![]() 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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