Shahid Afridi has got to be the most entertaining player in world cricket, and it doesn’t always have to do with his cricketing talent.

His recent antics included confusing the cricket ball with the forbidden fruit and gnawing on it as if it were made of Swiss chocolate. The move had me stumped. After wracking my brains for hours, I keep coming back to just one question: What was he thinking?

The options are:

a) He wanted to check if Kookaburra tastes better than a Duke ball?
b) He figured the 2 dozen cameras on the field were switched off or were only focusing on the babes in the audience.
c) He was so hungry, he could eat a horse… er ball …er …never mind.
d) He was only removing the taste of grass for his teammates.
e) None of the above.

And the answer is: E: None of the above. Why? ’Cause he says he was “only smelling the ball”. No, I am not kidding. He really was smelling the ball… apparently, with his teeth. Some people have a nose for trouble, our Pathan friend has 32 shiny teeth for the ‘dirty work’.

Pakistan’s coach hit the nail on the head when he said: "It just happened, like he was eating an apple. I have no idea (what he was trying to achieve)." Moral of the story: An apple a day keeps ball tampering at bay.

Later, Afridi pleaded temporary insanity. "I don't know what happened to me that made me do such a mad thing,” he said. Translated, it means ‘I was in a hurry and I forgot about the cameras’.

Afridi, who was ‘19 years old for at least two years or more’, has been the bad boy of Pakistani cricket. He has been involved in a number of dressing room clashes –physical, not just verbal. Making him captain is like making Attilla the Hun the UN secretary general. Anyway, his bowling has improved. Let’s hope he doesn’t send Pak cricket deeper into the swamp of ignominy.

Don’t get me wrong. Afridi, when he gets going, can be like a hurricane that pulverizes everything in its path. Trouble is, he rarely gets going. Oh! Now I get it. Since he won’t be busy scoring runs he has more time to think about captaincy moves. Brilliant!

The irony is that ball tampering is usually linked to reverse swing. This one reversed so much, even Wasim Akram would be proud of it. As for Afridi, he tried and tried but he couldn’t swallow the ball. He’ll have to settle for his pride this time.

Every dark cloud, they say, has a silver lining; when it comes to Indian sport, however, the silver lining is nothing but a mirage. It is a trick played on our eye and will vanish when we blink.

What else can you say when you see not only the country's most popular sport, but also its national game, embroiled in the vilest of controversies? How do you find something positive to hang on to, when you realise that the main source of this hara-kiri is politics?

Let us begin with cricket: like always, Lalit Modi was patting himself after a job well done, when the clouds emerged. They started as a trickle, with the franchises simply holding on to their purse strings when the Pakistani players were put on the block.

It was, without doubt, a reasonable gambit: why punt on a bunch of players who might not exactly be welcome in at least one city, if not the entire country? Why put their investments, if not the IPL itself, at risk when the government was not giving any clear signals?

The clouds seemed to be quietly passing; but then, politics reared its hideous head: the government had no objection to the presence of our friends from across the border, declared the home minister. He turned a little spark into a fire by declaring that the IPL had done a disservice to cricket.

Shah Rukh Khan, at the same time, gave a glimpse of the machinations behind the scenes: he revealed that there was a silent pact of a different kind among the franchisees; he even indicated that those who were keen on the Pakistani players were forced to back off. He turned the fire into an inferno by stating that the entire episode was humiliating.

An already seething Pakistan became angrier: a team of parliamentarians cried off from their trip to India; another bunch of golfers too stayed home. There were calls to boycott the upcoming hockey World Cup as well. Clearly, the clouds had turned dark and they were ready to come down.

The TOI, however, saw a hint of the silver lining, when it learnt that Deccan Chargers were on the verge of breaking the code; but the very next day, its team owner claimed that there were no plans to sign up Abdul Razzaq; Lalit Modi, as can be expected now, bad-mouthed all the reports.

What happened in those 24 hours? Why did the Chargers chicken out? Why was Razzaq dropped as a hot potato? The PCB, in an attempt to save face, declared that the NOCs to its players were being withdrawn; in other words, Pakistans players will now surely not be seen in action during IPL-3.

The point is: why was such a delicate issue handled so clumsily? If there was a nudge from the government, or if the IPL or its franchisees had fears, why didn't they contest the pact at the right time? Worse, does this mean that we will never see Pakistans players in the IPL again?

