t onboard. Fortunately my wife, as cliched as it sounds, was my number one supporter. So, I’ll close out this chapter with a huge thank you to not only my family but all the lad’s families that enabled us to go on this epic journey. Without you there would have been no Pakistan and by extension zero chronicles!

* Our baggage limit was 32 kilograms and I hadn't got the math right due to my frazzled brain at the time.