Pakistan cricket has always had bad days, bad tours, and even bad teams. But rarely has a side arrived in England with such a convincing case for being one of the weakest Pakistan teams in half a century.
The Daily Telegraph labeled the current Pakistan side the worst in 50 years. Former England Test cricketer Stuart Broad called the team poor before the series had even properly begun, while former England captain Nasser Hussain criticized Mohammad Rizwan’s approach in the middle. Former Pakistan captain Salman Butt, whose career was damaged by the 2010 spot-fixing scandal, responded sharply to Broad.
But strip away the personalities, the criticism, and the inevitable social media outrage, and an uncomfortable question remains: was Broad really wrong? Perhaps not.
In fact, this Pakistan team is arguably one of the worst to tour England in decades, comparable to the side led by an inexperienced Javed Burki in 1962. That Pakistan team lost four of its five Tests in England, with the other ending in a draw.
One striking similarity between the two sides is inexperienced leadership, pressure, and selection based more on reputation than on current performance. That combination can destroy a cricket team.
Can’t bat, can’t bowl, can’t field
The most worrying thing about Pakistan’s current side is that no department looks genuinely superior to England’s. The batting is unreliable, the bowling lacks penetration, and the fielding often appears disinterested.
Salman Ali Agha, who should have provided stability and leadership in the absence of regular skipper Babar Azam, struggled to assert himself across all departments. Saud Shakeel looks increasingly like a player without a clear role or confidence. Imam-ul-Haq’s position has become difficult to defend when his performances don’t match his reputation.
There is a broader problem here. Pakistan continues to protect batsmen because of their past performances, while discarding bowlers after one or two failures. That is precisely the opposite of how a healthy Test side should operate.
Imam, for example, has benefited from extraordinary patience. If a player is selected because he is considered one of the country’s best batsmen, he must demonstrate that value consistently — not merely in familiar home conditions. The way he was dismissed in the second innings of the Leeds Test was embarrassing for him and for those who watched.
Rizwan’s time may be up
Mohammad Rizwan’s position also warrants serious discussion, not because he is a senior player, but because it seems his mind is elsewhere when he is on the field. As wicketkeeper, he is expected to contribute behind the stumps, make intelligent reviews, take chances, and provide runs. At present, he is not consistently delivering enough in any of those areas.
Pakistan has historically been ruthless toward wicketkeepers. After Wasim Bari, almost every long-term successor eventually faced enormous pressure — Moin Khan (advancing age), Rashid Latif (suspension for a dubious catch), and Kamran Akmal and Sarfaraz Ahmed (poor performance) all experienced it.
Wicketkeepers such as Humayun Farhat and Atiq uz Zaman also showed promise but never established themselves for long. Rizwan’s biggest problem is not merely his batting average; it is the impression that his cricket has become increasingly self-centered at precisely the time Pakistan needs collective responsibility.
Nasser Hussain’s criticism therefore struck a nerve because it addressed something larger than a single innings: the attitude of a player who should be setting an example for the rest of the team.
Why keep dropping only bowlers?
Pakistan’s treatment of its bowlers is even more baffling. Mohammad Abbas should never have been dropped after delivering a stunning performance against the West Indies in the first Test, yet he didn’t play in the second Test. Off-spinner Sajid Khan should not have been discarded after helping Pakistan win a Test in the Caribbean, yet he didn’t play in the first Test in England.
Yet batsmen who repeatedly fail somehow remain protected. Why? The answer appears to be reputation. Pakistan selectors seem to believe that a batsman can regain form, whereas a bowler must immediately justify his place. That philosophy is particularly damaging in Test cricket, where bowlers win matches.
Also, since fast bowlers hunt in pairs, Abbas needs support at the other end. Mohammad Ali and Khurram Shehzad are no doubt good bowlers, but they are too similar to each other and lack the ferocity of yesteryear bowlers who aimed at the wicket rather than hoping to hit it. They hardly bowled any bouncers or yorkers during the Test match, while the opposition set plans and delivered, regularly bowling the two deliveries missing from Pakistan’s arsenal.
