People latch onto particular players for all sorts of odd reasons, developing long, intense, one-way relationships with them. Maybe you attended the one match where an otherwise poor player achieved momentary competence or perhaps they were the first player you saw responding to ‘give us a wave’.
It can be anything. It can even be that your name sounds a bit like a drunk person saying a team-mate’s name – a team-mate’s name which when mispronounced sounds like ‘animal’.
So thank you Anamul Haque. Your work is now perhaps done. You have drawn to our attention Mominul Haque; we have noticed that he has scored two hundreds and two fifties in his first nine Test innings; and we have consequently, probably, inadvertently adopted him.
Mominul is currently averaging 83.42 and will probably never average that much again. These two hundreds against New Zealand will probably come to be seen as aberrative; an odd and freakish flash of early form which committed us to years of imagining that every innings of 22 not out could have become 222 not out if only it hadn’t rained for four days.
In 2015, Bangladesh will finally drop him after a long run of low scores. The very next match will be a high-scoring draw and we’ll be livid because if Mominul had played, he would have recaptured form and confidence and gone on a run-scoring spree the like of which has never been seen before.
Why couldn’t they have held on for one more Test? Why couldn’t they have given Mominul Haque one more innings? Some people can’t see greatness even when it’s right in front of their eyes.