Sadly, the beast has been cut loose. Now it is Pakistan; tomorrow, the Australians might be forced out too. What will be the fate of the IPL then? Will it really hold its charm and allure? Won't the bandwagon shift to another venue, another country? For good? The implications and ramifications are too scary to even contemplate.

At the other end of the spectrum, we have hockey. The country is bracing for a World Cup; but nobody associated with the game really seems interested. Everybody is fighting to wrest power, or to stay in control; why else would two associations go to court, at virtually the last moment? Look at their timing, and you can easily comprehend their real motivation.

Pargat Singh went to the extent of saying that there is a sports mafia in operation. These are strong words from a former India captain; they don't augur well for Indian hockey, or indeed Indian sport. It is high time the government stepped in and cleaned up the rot.

Otherwise, forget a silver lining, we won't even be able to see the horizon amidst the dark clouds.

India has just scored an emphatic 2-0 victory over Bangladesh. Barring the opening day of the two-Test series that witnessed a middle-order collapse, India were pretty much on top for most of the series.

Nonetheless, the series also exposed certain chinks in our armour. We need to work on them as sterner test awaits us against South Africa beginning with the first Test on February 6. After all, the series is being billed as the battle for the champion Test team in the world.

1. Middle-order batting:  Due to injuries, our middle order is suddenly looking brittle. Ok, we have Tendulkar in great nick. But Dravid, Laxman and Yuvraj are likely to miss the first Test. Indications are Yuvraj will miss the entire Test series. So what do we do?

I think India has adequate bench strength. The question is whether the selectors will go for the real guys or opt for their favourites. If the selectors think that Dinesh Karthik, that little darling of the five wise men, will shore up the middle order, then God help India.

Sure, we need experience. But I am not saying, call back Ganguly. Or even Mohammed Kaif.

I have four fresh names: Cheteshwar Pujara, S Badrinath, Manish Pandey and Manoj Tiwary. The last three are among the finest fielders in India.

Pujara and Badrinath are the two unluckiest cricketers in India today. Each of them has scored centuries by dozens. Badrinath, especially, has also proved his worth during India A tours abroad. Obviously either the selectors don't like his face or they know about a major chink in his batting that nobody else can find on television. I know he is 29 but so what? Even Mr Cricket, Michael Hussey made his Test debut at 30.

Both Badrinath and Pujara are tailor-made for Test cricket. They have solid defence, decent footwork and play the ball on merit. They can graft and build a long, patient innings. Surely, both deserve a chance.

Pandey and Tiwary are two of a kind. Both have the game to succeed on the big stage. After his recent stunning ton in the Ranji Trophy, Pandey is high on confidence too. Tiwary has fallen off the mindmap. But his 102 off 123 balls for East Zone against Central Zone, shows he too isn't short on self-belief.

I know we have Virat Kohli, Rohit Sharma, Raina and Rahanes too. Undoubtedly, Sharma is classy. But he needs to prove more consistently that he is still not prone to throwing his wicket away. At the India level, one can't afford that. Raina has a short ball problem. Which against a pace attack like South Africa can be a serious liability. Rahane is flashy. One doubts whether he is ready for Test cricket. At the moment, Kohli looks a decent ODI player. But, by comparison, others are more finished Test material.

2. Spin problem: India has a major spin problem. For all his failings, Harbhajan is still being considered as the team's No 1 spinner. The Bangladesh tour again underlined how ordinary he has become. In the only Test he played, the off-spinner's overall figure was 123 for two (one for 48 and one for 75). Imagine dropping Amit Mishra, a bowler who had taken seven wickets and scored 50 runs in the previous Test to accommodate him?

It is a bit of a mystery why Harbhajan is always thought of as a certainty for the Indian Test team. True, he has done plenty of great things, especially in 2001. But it has been nearly a decade since then. Surely, he is no Murali.

It is not just that Ojha got more wickets than him at the Mirpur Test. Ojha always looked the better bowler. Even Mishra was quite impressive in Chittagong. What makes these two better bowlers than Harbhajan is their willingness to flight the ball. They don't rely on the pitch, its turn and bounce. Unlike Bhajji, they can beat the batsmen in the air.

Spin has always been South Africa's weak spot. We should be willing to play with two spinners. And take our chances.

3. Pace attack: Zahir bowled a fabulous late spell in Mirpur. He ended up with 10 wickets, his best figures in a Test match. He also got the man of the match and man of the series awards. But, I feel, he is still a shade below his best. Similarly, Ishant showed plenty of improvement. But he can deliver much more.

