Match Fixing 🏏

We had already lost the first match of the provincial level cricket tournament for all the dental schools in the Sindh province. Karachi alone, being one of the largest cities in the world, hosts over 20 dental schools. Only the top dental colleges had qualified for this tournament by winning their respective qualifying rounds. There were a total of four groups, each consisting of four teams, making it a total of 16 teams. The top two teams from each group would advance to the quarter-finals, then the semi-finals, and finally, the grand finale.

The hosts of the tournament were drafted into our group, and the opening match was between the hosts and our team. As the captain of the Sindh Institute of Oral Health Sciences, I led my team into this crucial first match. Our morale was high, but those spirits were quickly shattered when our top order collapsed, and we were bowled out for a mere 76 runs.

Despite our batting order crumbling, I couldn't afford to give up, especially not in the opening match. We fought bravely and even brought the game remarkably close, but ultimately, we lost in the final over. Having lost our first match out of three, we needed to win the next two to stand a chance of qualifying.

In the next game, we made a strong comeback by thrashing the opposition, which gave us an advantage in terms of net run rate. Now, the most crucial match of the group stage loomed ahead of us. Our final game was against a very solid team that had already qualified by winning their previous two games. If we won this match, we would qualify alongside them due to our superior net run rate. However, if we lost, the host team would qualify instead. Consequently, the host team's fans were fervently supporting our opposition in this final group stage match.

This is where I did something I had never imagined I’d do. Before the toss, I walked over to the opposition team’s dugout and approached their opener, who wasn’t the captain but had a huge influence on his team. He was an uncapped leader.

I tried to convince him to let us win this game. They had already qualified, and this was a must-win for us. What particularly drove me to take this step was the prospect of eliminating the hosts. Our team and the hosts had a long-standing cricket rivalry, and they had already defeated us in the group stages. There was a fire inside me, and I desperately wanted to qualify over them.

When I approached this player, let’s call him Brahim, he looked at me while rolling down the grip on his bat, but I could tell he was listening to what I was saying. He remained silent for a couple of minutes after I finished speaking and then motioned for me to leave.

The toss took place, and the opposition team won, deciding to bowl first. This was a crucial game where our openers needed to step up, but they failed to deliver. In 20 overs, we only managed to score 136 runs. It was a subpar score but still defendable.

Before we walked onto the pitch to bowl, I gave the best captain’s speech I could muster.

I was stationed at short mid-wicket as a fielder, and Brahim came out to open the batting. While adjusting his gloves on the pitch, he gave me a long, profound look before getting ready to face the first ball. My best bowler came running in and bowled a beautiful in-swinger. BANG! The ball soared over my head and landed for a huge six. I was at a loss for words. It was an incredible cricketing shot, both beautiful and hurtful at the same time. After this shot, Brahim didn’t look at me once. He just kept smashing our bowlers all over the field.

When it was my turn to bowl, Brahim was off strike. Before I bowled the first ball, he walked over to the striker and whispered something in his ear.

As I bowled the first ball, the batsman gently pushed it forward for a single run. I knew what was happening. Brahim wanted to face my bowling. I am a leg-spinner, and I knew he’d be expecting a leg-spin delivery next, so I bowled a googly. It completely bamboozled him, missing the stumps by inches.

The next three balls, however, went straight into the stands for sixes. I was at a loss for words. Brahim's performance was relentless and masterful. Despite my initial hopes and attempts to sway the outcome, Brahim's integrity and his skill shone through. He played with unwavering focus and determination, leading his team with a performance that was nothing short of extraordinary.

The opposition team completely thrashed us, winning the game in just 8 overs with 9 wickets in hand. We were eliminated from the tournament, and I didn't have the courage to face Brahim after the game. In my mind, I knew what I did was unacceptable, and I genuinely felt ashamed of the desperate measures I took. However, I was also grateful that Brahim didn't listen to me and defeated us fair and square.

If we had won that game through pre-planning, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself. I'm glad that I was taught a very important lesson: these sorts of measures are never the answer to winning a game, no matter how crucial it is. I know that Brahim still sees me as the guy who tried to manipulate the outcome, but I also know that I'm a better person than that moment of weakness suggested.

I'm thankful that he didn't give in to my scheme and instead taught me such a valuable lesson. If Brahim ever reads this blog, I hope he understands that I regret my decision and have never tried anything like that again. Brahim and his team went on becoming the champions of this tournament

After this tournament, I went on to become the runner-up in another major cricket tournament, but that is a story for another day.