The Great Babar Azam Circus: Pakistan’s Talent Mismanagement Reaches Peak Comedy

Well, well, well. Here we are again, folks—another episode in Pakistan cricket’s never-ending soap opera, and this time our protagonist is none other than Babar Azam. The same guy who was once hailed as Pakistan’s batting messiah is now sitting at home, probably wondering if he should take up gardening instead. And honestly? Who could blame him at this point.

The Rise and Fall of Pakistan’s Golden Boy

Let’s be real here—Babar Azam didn’t just fall from grace; he was pushed off the cliff by the very people who once carried him on their shoulders. One day, he’s “King Babar,” the next, he’s apparently not good enough to make the Asia Cup squad. If this isn’t peak Pakistan cricket logic, I don’t know what is.

The irony is almost too delicious to digest. This is the same player who consistently ranked among the world’s top batsmen across formats, who led Pakistan to memorable victories, and who was supposed to be the face of Pakistan cricket for the next decade. But hey, apparently two years without a century makes you persona non grata in Pakistani cricket. Never mind that half the current squad would kill for Babar’s “poor” statistics.

Why Azam’s Exclusion Makes Zero Sense

Here’s where things get really spicy. Mike Hesson, Pakistan’s coach (yes, they imported expertise from New Zealand because apparently local knowledge isn’t good enough), decided that Azam needs to work on his strike rate. His strike rate! This is like telling Lionel Messi he needs to work on his running speed before he can play football again.

The man has a T20I average of over 41 with a strike rate that, while not explosive by today’s standards, is hardly terrible. But sure, let’s drop our most consistent performer because he doesn’t clear the boundary every third ball. That’ll show those pesky fans who’s boss.

What’s even more hilarious is watching former players like Kamran Akmal do complete 180s on their positions. First, he’s calling for Azam to be dropped from all white-ball formats, then suddenly he’s crying about senior players being left out. Make up your mind, Kamran! This flip-flopping would make politicians proud.

The Pakistan Cricket Board’s Masterclass in Self-Sabotage

The Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) has truly outdone itself this time. They’ve managed to sideline their biggest star, alienate their fanbase, and create a controversy that overshadows actual cricket—all in one fell swoop. It’s like they took a masterclass in “How to Destroy Your Brand 101” and graduated with honors.

Think about it: Azam hasn’t played T20Is since last year, and now he’s been excluded from both the tri-series and Asia Cup squads. This isn’t player management; it’s player punishment. And for what? For not being aggressive enough? For being too consistent? For actually thinking before swinging his bat like a caveman?

Generation Z and the Azam Effect

Here’s something the PCB clearly doesn’t understand—modern cricket fans, especially Generation Z, don’t just follow teams; they follow personalities. Babar Azam isn’t just a cricketer; he’s a brand, a social media phenomenon, a player who actually makes young people want to watch cricket.

While players like Mohammad Rizwan and Shaheen Afridi are undoubtedly talented, they don’t have that same magnetic pull. When you remove Azam from the equation, you’re not just dropping a player—you’re potentially losing an entire generation of fans who see him as the face of Pakistan cricket.

The brutal truth is that Pakistan-India matches without Babar won’t have the same appeal. Sponsors know it, broadcasters know it, and deep down, even the PCB knows it. But hey, let’s prioritize strike rates over star power. That’s worked out so well for Pakistan cricket in the past, right?

The Mental Warfare Nobody Talks About

What really gets me is how everyone’s dancing around the mental aspect of this whole debacle. Imagine being Babar Azam right now—constantly criticized, dropped despite being one of your country’s best performers, and watching lesser players get opportunities while you’re left wondering what went wrong.

The former cricketer quoted in the original piece nailed it: this isn’t about cricket anymore; it’s about confidence destruction. When you have a player constantly worried about his place in the team, constantly trying to prove himself rather than playing his natural game, you’ve already lost half the battle.

Azam used to bat with the confidence of someone who knew his place was secure. Now? He’s probably second-guessing every shot, every pause, every moment of consolidation. That’s not the mindset you want your premier batsman to have.

The Bigger Picture: Pakistan’s Talent Management Crisis

This Azam situation is symptomatic of a larger problem in Pakistan cricket—the complete inability to manage talent properly. They build players up only to tear them down at the first sign of struggle. They create heroes and then systematically destroy their confidence when they don’t meet impossible standards.

Look at how other cricket nations handle their stars. India stuck with Virat Kohli through his lean patches, Australia supported Steve Smith after his comeback, England backed Joe Root despite occasional failures. But Pakistan? They drop their best players and then act surprised when the team lacks experience and composure in crucial moments.

Should Pakistan Bring Back Azam?

The question isn’t whether Pakistan should bring back Babar Azam—it’s how quickly they can swallow their pride and admit they made a colossal mistake. The man averages over 45 in ODIs, has scored 31 international centuries, and has been their most consistent performer across formats for years.

But here’s the kicker—even if they bring him back tomorrow, the damage might already be done. You can’t just mess with a player’s psychology and expect everything to return to normal. The trust is broken, the confidence is shattered, and the relationship between player and management is probably beyond repair.

Still, for Pakistan’s sake, they better hope Azam is more forgiving than the average person would be in his situation. Because right now, they need him more than he needs them. And that’s a position no cricket board wants to be in with their star player.

The bottom line? Pakistan cricket has once again proven that it’s its own worst enemy. In a sport where consistency and mental strength are paramount, they’ve chosen chaos and confusion. And somewhere, Babar Azam is probably just shaking his head, wondering how it all went so wrong, so fast.