There's a certain aura that accompanies Shahid Afridi. Until he walked in, there was a certain predictability at the Iqbal Stadium - some tension at the start of the game, nervy silence following loose shots, generous applause for good strokes, and raucous cheers in response to boundaries.

Afridi raises his bat after reaching his fifty, and then really put his foot down © Getty Images

Once Afridi entered, all restraint was forgotten. The cheering accompanying his arrival could have been mistaken for a response to a famous win. When on strike, he commanded attention; when not, he created some frenetic anticipation. Every run that Inzamam took was followed by a certain mayhem; all in wait of Afridi's next ball.

When he smashed fours, they asked for sixes; when he blitzed sixes, they asked for more. His sixes have a certain animal-like quality, one that makes the blood gush, one that gets the veins to tingle.

The thing about Afridi is that he usually gives what crowds want, that too with such astonishing regularity. It's a sort of feeling that many have dreamt about on sleepless nights - a massive crowd anticipating sixes and one being capable of pleasing them.

Watching a player like Dravid, displaying complete mastery of his art, has its own joys but witnessing an Afridi innings will always bring with it a certain manic ring, one of the main goals that many gully cricketers aspire to.