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The real story behind cricket analysts, their influence on TV

Former cricketers often prioritize personal agendas over constructive analysis, leading to biased criticism and diminishing credibility

The real story behind cricket analysts, their influence on TV PHOTO: AFP

Today, I’m going to reveal the formula for becoming a cricket analyst. I know many of you deeply understand the game, but since you don’t have the “former cricketer” label or a media job, your analysis is limited to gatherings with friends. Whenever you hear a former cricketer who played just one Test match screaming on TV, you must wonder who put him there. The answer? Luck.

In the past, retired cricketers were largely forgotten, their lives turning desolate after leaving the game. Then came electronic media, and suddenly, their fortunes changed. TV channels started paying for expert opinions, and some cricketers even landed PCB jobs to silence their criticism. This formula worked so well that ex-cricketers began bashing the board just to get noticed—and, eventually, hired. The trend continues today, but with an advanced twist: some players are employed by the board yet still allowed to appear on TV, ensuring PCB gets defended on air. In the past, a PCB employee couldn’t work as a TV analyst.

Now, back to the formula. It’s simple:

    •    If the team wins the toss and bats first but loses, say the decision was wrong.
    •    If Babar Azam and Mohammad Rizwan play, criticize their slow batting.
    •    If they don’t play, say their absence caused the defeat.
    •    If too many juniors are included, blame inexperience.
    •    If fewer juniors are included, say young talent isn’t getting opportunities.
    •    If a new team wins, praise the abundance of talent.
    •    If they lose, lament the lack of fresh players.

Recently, someone sent me the salary list of sports anchors and analysts on the national TV channel. I was shocked—none of them earn less than 600,000–700,000 PKR per month. Even the loudest ones pocket the same amount. Some female anchors, too, are cashing in on this golden opportunity—all paid for by the public through electricity bills.

Back to former cricketers. They go with the flow. If the team wins, they shower praises; if they lose, they declare cricket in Pakistan is dead. After the Champions Trophy loss, a former captain suggested dropping six to seven players. A few days later, he advised sticking with the same squad. Most of them claimed Pakistan had no new talent, but after just one good match, they saw glimpses of Javed Miandad in Hasan Nawaz. Now the next match is lost, they’ll tear the team apart again.

When Mohammad Rizwan skipped the National T20 Cup after performing Umrah, a former cricketer (not worthy of the “star” label) demanded action against him. Instead of yelling on TV, couldn’t he just ask Rizwan why he didn’t play? There must have been a reason.

The real issue is that our ex-cricketers don’t analyze properly. A defeat isn’t the end of the world, but some of them make such inflammatory comments on TV that if an angry fan spots a player outside, he might abuse him. Balanced analysts are rare. Yelling and humiliating others is what gets ratings. You know the examples yourself. Just like tailors get busy before Eid, former cricketers hit the jackpot during ICC events. Even those who played just two matches find work, acting as if they were on Don Bradman’s level or had trophy-laden showcases.

Take the Champions Trophy defeat—those bashing the team never won a major title themselves. Ask them how many times they beat India in their careers, and they’ll have no answer. Criticism is easy, but solutions are rare. If they notice a flaw in Babar Azam or Shaheen Afridi, they could simply call them and offer advice—but they don’t. Their grudges often stem from petty reasons: “He didn’t greet me” or “I asked for a favor, and he refused, so now I’ll destroy him on TV.”

Criticism often follows an agenda. If they like a player, they’ll push for his comeback or captaincy. If they dislike him, even his hairstyle becomes an issue. In the past, analysts openly submitted bills to PCB for defending the board on TV. This culture has ruined their credibility.

There are only a few whose words are taken seriously now. Just watch—after one win, even the harshest critics become poetic with praise.Now that the team has lost the fourth match and the series, the same people will once again declare that cricket in the country is finished. If only these players thought beyond personal agendas and interests, our cricket wouldn’t have fallen so far behind. Haris Rauf wasn’t wrong when he said that in Pakistan, people wait for the team to lose just so they can unleash a storm of criticism.