Shattered windows that built hope
Unable to earn her trade in the army as she had hoped, women's captain Sana Mir ensured backup plans fell into place.
Drop-outs are seldom respected in any society. Spending one’s childhood, as a girl, on the streets, on the grounds, attracting the quizzed and questioning gaze and not worrying much about the complexion oppugns the very concept of our ‘conservative’ society. Confused individuals – defying the culture and its norms – running after unattainable goals, with limited backing, do not usually survive to tell the tale.
Unless, getting off a plane, you have a gold medal around your neck.
Never the one to give up on her dreams, Sana Mir, captain of Pakistan’s victorious women’s cricket team, planned to join the army, the airforce or the cricket team just to wear the uniform and a chance to represent her nation.
While the first two choices fell astray to poor timing, her intent on the streets, and the courage and confidence gained through shattered windows and scolding aplenty, ensured her crusade to make a name produced a bang.
“Everyone knew I was a bit different, never the type to sit at home and play with dolls,” said Mir.
“Even when my cousins were getting their mehndi done before Eid, I would be out playing cricket. And when I finally joined the Pakistan cricket squad, everyone thought that was the right place for me.”
Despite the elation that accompanied her inclusion in the squad, Mir’s road to glory included dropping out of university – despite being an above-average student – and opting, instead, for less greener, and less plausible, pastures: women’s cricket.
“It was a difficult choice to make, especially considering the image of women in sport at that time and the fact that I belonged to an army family.
“I didn’t even have anywhere to go at that time. I just needed practice, needed matches, time and outlet.”
The oozing determination was part courtesy Imran Khan’s efforts in 1992 with Mir praying for a chance to emulate the pathan’s feat and the podium stance. While the longing for a cup remains, the thirst for success, of a first-place finish, has been quenched for now. The route includes pooling in to buy cement as the street’s potholes became too dangerous for batting, taking up spin just to be able to play past sunset with a plastic ball, and surviving a stress fracture and the dreaded words of doctors.
With an incident-filled half decade behind her, the future, it seems, may offer much of the same.
“It’s really difficult to plan but I know that I want to pass on whatever I’ve learnt to the youngsters. Due to our culture, you play till you’re 28 and then you start your second life [get married]. We have an improved side, better facilities and a greater interest. I don’t know how long I’ll play for but when I leave, I want to leave a good team behind.”
World Cup qualification, second-round appearance in the mega event, Pakistan’s first away win, propelling the team to sixth in rankings and the Asian Games gold, Mir will leave a trail of unmatched achievements that will propel her into the ‘second life’ much satisfied.
Published in The Express Tribune November 24th, 2010.
Unless, getting off a plane, you have a gold medal around your neck.
Never the one to give up on her dreams, Sana Mir, captain of Pakistan’s victorious women’s cricket team, planned to join the army, the airforce or the cricket team just to wear the uniform and a chance to represent her nation.
While the first two choices fell astray to poor timing, her intent on the streets, and the courage and confidence gained through shattered windows and scolding aplenty, ensured her crusade to make a name produced a bang.
“Everyone knew I was a bit different, never the type to sit at home and play with dolls,” said Mir.
“Even when my cousins were getting their mehndi done before Eid, I would be out playing cricket. And when I finally joined the Pakistan cricket squad, everyone thought that was the right place for me.”
Despite the elation that accompanied her inclusion in the squad, Mir’s road to glory included dropping out of university – despite being an above-average student – and opting, instead, for less greener, and less plausible, pastures: women’s cricket.
“It was a difficult choice to make, especially considering the image of women in sport at that time and the fact that I belonged to an army family.
“I didn’t even have anywhere to go at that time. I just needed practice, needed matches, time and outlet.”
The oozing determination was part courtesy Imran Khan’s efforts in 1992 with Mir praying for a chance to emulate the pathan’s feat and the podium stance. While the longing for a cup remains, the thirst for success, of a first-place finish, has been quenched for now. The route includes pooling in to buy cement as the street’s potholes became too dangerous for batting, taking up spin just to be able to play past sunset with a plastic ball, and surviving a stress fracture and the dreaded words of doctors.
With an incident-filled half decade behind her, the future, it seems, may offer much of the same.
“It’s really difficult to plan but I know that I want to pass on whatever I’ve learnt to the youngsters. Due to our culture, you play till you’re 28 and then you start your second life [get married]. We have an improved side, better facilities and a greater interest. I don’t know how long I’ll play for but when I leave, I want to leave a good team behind.”
World Cup qualification, second-round appearance in the mega event, Pakistan’s first away win, propelling the team to sixth in rankings and the Asian Games gold, Mir will leave a trail of unmatched achievements that will propel her into the ‘second life’ much satisfied.
Published in The Express Tribune November 24th, 2010.