In England, Pakistan’s attack has looked slower and less threatening than the home bowlers, many of whom bowl at or above 85 mph. Pakistan’s quicks have often bowled between 75 and 85 mph, and that proved to be the main difference between the two sides.
The only person who seemed comfortable in England’s conditions was left-arm spinner Ali Usman, who showed that intelligence, discipline, and acclimatization can do wonders. But he succeeded partly because England did not initially take him seriously, and that cannot be Pakistan’s strategy.
The real problem is selection
The most frustrating part of this crisis is that Pakistan has options. The team does not need eleven superstars. It needs eleven players chosen for what they can contribute now, rather than for what they did two or three years ago.
If Imam-ul-Haq is dropped, Shan Masood and Abdullah Shafique can be considered partners for Azan Awais, with one of them moving to No. 3. Why should Azan Awais be kept in the final XI? Because he is young and young players can learn; Imam-ul-Haq can only score runs in Rawalpindi, and even then only in the first innings.
Babar Azam’s return could then provide the middle order with the class and experience it desperately lacks. Awais Zafar deserves an opportunity as well. It is difficult to imagine him performing worse than some of the batsmen currently in the middle order.
Abdullah Fazal, who was part of the squad and is fit, could also be considered. If he is good enough to be selected, he should at least be given a genuine opportunity rather than being left behind for reasons that have not been adequately explained.
Behind the stumps, Pakistan needs to consider alternatives as well. Since Ghazi Ghori is with the squad and has proven his mettle in ODIs, he needs to replace Mohammad Rizwan, who seems desperately in need of a rest, not for his own sake but for the team’s.
What about the bowling?
The bowling attack requires both quality and balance. Mir Hamza currently plays for Glamorgan and knows English conditions. Ubaid Shah is another option who didn’t fare well in his debut Test, but neither did Imran Khan, Shoaib Akhtar, Naseem Shah, and many others. Pakistan should also consider Aamir Jamal, who offers something particularly valuable: he can contribute with both bat and ball.
Khurram Shahzad and Mohammad Ali are capable bowlers, but having two similar options does not necessarily give Pakistan the variety required in England.
The conditions should determine whether Pakistan plays one or two spinners. Sajid Khan deserves another opportunity, particularly because he has already shown he can win matches.
Ali Usman has also earned another chance after demonstrating his credentials. That brings us to perhaps the most damaging sentence in Pakistan cricket: “If you do well, you get dropped.”
It has become almost a running joke. A player performs, gains confidence, and then disappears from the XI. Another player fails repeatedly yet retains his place because of his name. No professional team can develop that way.
Can Babar Azam change everything?
Babar’s return would undoubtedly improve the batting. His technique, experience and ability to absorb pressure would give the middle order something it currently lacks.
But one player cannot repair a broken system. Babar can score runs; he cannot solve Pakistan’s selection problems. He cannot make a weak bowling attack threatening. He cannot improve a team’s fielding attitude from the dressing room.
And he certainly cannot change a culture in which players are selected for their reputation and dropped for poor performance. That requires selectors and team management to make difficult decisions.
Pakistan needs to stop being sentimental
The comparison with the 1962 team should be taken seriously, but it should not become an insult directed at individual players. The current squad contains talented cricketers. What it lacks is balance, consistency, and, perhaps most importantly, a clear selection philosophy.
Pakistan needs to stop asking, “Who has done it before?” The more important question should be: “Who is most likely to do it now?”
That means dropping batsmen when they fail, retaining bowlers when they perform, rewarding form in domestic and county cricket, and giving young players enough opportunities to establish themselves.
Most importantly, Pakistan must stop treating strong performance as a reason to change the team. Abbas performs and is dropped. Sajid wins a Test and is dropped. Ali Usman succeeds and suddenly finds himself fighting for another opportunity. That is not competition. That is confusion.
The Pakistan team may or may not ultimately prove the Daily Telegraph right in calling it the worst in 50 years. But if this side wants to silence its critics, the answer will not come through angry statements, social-media arguments, or former players attacking former players.
It will come on the cricket field. For that to happen, Pakistan must finally select players for what they are, rather than for what they used to be.
