Wasim Akram was both a rascal and a cricketing genius. In his hands a ball performed the sort of contortions more often associated with pixies flashing around in the skies. They embarked upon journeys more complicated than any previously undertaken between popping creases. His deliveries seemed to have second thoughts halfway down the pitch whereupon they would change direction, thereby confounding the defences carefully constructed by his opponent. Against Akram at his most fiendish there could be no security, for a piece of wood cannot keep at bay charges of electricity.

His mischievous side was captured by a piratical face and gleaming eyes that hinted at a darkness within. Certainly it was easy to imagine Wasim with a knife in his mouth as he swung through the ropes before tossing his enemies overboard with a grin and a cheer. He could easily have been cast as a matinee idol or as the villain in a pantomime. No one could ever tell whether angelic or devilish forces had a stronger hold upon his heart. Suffice it to say that the struggle had an epic quality, and that it was amply reflected in his sporting career. During the course of a single afternoon Wasim could upset his supporters and charm the ill-disposed. Upon the field and off it, he cast a spell.

Undoubtedly he has been amongst the greatest fast bowlers of his time. Certainly he was the most interesting to watch because he was daring, dangerous, and never dull. He resembled a magician taking delight in performing feats supposedly beyond the power of man. Sometimes they were illusions and sometimes trickery was involved, but none of it could have worked unless Wasim did indeed have wonderful powers at his disposal. He was an inspired bowler, a chivalrous and yet unscrupulous propeller of the cricket ball whose moods were expressed in the pace of his deliveries.

Of course, he was also infuriating and that was part of his mystery, the sense that he was not a simple soul sending down his scintillating productions but, rather, a wilful, moody, calculating and cunning customer as likely to be ignoring his captain and following his own whims as playing his part in the collective effort. He was an idealistic bowler always searching for the perfect delivery, the incomparable spell, yet he was touched and sometimes overtaken by cynicism, for he knew the darkness of his own soul and reckoned, correctly, that the world was not all it appeared to be. In short, he was an artist who was obliged to paint his pictures within the confines of a cricket team and within the parameters of a cricket match.

Wasim will be remembered for his most brilliant moments, not least the stunning burst produced on the great day in Melbourne when Pakistan won the World Cup. Wasim's destruction of Allan Lamb and other members of the England top order will never be forgotten by those privileged to watch it. None of the batsmen committed an error, none was complacent or showed the slightest disrespect. Everyone was fully prepared to counter the threat of this left-armer with the flashing arm, a man who bowled in his run and could make the ball swing in different directions with some slight and hidden adjustment of the wrist. England watched Wasim closely, built a wall around its wickets, and still could not prevent the havoc wrought by this cricketing tornado. At such times, Wasim was irresistible.

He did not lower himself to buying wickets, or maintaining a line and length till eventually his opponents lost patience. Rather, he seized the ball and took the wickets with a combination of force and supreme skill. Moreover, he was armed with a new ball, pristine and white, free from interference. There have been more reliable bowlers, faster bowlers, more accurate bowlers, but there cannot have been any with as wide a range of deliveries.

Wasim's mischief cannot be ignored either, for all men must be called to account for the entirety of their activities. Along the way Wasim fought bitterly with his various captains, was suspected, though not convicted, of tampering with cricket balls, and allegedly became involved with bookmakers. Although he protested his innocence, there will be black marks against his name when the reckoning is taken. He has been a magnificent cricketer, but perhaps not a true champion.

Fortunately, Wasim leaves behind many happy cricketing memories. After all, it was a long and brilliant career, and he could be delightful and amusing. Once it was customary to create beautiful illusions about sportsmen and to imagine that they inhabited a saintly world removed from our daily discourse. Of couse it was all poppycock. Nowadays cricketers are regarded merely as members of their society and reflections of their time. Recent biographies of past players reveal the flaws of man. Wasim is living proof that top sportsmen are only superior upon the field.

Cricketers like Wasim are not to be judged merely in terms of figures. He has a remarkable record, but that is not the point. No one doubts that Wasim was a great cricketer. Rather, he is to be judged by his contribution to the game, as a matchwinner and a man who proved that bowling could be as entertaining as batting. Between them Wasim and Shane Warne revived the art of bowling, thereby helping to restore interest in Test cricket. Neither belonged in a vicarage; both dared to challenge the orthodoxies. Wasim and Warne were radicals in a conservative game. They reminded us that bowlers are not mere machines. Their wizardry was as much a form of protest against servility as Larwood's bodyline. They were artists and refused to kowtow. Admittedly, they were caught with their fingers in the pie, but could argue that they had done most of the baking.