In 1980, when Australian team were on Pakistan tour under the captaincy of Greg Chappell, we came across many interesting incidents. During our stay in the Lahore’s Intercontinental Hotel, when we saw people letting off a few fireworks in the backyard of the hotel, we also planned to do the same the next day.
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“Ritchie, don’t examine them too much. They are children of the city of Majid Khan”: Allan Border[/caption]
According to the plan, we were wandering the narrow streets of Lahore’s market the next day where fireworks were sold. To avoid being recognised we had divided into groups of two or three. Greg Ritchie was also with me. Walking the streets of the bazaar, we stumbled across a wide road where youth were playing cricket. A child was batting using a wooden piece as a bat and another was bowling with a filthy tennis ball. Ritchie, who was always finding ways to have fun, demanded the ball from the child and he gave it to him, staring blankly at him.
Ritchie, with a grin on his face, took the ball in his hands and delivered it with the action of Michael Holding. His run-up was a hefty 20 steps against the batsman who was a three-foot child. The batting child, taking a step back, struck the ball so brilliantly to fine leg that it disappeared, passing three streets. Ritchie wasn’t expecting a shot like that from a child so small. He fell to the ground in embarrassment. He vowed to avenge, looking serious. He wanted to bowl again to the child.
When I saw Ritchie going actually serious, I took his hand and took him back, saying “Ritchie, don’t examine them too much. They are children of the city of Majid Khan.”
[caption id="attachment_383" align="alignright" width="208"]
“Ritchie, don’t examine them too much. They are children of the city of Majid Khan”: Allan Border[/caption]According to the plan, we were wandering the narrow streets of Lahore’s market the next day where fireworks were sold. To avoid being recognised we had divided into groups of two or three. Greg Ritchie was also with me. Walking the streets of the bazaar, we stumbled across a wide road where youth were playing cricket. A child was batting using a wooden piece as a bat and another was bowling with a filthy tennis ball. Ritchie, who was always finding ways to have fun, demanded the ball from the child and he gave it to him, staring blankly at him.
Ritchie, with a grin on his face, took the ball in his hands and delivered it with the action of Michael Holding. His run-up was a hefty 20 steps against the batsman who was a three-foot child. The batting child, taking a step back, struck the ball so brilliantly to fine leg that it disappeared, passing three streets. Ritchie wasn’t expecting a shot like that from a child so small. He fell to the ground in embarrassment. He vowed to avenge, looking serious. He wanted to bowl again to the child.
When I saw Ritchie going actually serious, I took his hand and took him back, saying “Ritchie, don’t examine them too much. They are children of the city of Majid Khan.”
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