Pakistan cricket often thrives on paradoxes, and Saim Ayub is its latest one. He is a player who can destroy batting lineups with his offbeat carrom-style bowling in the powerplay, yet he struggles to survive with the bat when opening for his country. This strange contradiction has turned him into one of the most discussed names in Pakistan cricket.
On one hand, he has grabbed six wickets in this Asia Cup, most of them in the crucial first six overs. His economy rate of just 5.60 makes him more effective than many established bowlers. On the other, his recent batting form has been disastrous, with several ducks and nervous starts. His only moments of batting brilliance seem like distant memories.
Fans and selectors find themselves torn. Is Ayub a failed opener, a surprise bowling option, or a long-term project worth investing in? For now, Pakistan continues to back him, hoping his talent will someday outweigh his flaws.
The Rise of an Unlikely Powerplay Bowler
Saim Ayub’s bowling is perhaps the most fascinating subplot of this Asia Cup. He has taken five of his six wickets in the powerplay, a phase where batters usually dominate. His average of 5.60 per wicket is among the best, and his economy rate is lower than Jasprit Bumrah in this phase. For a part-time spinner, those numbers are extraordinary.
Ayub’s style is unusual. He bowls with carrom-flick variations, using subtle wrist movements to turn the ball both ways. Batsmen often misjudge the spin, falling into traps early in the innings. Against India, he dismissed Shubman Gill and Tilak Verma in the space of a few overs, swinging the contest Pakistan’s way.
What makes his rise as a bowler intriguing is that Pakistan never planned for this. He entered the team as an explosive left-handed opener, but his bowling has unexpectedly become his strongest asset. It raises the question: should Pakistan rethink his role entirely?
The Powerplay Paradox: Wickets with Ball, Failures with Bat
Saim Ayub’s cricket identity is tied to the powerplay. With the ball, he is lethal — six wickets in this Asia Cup and an economy of just 5.60 prove his effectiveness. Yet, with the bat in the same six overs, he becomes Pakistan’s biggest risk. His repeated first-over dismissals show how fragile his opening role remains. This paradox is why fans debate whether he should even open the batting, like he did against England.
Patience is not a trait often associated with Pakistan cricket. Yet, Ayub’s case forces selectors to consider a long-term view. Dropping him could waste rare left-handed talent, but persisting could cost early wickets in big matches. The real question is whether Pakistan can afford to wait for that one innings that transforms him into a permanent match-winner.
The Struggle of the Left-Handed Opener
If Ayub’s bowling has surprised fans, his batting has frustrated them. Since his debut in 2023, he has shown only glimpses of potential. His most famous innings remains an 8-ball 27 against New Zealand at Eden Park, where he unleashed his “no-look scoop” that instantly went viral. But that was more than a year ago, and he has rarely repeated such fireworks.
In fact, 16% of his powerplay runs in T20Is still come from that single knock. Since then, his record has been inconsistent: four ducks in his last 11 innings and only four half-centuries in total. Worse, he has been dismissed eight times in the first over of an innings. Those numbers suggest he might not be comfortable as an opener, yet Pakistan continues to back him at the top.
The idea of Ayub appeals strongly to Pakistan fans. He is a stylish left-hander, and comparisons to Saeed Anwar always spark nostalgia. But the reality has been harsh: inconsistency, nervous starts, and collapses under pressure.
Fans’ Blind Hope and Afridi Comparisons
Saim Ayub’s journey mirrors another Pakistani enigma: Shahid Afridi. Afridi’s career thrived on moments of brilliance surrounded by long stretches of mediocrity. Like Afridi, Ayub inspires hope every time he walks out to bat. Fans believe that one day, in a crucial match, he will play the innings of his life.
Statistically, the parallels are uncanny. In fewer matches than Afridi, Ayub already has as many ducks and half-centuries in T20Is. Just like Afridi later called himself a “bowling allrounder” to ease pressure on his batting, Ayub’s bowling numbers in this Asia Cup suggest a similar shift in role.
This blind hope is what keeps selectors from dropping him. The belief is that his talent will click at the right time, perhaps in a World Cup knockout, just as Afridi once did. Until then, frustration and expectation will continue to run side by side.
Pakistan’s Selection Dilemma: Stick or Twist?
For selectors, Ayub is both a headache and an opportunity. His bowling offers breakthroughs, yet his batting continues to cost early wickets. Should Pakistan persist with him as an opener, or should they redesign his role as a utility player who bowls in the powerplay and bats down the order?
Pakistan cricket history is filled with players who were backed despite early failures, only to emerge stronger later. Ayub could follow that path if given time and clarity about his role. But Pakistan’s impatient cricketing environment makes such long-term investments risky.
The current Asia Cup has made one thing clear: Ayub is not dispensable. Whether as an opener finding form or as a bowler reinventing himself, he remains central to Pakistan’s tactical plans.
Conclusion
Saim Ayub is Pakistan cricket’s latest contradiction. He has not scored the runs expected of him as an opener, but his bowling has kept him in the squad. With six wickets in the Asia Cup, including key Indian dismissals, his value as a powerplay bowler is undeniable. Yet his batting numbers tell a story of wasted chances and nervous beginnings.
Pakistan’s challenge is to decide how best to use him. Persisting as an opener may not be the answer, but his bowling makes him too valuable to discard. Like Shahid Afridi before him, Ayub may continue to frustrate and inspire in equal measure. The hope is that one day his talent will explode on the biggest stage, turning blind faith into lasting legacy. For now, Ayub remains both a puzzle and a promise — the myth and the math of Pakistan cricket.