The question is: who will be our third paceman, if we decide to play that combination? With Nehra and Sreesanth injured, who will it be: Sudeep Tyagi, Karnataka rookie A Mithun, R P Singh - who? Your guess is as good as mine. I would prefer anybody with a bit of raw pace. I enjoyed watching both Rubel Hossain and Shafiul Islam, who were nippier than our paceman. It really hurts when you belong to a nation of 140 crore people and have top pacemen bowling at 128-132 kmph. But do we have anybody to fit the bill?

Here's my 11 for the first Test: Sehwag, Gambhir, Pujara, Tendulkar, Badrinath, Tiwary/Pandey, Dhoni, Mishra, Zaheer, Ishant, Pragyan. 12th man: M Vijay. Reserves: Tiwary/Pandey, Sudeep Tyagi.

With this team, we can definitely take on the visitors. At the moment, they are having their own share of administrative problems. The national coach has quit. And the selection panel has been sacked. Chaos in the enemy camp can only be good news for us.

The Pakistan episode of the IPL is turning out to be like a gripping murder mystery. The body is there for all to see; there are enough suspects, motives and witnesses too. But somehow we fail to zero in on the culprit, even though he is floating right in front of our eyes. The first clue behind the mystery surfaced on Friday afternoon. Even as Lalit Modi nudged her at the press conference, belatedly, Shilpa Shetty thundered: ‘‘Why should the Pakistan players’ security be our onus?’’ Then she said something-something about political parties and loony groups.

 
The second part was important, but not critical; the first part was the real clue, the giveaway. A quick follow-up and a few calls later, the mystery solved itself: The government had refused to provide security for the players. For any player, not just Pakistan’s.

 
The immediate thought was: Very good. Why should the government do anything? Isn’t this a commercial venture? If the IPL can pour out millions on players, and make billions in return, shouldn’t it take care of all aspects related to the tournament too, including security?

 
Absolutely. Except that the motivation was not so straightforward. To unravel it, we need to go back a little, into the past: In the inaugural year, the government was like a silent partner; it turned almost every stone to make the ambitious project a runaway hit: visas, security, the IPL bosses simply had to name it, and they got them on a golden platter.

 
The next year, however, the government became a hostile partner: it refused to play sweet ball, explaining that it could not guarantee foolproof security to the players, or to the tournament itself, owing to the General Elections. Instead of negotiating, or trying to convince the seat, Modi promptly whisked away the IPL to South Africa.

 
Many in the Congress saw it as a slap on their face; more importantly, they were also worried that the backlash might hurl them into the wilderness again. Luckily, cricket proved to be a minor player, the mandate didn’t turn negative and it returned to power.

 
But then, a hurt political party is more dangerous than a woman spurned: it was just a question of time before Modi would be made to pay for his audacity, for taking on the government itself. Is it a surprise, then, that the Congress mustered all its muscle in Rajasthan a few months later? That it made sure that Modi was humbled in the RCA elections, once again?

 
That, however, wasn’t enough: it was time to hit Modi’s ticket to fame too, the one thing that keeps him on top of the world. In December, it was revealed that visas for Pakistan players would be denied. Unfortunately for those pulling the strings, the move backfired: many saw it as India’s response to 26/11.

 
The fact is the government was not even thinking of that carnage. Expectedly, the little game of revenge soon snowballed into a controversy; it turned so ugly that the political ramifications seemed larger than the attacks itself. It quickly backtracked; visas were issued.
 

All seemed well until the auctions finally took place. Rather unexpectedly, but not too surprisingly, the franchisees didn’t bid for a single Pakistani player. They were, of course, within their rights to choose who they bought and who they ignored. But it wasn’t all as simple as that.

 
Just imagine the fate of the IPL if one of the political parties, or loony groups, had attacked the players, or violently disrupted a match: that would have been the end of the IPL. Forever. India too, then, would have become a Pakistan, a Zimbabwe for the rest of the cricket world. (It could still happen, thanks to the presence of the Australian players).

 
In such a scenario, the franchisees did the best thing possible. It is impossible to guess if they arrived at a secret pact; we don’t even know if the IPL itself asked them to go slow. (Would it have been better if the Pakistani players were not put in the pool? Of course. But then, there would have been other charges, other accusations.)

 
The moot point is that it is more than apparent that the government didn’t give any directives. We don’t know how it is going to firefight out of this hole; but we can be sure of one thing: in the eyes of the people, at least, there is only one culprit, one murderer. Sooner or earlier, Pakistan is going to hit back. Let’s brace for it.