Pakistan and the county game

On a perfect summer day in 1971, Zaheer Abbas took guard at Edgbaston and launched a reputation. Among those left breathless by his strokeplay were officials at Gloucestershire County Cricket Club, who had followed his form through the side games and soon found 274 reasons to offer him a contract. Zaheer did not know much about Gloucestershire except that it was out west, and had been the county of Wally Hammond and W.G. Grace. Apparently, that was good enough.

His Pakistan team-mate Sadiq Mohammad was already at Gloucestershire and helped negotiate the details. Zaheer did not take to the county circuit right away but when he did, it was nothing short of phenomenal. In 1976, he went berserk and reeled off a century and double-century in the same match on three separate occasions. Gloucestershire shot up to the third spot in the Championship table, having languished second from bottom the previous season.

Over 30 players from Pakistan have appeared in the County Championship. Abdul Hafeez Kardar, Pakistan's aristocratic inaugural captain, was the first, but the trend really picked up in the 1970s and the list includes many of Pakistan's greatest names.

It was natural for cricketers from Pakistan, as from elsewhere around the Test world, to be drawn to the English domestic season. The money was good, and if you enjoyed your cricket, England was the only place you could play in the summer months. It was also an intense education, clashing and competing with other players, some of whom like West Indians and South Africans, were legends. And there was the hallowed prestige of things English, which elevated county cricket and its larger context into a dream to which many aspired.

The history of overseas stars in formal English cricket goes back to 1929, when Learie Constantine was brought in to the northern leagues. County cricket saw its first major overseas influx in the late 1960s, when foreign stars were invited to revive flagging interest (and falling gate receipts). Asif Iqbal at Kent and Majid Khan at Glamorgan were among this early wave, having impressed on Pakistan's 1967 tour to England. They were part of a sizeable cohort that included the likes of Clive Lloyd, Lance Gibbs, Rohan Kanhai, Garry Sobers, Mike Procter and Barry Richards.

You could argue that Pakistan's golden age was born in the county game. Imran Khan and Javed Miandad, architects of Pakistan's finest hours, were both hardened county products. Born and raised in Lahore, Imran finished high school in England and played for Oxford, Worcestershire and Sussex. He credits Sussex's John Snow with teaching him the ropes. Miandad says were it not for England, Imran would not have become the cricketer that he did.

Miandad himself, a self-made firebrand from Karachi's combative cricket culture, sought the county experience to apply finishing touches. After an uncertain start at Sussex he found a home at Glamorgan and immediately connected with the fan base. In 1981, he had a bumper season and crowned it with the innings of a lifetime at Colchester, making 200 not out in the fourth innings on a minefield against seasoned spinners. Dickie Bird was one of the umpires and Graham Gooch the opposing captain; each would later glowingly recall that innings in their memoirs.

The forum of county cricket has been a two-way street in which overseas players and English players have both benefited. For local cricketers, sharing the rigors of the circuit with celebrated icons from other countries, offered an unparalleled cricketing tutorial, and some of the stardust was bound to rub off. It is probably no coincidence that the distinguished county career of Wasim Akram at Lancashire was followed last year by the likes of ex-county team-mate Andrew Flintoff reverse-swinging his way to an England Ashes victory.

One measure of how much Pakistan has gained from this relationship is their relative comfort with English conditions. They return this year not having lost a Test series there in a quarter of a century. Pakistan's great failing, though, has been not taking the system's core traditional values - discipline, rigour, and intensity - and bringing them into the cricket infrastructure at home, which remains sloppy and casual.

Unsurprisingly, Pakistan's recent international sides have appeared comically short on the basics. Erratic running between the wickets, playing away from the body or against the line, and that old bugbear, the suspect bowling action - these are all kinks that would have been worked out by a sound domestic set-up modeled after the best of the county program.

But county cricket, too, is no longer the institution it once was. In the 1980s, when England's cricket fortunes began to slide, overseas players in counties were reduced out of concern that promising English players were facing limited opportunities to emerge. A series of strategic appraisals - the Palmer Report, the Murray Report, the MacLaurin proposals - were undertaken with the hope of making the County Championship a more energetic nursery to feed the England international side. Introduction of four-day matches, innings limited to 100 overs with a single ball; and two-tier models, were some of the other ideas thrashed about and eventually implemented.

If you ask players like Zaheer or Miandad, they remain puzzled by all the hand-wringing. England's team saw better days when there were four overseas players per club than when there were one or two. Fewer overseas players means fewer masters to play against and learn from. The logic seems clear enough - you'll learn more at a university that hires the brightest faculty in the world, than at one that keeps them out. But it's cricket logic versus administrative logic, and that's an old divide.

Whether the tinkering has worked has been endlessly debated - in itself a tell-tale sign that it has probably not. A plentiful supply of international cricket has necessarily diluted the brand, as it has for domestic competitions across the world. Short-term contracts are devaluing the enterprise, making the foreign recruit seem more like a carpetbagger than the accomplished professional who used to have an enduring relationship with the club and its community.

Sponsorship, television rights, and the rampant appetite of an increasingly frenzied public have forever transformed the circumstances of the game. Time and cricket have moved on, and one feels that the heyday of the County Championship with its robust English flavour and lavish international seasonings may have permanently receded.