In Australia they call him, somewhat grudgingly, "The Kid." But since his debut, Shahid Khan Afridi's biggest dilemma has been his inability to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he is not more than seventeen years old. But there he is, bearing a world record, a couple of one-day fifties, and a full load of Electronic Engineering courses at the Islamic Science College. Naturally, he tires.

At the appointed time, I ring Shahid's suite in the Shalimar Hotel in Lahore where the training camp for the Sharjah tournament is in progress, to discover he is sleeping the peaceful sleep of youth. Moin Khan, the team's wicket-keeper, picks up the phone and apologizes for his room-mate's indolence. "It is eight O'clock and look at him--he is still dozing," Moin says with paternal disappointment. "Wait till Wasim bhai hears about this. We have nets in half an hour. Hold on, I'll wake him up." I picture the young Shahid being kicked in the ribs. Wicket-keepers from Pakistan are no-nonsense blokes.

Moments later, I hear Afridi. "As-salaam-ulaikum. Maaf karna, ji. Thoda ziyaada so gaya. Kal raat bahot der se aaye hum. Pura din practice karte rahe.," he says in an impressively deep voice. Then he wonders if we could converse in Urdu. "I could answer your questions better that way. Or if you wish, let's talk in Punjabi." We settled on Urdu.

Right off the bat, I ask him how old he really is.
"I have just turned seventeen, ji," he says with a politeness that is reminiscent of Mohammed Azharuddin, the early years.
Can he prove it?
"Yes, look at my school records. But I don't have a birth certificate." He doesn't seem unduly concerned.

I take him back to the fourth of October, '96, to the day he made the record that may never be broken. "Actually, they flew me in as a leg-spinner. The evening before, in the nets, I was hitting everybody. (Captain) Saeed Anwar came up to me and said, 'Tomorrow, you will go one down.' I agreed. Saeed said, 'We need 360 + runs to qualify for the finals, so better play fast when you get in.' My luck held and I got the record."

He makes it sound....casual. I urge for more emotion. He thinks for a while and says, "I was very happy." Close enough.

Televisions across Pakistan flickered to life when he slammed Muralitharan for four and smiled his mega-watt smile. A hundred off 37 balls. Within a few hours, Shahid Afridi had become a household name. "Yes, I became very popular after that. It was a very memorable time. Everybody kept calling me," he says, still in a monotone. Then he brightens a shade. "Even girls. So many girls. I got lots of proposals." (In case the nubile are wondering, he has no plans to marry yet.)

Shahid admits he has a unique problem. "I just want to hit every ball out of the ground. I can't help it." He is receiving 'help' from an unlikely source-- Saeed Anwar, not the most intuitive choice to dictate the virtues of slow play. "Saeed often says, 'Play slow. Not every ball can be hit.' He encourages me to spend several hours every weekend in the nets at Gaddafi Stadium. So, from now, I will try and spend more time at the wicket."

His motive is not to dishearten bowlers into early retirement, but to prove he can switch off a few of the rabid strokes and melt into the low-octane world of Test cricket. "I want to be as good as Javed Miandad. He could do anything. To beat him, I must work hard, be more consistent. I have been practicing a lot since the record. Inshallah, I'll be given a chance soon."

"I don't think my game is suited for Test cricket." His candor is refreshing. Indeed, droll flirtations with worthless deliveries have frequently led to disappointing dismissals. "But I am already displaying some patience." He is referring, presumably, to the 53 off 54 he made in the World Series Final #1 against the West Indies in January. It was Shahid's most mature batting turn, with flashes of introspection and tenderness mixed with the trademark manic magic. Best of all, it was a performance grounded in a philosophy surprisingly more substantive than the one that marked his famous hundred. "Mushtaaq (Mohammed) saab has taught me to control my impulsive nature. He says I can do more by doing less." You must watch Shahid mis-sweep extravagantly to understand what Mohammed means.

So is this the end of the kooky crowd pleaser? "No, I will continue to play fast, but I will bat much longer. I didn't know half the things about batting when I made that hundred; but I have learnt and improved, since then." Hear that, bowlers of the world?

Like most Pakistani cricketers, he hopes to play quite outrageously against India. "I nearly cried when we lost the Quarter-Finals of the World Cup (March '96) to them," he recounts. "I don't know when we'll play again but I will save my best for that day."

He cares little that the Australians are picking on his bowling action: "They bring up these issues every time they cannot play a certain bowler."

"I have ambitions, but I will not exploit my good fortune. I entered this team with dignity and that is how I will handle myself. When and if I have to leave, I will do so with honor."

It is strange that Shahid's portrayals with the bat depict him as a frustrated teenager teeming with rage, an obvious ad for hyper-action figures, because in real-life he comes across as sensitive and insecure when he acts the part of the prodigious cricketer. He rarely gives interviews, but when he talks, it is with a humbling serenity that belies his explosive batsmanship.

It will not be long before he is introduced to some disturbing facets of Pakistan cricket. Mercifully, he gives the impression of existing on a spiritual level beyond the grasps of corruption. He is deeply religious and leaves everything beyond his control to Allah. "Cricket is very important to me. But, if I can't be a successful player, I have, Mashallah, my education to fall back on."

He would rather take on his father's business than barge into politics. Mr. Afridi owns a car dealership. And though we can be sure that Shahid will make an aggressive car salesman, we pray that he is not forced to change his occupation any time soon. After all, Shahid Afridi has saved cricket.

Shahid Afridi in Numbers

Thanks: Umair Khan for your questions.

Copyright©1997, "On Drive", Mesmer Productions. All rights reserved.