Younis can return © AFP

The best of times are usually followed by the worst of times. This is Pakistan cricket. Something in the Pakistani psyche will inevitably prevent a delicate flower from blooming. Cricket is so fundamental to this nation’s identity that everybody wants a slice of cricket’s luxurious pie. Politicians, bureaucrats, and administrators want their 15 minutes of fame — though infamy is more common.

Meritless chancers choose cricket as their passport to power and glory. Nothing provides a greater thrill to these self-deluded fools than the belief that they have brought a national champion to his knees.

Pakistan cricket’s history is punctuated with such insulting tragedies, the most poignant being that of Imran Khan, the Sher of Pakistan, deciding to retire from international cricket after winning the 1992 World Cup.

Imran was 40 and his bowling had begun to evoke memories of Mudassar Nazar, but as a batsman and a leader his job in mentoring future champions was unfinished. But Pakistan cast him adrift, questioning his personal motives and viewing a hero with a scoundrel’s contempt. Imran’s pride, his greatest asset and his perennial weakness, forced him to say he’d had enough.

I once heard a parable of why ability is rarely a criterion for progress in Pakistan, why merit counts for nothing. It is not the whole explanation, of course, but an important part of it.

Imagine a ladder reaching up to the heavens, with all the millions of people of Pakistan condemned to an eternity of clambering to the top, an exhausting desperate existence. The first person to reach the summit will liberate his people from this ladder-climbing hell but will also become king and master of his nation.

In the heavenly ladders of other nations, people reach the top to bring succour to their fellows. They achieve this through co-operation and a realisation that the best of them should reach the summit for the common good. There are some false starts, and some progress to their goal faster than others, but they move towards liberation from their plight.

On the Pakistani ladder, people climb forever, a purgatory of perpetual struggle without reward. Pakistanis of all hues and tongues rush to the top, trampling over their weaker countrymen, pushing many off the ladder to their deaths a thousand miles below.

Some are pure geniuses, racing up the ladder with skill and artistry unseen on any other heavenly ladder. But each time a Pakistani nears the top, a hundred, nay a thousand bitter hands reach upwards, making a superhuman effort to grab their fellow, drag him back, and plunge him into the darkness below.

Nobody reaches the top. Nobody succeeds. Nobody brings solace to a troubled people.

This then is the state of Pakistan, the mindset of Mr Jamshed Dasti, a supposedly honourable parliamentarian. It is the mindset that pervades too much of Pakistani society and cricket.

Why let a good man succeed when you can’t succeed yourself?

I commend Younis Khan for standing by his principles. The laws of libel and slander are too weak to protect anybody’s reputation in Pakistan. I would have commended him too if he had decided to stay and battle his adversaries. No evidence has been presented, no grounds for a character assassination.

The attack on the integrity of Pakistan’s cricketers was unleashed by a frivolous media report, a report seized upon by a dismal political creed that chooses to devote its time to investigating cricketers when the country is in crisis. The investigations that are urgently required, however, are of the politicians, bureaucrats, and administrators who destroy every bright new dawn. But that reckoning will not come.

No resignation or retirement is the last word in Pakistan cricket. I imagine Javed Miandad in perpetual preparation to come back to lead Pakistan and bat at No.4 against Australia. That isn’t about to happen. But Younis can return. Pakistan needs him.

It is Mr Dasti and his ridiculous parliamentary committee who should resign or be sacked for giving dumb credence to a scurrilous story. And if the rumours are true about the role of the PCB in destabilising Younis, those self-appointed busy bodies should hang their heads in shame. What have they achieved, what talent do they possess, compared with the men they seek to fling off the heavenly ladder?

Younis is no Imran but his story has echoes of the past in the manner of how a triumphant captain is dethroned. What gives the system abusers, who sit in positions of power without mandate, the right to malign the reputation of a cricketer who has delivered a World Cup and a world of prestige? If this is the fate of a hero what hope for the common man or woman?

