Fame in cricket is fleeting — only respect for the game and humility keep a player’s legacy alive
PHOTO: ICC
“Look, there’s Shaheen Afridi! Come, let’s take a selfie with him.”
The moment Shaheen arrived at a ceremony, the whole place lit up. Everyone was trying to get close to him. He, with a smile, met people warmly. Nearby, a former fast bowler was also present, but no one paid him any attention. A child’s father asked him to take a picture with the ex-cricketer too. The child replied, “Who is he?” The father explained what great feats he had achieved for Pakistan cricket.
When I glanced at that former player, he seemed lost in deep thought. A senior journalist standing next to me said, “Do you know what’s going on in his mind?” I replied with surprise, “How would I know?” He said, “He must be thinking, once I too had the same kind of crowd around me. Today no one even remembers me. At his peak, he wouldn’t talk to people properly, carried himself with the pride of a superstar, and lived in a bubble where only praise surrounded him. But see now—there isn’t a single soul with him. Cricket, or in fact life itself, works this way. Fame never stays forever. A man should keep his feet on the ground even in glory, so that the pain is less when downfall comes.”
His words were absolutely true. If we talk about cricket, this is exactly the case. Everyone worships the rising sun. Some of today’s “stars” are also lost in the intoxication of fame. They’ve locked themselves inside a shell, with people around them chanting, “Long live the king!” Though the time hasn’t yet come when they’re left all alone, it won’t take long. Someone once said beautifully: “Play cricket, but don’t play with cricket. If you don’t respect the game, you’ll lose your own respect too.”
People may not agree with me, but the fact is this: two years ago, when the central contracts dispute emerged, Pakistan’s performance declined drastically. Instead of discussing strategy for the World Cup in India, our star cricketers were busy negotiating for higher pay. They thought it was the perfect chance to make demands—otherwise, no one would listen tomorrow. Their “advisors” became millionaires themselves, but by giving poor advice, they pushed the players into trouble.
Had the team won the World Cup, they would have earned crores in rewards, but perhaps they didn’t believe in themselves. A few players blackmailed the board instead. I’m sure if someone strong like Mohsin Naqvi had been chairman, no one would have dared such antics. But the management at the time showed weakness. For the first time, players pressured the PCB to give them three percent of the ICC’s revenue share, made it part of their contracts for three years, and more than doubled their salaries. They even threatened that if demands weren’t met, they’d go to the global players’ association and boycott ICC’s promotional activities at the World Cup.
And then, the inevitable happened. With money as the top priority, our team suffered humiliating defeats in India and crashed out in the first round. Earning money is everyone’s right, but no one should achieve it through unfair pressure. Just look at the results since then: in this period, Pakistan has won only 3 out of 12 Tests and lost 9. In ODIs, out of 29 matches, we won 13 and lost 16. In T20 Internationals, out of 43, only 16 wins, 25 losses, with one tie and one no-result. Overall, in 84 matches, just 32 wins and the 50 defeats. Even inexperienced, second-tier teams have beaten us. And during this period, our so-called star cricketers’ performance has been close to zero. Don’t just take my word—check the records online. I won’t write them here.
Cricket is a funny game. First it was “Javed! Javed!” Then “Inzi! Inzi!” Then “Babar! Babar!” and now “Saim! Saim!” Tomorrow, it’ll be “Hasan! Hasan!” That’s the nature of our fans—their mood changes with time. The only thing that stays with you is your bat or ball. Be loyal to it. If you play well, the money will follow automatically—through contracts, sponsorships, and leagues. But don’t forget your foundation: focus on performance. Let people call you emperor or cheetah—don’t let chants get to your head. Stay away from arrogance.
Social media has pushed many stars to the skies, only for them to come crashing down later—largely because of the same people. The cricketers themselves barely matter in that cycle. I think you understand who I’m pointing at. Such players should sincerely repent before God, promising to stay humble and focus on their game. They must distance themselves from people who exploit them with false praise and instead listen to those who give honest advice. Consult former superstars about improving performance—it won’t lower your dignity. Don’t assume you’re the “know-it-all.” Then, God willing, you’ll slowly regain your old form.
But if you remain trapped in your ego, time will pass quickly, and people will forget you—just like they forgot others. I wrote this once before, and I’ll repeat it:
“I thought I was very important, but that was only my illusion.”
The sooner a person understands this, the better. In old age, sitting on a chair outside your house, reminiscing about the past, won’t do you any good.