Karachi Chronicles Chapter 7

Bringing international cricket matches to Pakistan, even if just a bunch of us old blokes, was a key objective for our trip. From the moment we set foot in the country all the way up until the present, with some help from the power of social media, we most certainly brought some added joy to many Pakistani cricket lovers. No doubt, in return the lives of all touring members were mutually enriched. During the three weeks in Karachi, there were scores of social engagements and meetings with the locals but one in particular felt most special and underscored the ethos of our trip.

Pre-trip we were very fortunate to be in frequent contact with the Australian High Commission to Pakistan. From all the reports I heard and received, our official contacts were very impressed by and supportive of our tour. With the trip fast approaching and the correspondence bouncing back and forth, an invite to attend the Karachi Girl’s cricket final as part of an Australian envoy was offered. This is an annual event funded by the Australian High Commission, which encourages young women to participate in cricket. Due to our schedule, this was an optional engagement for the team. Unsurprisingly, every single one of us took up the opportunity, which reflected the significance of the event and how much it meant to us all.

Early in the first week on tour, coinciding with one of our rest days, the much anticipated moment came around. To kick things off we were scheduled to meet Neil Hawkins, the High Commissioner, and his envoy for lunch in one of the hotel’s conference rooms. Before hand, I’d already managed to spy Neil and bail him up for a couple of quick chats. This was another quirk of life in the security bubble at the hotel. Although it was sometimes hard to find your own space, it was also a really unique situation where you'd run into people and have these random conversations.

From just a couple of brief yarns, I could already tell he had the right passion for his job. After bumping into him a second time, as he headed off to a business meeting, I distinctly remember glancing out the window from the top story of the PC hotel. Waiting for my video call to connect, over looking the swarming traffic below, I had a brief moment to reflect on my privileged position. Of the billions of people on the planet and the millions that play the game of cricket, how was I one of the lucky few to get here. Fortunately the call connected shortly after and there wasn’t enough time to get emotional. However, I was thoroughly galvanised about being in the right place against whatever odds stood in the way and was more than ready to meet the High Commission team for a great day out.

Everyone arrived at the meeting on time, which wasn’t always a given, even though we were staying on the property. As the saying goes, familiarity breeds complacency. Obviously, most of us don’t usually make diplomatic appearances on behalf of the Australian Government, so there wasn’t an ounce of complacency in the building on this day. Besides ourselves and Neil, at the meeting were also Neil's wife, an Australian staff member and a local Pakistani staff member*. After picking through tea and finger foods, we had a round of formalities. Unfortunately most of the detail washed straight over me as I was that excited about going out to the event that I struggled to stay in the moment, briefly.

When our introductions and briefing concluded we departed in our convoy with the army. Meanwhile, the local staff tagged along under their own specific arrangements. We sped through the blocked off streets and soon arrived at the now familiar, National Bank Stadium training fields. This was the same location where we played our two warm up games. Arriving during a lunch break that preceded the final, there was plenty of time to mingle with the throng of school girls. In all, there were four teams of girls, plus multiple staff and helpers.

After a few selfies, which we had started becoming accustomed to during this tour, we started some small drills. This evolved into a short game out in the centre involving a handful of us, a few of the girls and Neil. Not only great fun, this proved a gold mine for the local media, with at least four television stations running it in their bulletins. Dicko and I managed to stop a few in front of the camera and pull out a couple of plays for their highlight reel.

At this point, it should be mentioned that the tournament was a modified type of cricket know as tape ball. This game originated on the streets of Karachi many decades ago and is a widely played form of the game in Pakistan. Essentially it is played with a cambered bat, imagine a bowed face, and a taped up tennis ball. Think of backyard cricket but on steroids, this game is played everywhere over here. Not only a breeding ground for young up and comers, it is also a sport in its own right.

As the game continued out in the middle a few of us had a turn at batting. When it was my go, I did my best to block around the girls even throwing in a few leaves to encourage them. After doing this for a while I decided to smack one to try and provide a bit of entertainment. Not wanting to dispatch one of the kids, I waited for their coach to lob me up a juicy little offie. Dancing down the pitch I launched it downwind, out to cow corner. Unfortunately, the ball came off far better than I had expected it to and sailed much further than I intended. As it lobbed over the boundary the rubbery ball took a massive bounce, disappeared over the razor wire and out of the complex, never to be seen again.

Although a few of the kids were impressed, I was a little embarrassed at my miscalculation. We came to give back to the locals and there I was losing some of their precious equipment. Moments like these seem to always follow me through life and I guess sometimes good intentions only go so far. To make matters even worse, I apologised to the coach but he half jokingly said “I guess you’ll just have to go get it now.” Knowing full well that the security protocol wouldn’t allow such an excursion over the razor wire and off premises. After sheepishly apologising again, I hastily headed back to continue meeting more of the locals.

Giving some advice and taking selfies with all those present was super fun and everyone seemed to be really happy. It wasn’t too long though, until I broke one of the rules I had set for the tour. That was to not sign any autographs. This wasn’t because it was an impost on my time but more because I rightfully don’t feel worthy to be giving out autographs. Alas, seeing those young children's smiling faces and hearing their persistent requests, I relented. I rationalise that if it keeps them interested in cricket then I guess it's worth breaking another of my few remaining rules.

On the subject of autographs, there was a far more versed and worthy person in attendance. For a second time on the trip, we encountered the legendary Javed Miandad. After chatting and getting the mandatory selfies with the the great man, Luis had the audacity to ask if he could bowl a ball to him. Being a man of the people, he obliged and proceeded to face up. Taking guard in his sandals, with shalwa kameez† flowing in the breeze, Hermida lobbed up a ball on his pads. Playing around it and possibly missing the ball on purpose, he was wrapped on the leg. We all went up in mock appeal, which in reply to, he bowed the head and rose his finger in the air. Although just a bit of fun, a moment like this with a cricketer of that calibre is more valuable than any autograph.

After the conclusion of the final our skipper, Justin Poole, did a speech on behalf of the team. As a final act, he presented a check from the Australian Government to the organisers, Jalal-ud-din Cricket Academy. This was a fitting honour that Poolie, being an experienced campaigner, took in his stride and did us all proud. Coming from Brisbane, the skipper has been in the game for longer than most, playing with and against too many high profile players to name. Such experience has allowed him to become not only a destructive batsman and develop one of the safest sets of hand you’ll see but also an astute tactician. I better also mention he is a wily off spinner, who may have gotten me out at some stage (I should have published these stories sooner!).

His captaincy was a good mix of laidback vibes but with an all important firm and decisive touch when necessary. Not to mention doing this while organising many parts of our journey to Pakistan, was no small feat! It must also be noted that his administration work for the over 40s scene has been instrumental in its growth. As a New South Welshman, it pains me to say that he and the lads north of the border in Queensland, set a high bar.

Once the formalities were complete, there was a final round of selfies and goodbyes before we jumped on the bus. As we rolled down the main driveway passing the field, there was a moment to reflect on what was definitely a once in a lifetime experience. Running through the amount of things that had conspired to get us together on the tour in the first place was one thing. However, then getting to work alongside the High Commission and give back to young cricket fans is more than a case of good timing. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to all those that had got me to Karachi and immense joy at the kid's excitement. Often cricket can be an individualistic and selfish game, especially when trying to succeed at a higher level. For this reason, I was also extremely proud at the way all the boys gave their time to spread the love of the game and just basically be good humans.

* Although I'm not great with names, I thought it best to leave all but Neil's name off the record.

† Shalwa kamieez is a traditional, long flowing outfit commonly warn in Pakistan (and many other countries as well).