![]() ![]() So much that I vow never to watch a bright red cherry leaving Aamer’s hand again but then you go and spoil it all… So much that I delete Cricinfo from my browser’s ‘favourites’ list. It hurts more each time, it hurts so much that I shut my ears and eyes to everything newsy. And what do I get in return? A gazillion dropped catches? A field-plan that looks more like children playing ring-around-the-roses than eleven men on a mission to clean-up the Australian tail? Or a bunch of batsmen already day-dreaming of plucking the stumps out of the pitch as they gift their wicket away? Framing superlative-loaded bulletin headlines, updating my Facebook status in anticipation of historic wins is all that I do. to watch a cricket match suddenly seems way easier than waking up for sehri. I know history forbids me from taking these randomly generated glimpses of brilliance as anything but a false alarm, but I can’t really help it when I see Asif and Sami rip the Aussie batting apart, can I? One brilliant innings from Fawad Alam, a couple of jaw-dropping, sparkling innings from Umar Akmal or a raw-energy filled spell of immaculate fast bowling from Mohammad Aamer is all it takes for expectations to rise again. Only to come crashing down again.and every fall is worse than the last. Every time I promise myself not to expect anything from you and try to keep myself from following you, you spring a surprise and my heart flutters with hope. ![]()
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