Once again nobody reaches the top, nobody succeeds, and nobody brings solace to a troubled people.

	A full stadium makes a dull match a thriller. A mostly empty stadium makes a thrilling match dull © Getty Images

Ricky Ponting and Daniel Vettori both declared this year's Champions Trophy a success. A shorter, sharper format meant that most matches were important. The cricket has been gripping enough, though unspectacular. The underdogs met the favourites in the final, and India met Pakistan in a game that was beamed around the world. Enough ingredients, you might argue, to please the ICC? Indeed, the ICC will profess itself to be delighted with the competition. Statistics and soundbites will be used to support their case.

But the ICC should be alarmed by this tournament. What is a spectator sport without spectators? The shoddy turnouts in South Africa are only partly mitigated by the unexpectedly early exit of the hosts. South Africans, we are told, are sports crazy. Well, they weren't mad for the Champions Trophy. It is the second major 50-over tournament to be poorly supported in quick succession.

Cricket's administrators must act. The sport is bankrolled by lucrative television deals. But half the thrill of watching a match on television is that you share the excitement of a live stadium event. A full stadium makes a dull match a thriller. A mostly empty stadium makes a thrilling match dull. Inevitably, cricket will lose the battle for television and internet eyeballs if the spectacle on our screens carries the thrill of a funeral procession. Once that happens, bang goes the business model.

International cricket that is dependent on full houses in only three countries--Australia, England, and India--is unsustainable in the long term. Short-term revenue opportunities with a pandemic of Twenty20 tournaments and gross overexposure of the big teams to each other is taking the fascination and sense of occasion out of cricket. If Liverpool played Manchester United in seven consecutive matches it would become less meaningful even for the most hardened fan. Why is cricket any different?

We all understand the complexities of the Future Tours Programme, and sympathise with those charged with organising it. But the current international schedule is taking the fascination and meaning out of contests, and something needs to be done. I'd argue for more central regulation of the cricket calendar, fewer ad-hoc events and tournaments, and better integration between the formats. More Twenty20, for example, has to mean less of something else. Currently, every new initiative is additive. Less is more. Each match has to matter.

These challenges cannot be insoluble but the ICC has never been convincing in its ability to master them. Many of the representatives on the ICC board are highly accomplished but the political nature of the organisation makes resolution difficult. That political posturing needs to be put aside urgently. International cricket is on the slippery slope to irrelevance. For the past decade, revenue has mattered more than the rude health of the game. Priorities must change.

This Champions Trophy is another serious warning to cricket's adminstrators and power brokers. Adapt or die is the message in 2009, the 200th anniversary of the birth of Charles Darwin. But are those in control of the evolution of cricket sufficiently selfless and far sighted to win this survival of the fittest?

	It was a sobering sight watching Umar Akmal show his experienced colleagues how to nudge, pinch, and accelerate © AFP

Pakistan fell at least 25 runs short on a good batting track, a performance that could be explained by ring rustiness. An alternative explanation, however, is that Pakistan's experienced batsmen failed to master two fundamental aspects of one-day cricket.

The first of these has dogged Pakistan for over a decade, as they have become too reliant on a rollicking final ten overs. Indeed, the middle order play as if there is no need to rush as it will all come good in the final thrash. But too often the final thrash lasts too few overs and is a major contributor to Pakistan's unpredictability.

The answer is more urgency in the middle to keep the scoreboard ticking and the run-rate up. Pakistan played this game perfectly against India but have disappointed since. It was a sobering sight watching Umar Akmal show his experienced colleagues how to nudge, pinch, and accelerate.

Umar's disappointment at being wrongly dismissed by Simon Taufel was understandable. He had played with passion, pride, and good sense to establish a platform for Pakistan's final thrash. The umpires' decision to report Umar to the match referee was regrettable and pedantic. Fortunately Javagal Srinath sensibly decided to dismiss the charge of dissent.

