Pakistan Grasp the Reality of Playing Away From Home – for Years to Come

The cricketers of Pakistan will play again in their own country but one suspects that their return, like that of Odysseus, will follow a long absence. Already their players are developing the traipse of the dispossessed, the mien and foot-slogging weariness of the war refugee. They have not played at home on a regular basis since October 2007.

The last team to tour that country, to prove that cricket was still at peace in a land in turmoil, were Sri Lanka in February and March; they were shot at.

So when Pakistan practiced on the Nursery End ground at Lord's, in preparation for their World Twenty20 opener against England at The Oval tomorrow, it was with the air of exiles toe-feeling out a second home. There are already plans for them to play a Test series against Australia in England next summer and there could be more, much more. Khalid Hussain, sports editor of Karachi's The News, said at Lord's: "We look forward to playing in England next year and it is almost confirmed.

"There is such a large Asian population here and there are such nice grounds, too. I can't see us playing at home again for three years and I'm an optimist."

Of course playing away is not the same without periodic restoration at home. Morale can be damaged and support can atrophy in the absence of a domestic schedule. But in the aftermath of Lahore the ICC's decision to remove the country's status as one of the co-hosts of the 2011 World Cup was inevitable.

Cricket, though, needs Pakistan, despite their regular neuroses, because even when the West Indies were the strongest side in the world in the eighties, and Australia in the nineties, they were somehow still the most exotic, their colors the most vivid. They have produced the most naturally gifted players in the world and Imran Khan, Javed Miandad, Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis and Abdul Kadir once walked in the same dressing-room.

Today they have an impressive pair of pace bowlers in Umar Gul and Sohail ­Tanvir and one of the most exciting young talents in the game in the left-arm Mohammad Aamir, the youngest player in the World Twenty20 at 17. But results have been disappointing and Misbah-ul-Haq, their vice-captain who was the leading scorer in the 2007 World Twenty20 when they reached the final, said: "Not playing at home has had a definite effect.

"We are lacking some intensity in the field – intensity in the batting and bowling, too. Maybe that is because we have had less cricket in the last 18 months. At least we are playing cricket, but we do need to play in Pakistan."

The coach, Intikhab Alam, 67, is their 11th in the past decade (even when the country is peaceful its cricket is chaotic). He used to bowl wrist-spin and hit a long ball for Surrey in the 70s. His fielding is equally memorable, though for all the wrong reasons. Today his podgy, genial countenance suggests an elderly baby, but though he smiles his message is sombre. "It is difficult for us," he said. "We don't want to be isolated. We want to keep playing, without huge gaps in between, which we've had. It is so important for our cricket, for our future and for our youngsters, that foreign teams come to Pakistan to play.

"Youngsters need to see their stars playing in front of their eyes. They must have their icons to motivate themselves."

Khalid Hussain added: "Cricket is the only common thing between the Pakistan people, because we are all different ­people from different provinces, religious, non-religious, young, old. But everybody enjoys their cricket. Even the mullahs enjoy it. Their kids will play cricket to pass the time.

"We take our cricket very seriously. But the shooting in March was like the last nail in the coffin. Now the pessimism is rising among the fans."

To make their isolation worse they were blanket-banned from the recent IPL in South Africa while their opponents were gaining more experience. Despite these their handicaps, Pakistan have won more Twenty20 matches (13) and have a higher percentage of wins (79.41) than any of their rivals. At Lord's Intikhab, imploringly, went to hand-wringing pains to explain how well Pakistan were doing in the circumstances. As he spoke a small Pakistani boy, who had already interrupted the players, asked him to sign his cricket bat.

When Intikhab obliged the boy jumped up and down and said: "This is the best day of my life." The coach looked admirably sheepish. But how many boys in ­Pakistan await such a moment?