In early 2004, a young left-arm quick from Baroda walked into a commentary box in Australia and met the man whose shadow he had been bowling under since childhood. Irfan Pathan, India’s new pace hope, came face to face with Wasim Akram, the original left-arm sorcerer, and did what any young fast bowler would do. He asked questions.
By then, Pathan had already announced himself to the world. His Test debut in Sydney in 2003 had been the stuff of dreams: Steve Waugh’s farewell series, a packed SCG, and a 19-year-old swinging it at high pace. He removed Waugh, then produced a reverse-swinging yorker to castle Adam Gilchrist. One ball. Middle stump. Statement made.
The rise was rapid. In the ODI tri-series that followed, Pathan claimed 16 wickets in 10 matches, troubling top orders with late movement and a bustling action that reminded everyone of Akram. On the subsequent tour of Pakistan, he took eight wickets in three ODIs, thriving in conditions where reverse swing becomes a weapon, not a luxury.
India suddenly had a left-arm trio: Zaheer Khan, Ashish Nehra and now Pathan. With Pathan’s whippy action, decent pace and that late tail with the old ball, the comparisons with Akram were inevitable. India, it was said, had finally found their own version of Pakistan’s great left-armer.
Akram saw it too.
“When Irfan met me in 2004 on his first tour to Australia, I was commentating for ESPNStar. He was a big fan. Grew up watching us,” Akram recalled on the 1 Mint podcast. Pathan wanted tips; Akram obliged. But it wasn’t a technical overhaul. At that level, Akram knows, you don’t rip up actions.
“I gave him a few tips here and there, but he did well early on in his career. His action was similar to mine from the very beginning. But when players ask you about something, what you tell them is mostly about the mindset,” Akram said. Wrist position, reading a batter, choosing the right variation at the right time – that was the real lesson. “When to use variations, when not to. So yeah, it was good fun. Irfan is a good boy; he still keeps meeting me.”
Pathan took those lessons into the fiercest arena available to an Indian fast bowler: matches against Pakistan. He relished them. Across formats, he collected 67 wickets from 36 internationals against Pakistan – 27 in Tests, 34 in ODIs and 6 in T20Is – often swinging the ball through the top order and into the heart of the contest.
His career, though, never followed the endless upward curve many predicted in those early days. Injuries bit. A new generation of Indian quicks emerged. The player who had opened the bowling for India for several years and won Player of the Match in the T20 World Cup final against Pakistan in 2007 eventually faded from the national set-up and announced his retirement in 2020.
Pathan did not disappear. He shifted into broadcasting, where his analysis found an audience, and onto social media, where his opinions rarely sit quietly. He is one of the most outspoken former India players online, especially when the subject is Pakistan.
Akram, who still meets him, has noticed. “It’s a different thing that he keeps tweeting some or the other thing against Pakistan. But our fans are ready too. They don’t have the tendency to ignore either. They just have to reply,” he said with a wry smile.
That back-and-forth, that constant hum of needle between fan bases, is the soundtrack to India–Pakistan cricket in the social media age. Akram has lived through several versions of this rivalry – from the white-hot 1990s to the modern, meme-fuelled era – and he remains one of the few voices consistently trying to turn the volume down.
For him, India vs Pakistan is not a war. It’s a fixture.
“People have too much time. Why can’t they understand? It’s only a frikkin game. At the end of the day, it’s just a match. Somebody has to win, somebody has to lose. And move on to the next one,” he said. The language is blunt, the message even more so.
The problem, as he sees it, lies in old wounds and idle minds. “But no, what happened many moons ago still lingers. Revenge and all is so 1970. It’s the classic ‘en empty mind is a devil’s workshop, thought process,” Akram added.
For all the numbers, all the iconic spells and unforgettable collapses, that might be the most telling line of all from a man who has seen this rivalry from the middle of the pitch and from the commentary box. Pathan once chased Akram’s action, his swing, his craft. Now, as both men watch the next generation take guard, the bigger question hangs over every India–Pakistan game: will anyone start listening to Akram’s simplest instruction – to treat it as just cricket?