The second mistake was Pakistan's woeful use of the last Powerplay, which was needed around the 35th over. Again, Pakistan delayed until it was too late and wickets were no longer in hand. It's hard to understand what Pakistan and other teams hope to gain by using the last Powerplay in the final few overs? Clearly, whatever the critics of 50 overs cricket might say, most teams are still well short of mastering this form of the game.

Now Pakistan must regroup for a tough winter. They should depart South Africa with their heads held high and indications of further progress on the road to recovery. But while Younis Khan has created an exciting and successful formula in Twenty20 cricket, his 50 over recipe is a little stale in the batting department.

	Aleem Dar became the Umpire of the Year, beating five-time winner Simon Taufel to the award © Getty Images

My iPhone buzzed like crazy last night in response to a torrent of emails from the ICC announcing awards winners from the big event. I didn't expect much success for Pakistan but I did believe that their extraordinary performance in the World T20 would earn one of their players a gong. Now I have nothing but admiration for Dilshan and his frying pan shot. Sri Lanka have faced adversity too.

Nonetheless the big Twenty20 performances of the last year were the ones that turned the World T20 on its head and in Pakistan's favour. My sympathies also extended to South Africa, whose phenomenal performance in Test cricket last year went unrecognised. The only triumph for Pakistan was Aleem Dar's umpiring award, which I admit is a considerable achievement and recognition for the way in which Dar and Asad Rauf have transformed the reputation of Pakistani umpires.

Overall, however, the ICC awards have left me baffled. The leading countries in two out of three formats went unrecognised. There is no relationship between the ICC awards and the ICC rankings for countries or individuals, which are recalculated regularly to maintain our interest. What then is the point of all this? There is little real feel to these awards and hence fans, and I guess some players, will be disillusioned.

It's time for a rethink.

	Mohammad Asif's return gives Pakistan the option of playing an extra pace bowler © Getty Images

As much as Pakistan beat India in the middle overs, with a wonderful partnership between Shoaib Malik and Mohammad Yousuf, it was the same middle overs that cost Pakistan this encounter. Younis Khan, in particular, broke the momentum of the innings, and Yousuf and Misbah-ul-Haq did not do enough to restore it. It was a deceptively difficult batting track but those unfocused middle overs meant Pakistan's impressive bowling attack was given just too much to do.

For me, the jury's still out on Yousuf, despite the volume of support he has received in previous blogs. Cricket lends itself to statistics but numbers alone are often deceptive. A successful batsman isn't simply one that records the highest volume of runs or achieves the best average, but somebody who makes the difference between defeat and victory, especially when the going gets tough. Yousuf, for all his excellence, has not been that batsman on enough occasions for Pakistan. Once he has, he can be rightly acknowledged alongside Javed Miandad and Inzamam-ul-Haq. The next two years will establish his position in the hall of fame.

Now Pakistan prepare for a semi-final against New Zealand, a pleasing outcome considering their outstanding record against the Kiwis in major tournaments. Pakistan will be confident that they have sufficient force to overwhelm New Zealand, although the toss could play a decisive factor and again favour the side bowling first.

It's hard to allow for such a lottery but Mohammad Asif's return gives Pakistan the option of playing an extra pace bowler. Asif started gingerly but reminded us why his star rose so quickly. Yes, his double-wicket over was a throwback to his first stab at international cricket. But his ability to combine a high delivery arm with a penetrating line and length make him the bowler he is and more than compensate for his low 80s pace. He misfired more than he usually would but the metronome was in sufficient evidence to encourage his captain and supporters.

The semi-final will offer a further opportunity to judge the health of Pakistan's middle order, especially if Pakistan bat first. If they do so, they might want to consider using their last batting Powerplay before the final five overs. Pakistan's strategy has long been built on an assualt in the final ten overs. Why not take the final Powerplay from the 40th over or even the 35th?