'I am Pakistan Super League'

If you live in Pakistan, India, or any other cricket-loving country, there's no way you don't know me. Many of you were probably just kids when Uncle Zaka Ashraf thought about launching a league in Pakistan, inspired by India's rising dominance through the Indian Premier League. He spent millions, designed a logo, even brought in people from abroad—but still, the project couldn't materialize. And so, I was shelved away in the record room, collecting dust.

Then came Uncle Najam Sethi. Though he didn't formally carry the label of Chairman due to certain constraints, everyone knew he was more powerful than Chairman Shahryar Khan. People would say he had no understanding of cricket — how could he organize a league? But he proved everyone wrong. Even people within the board opposed him, but he became like Salman Khan in Wanted — "Once I make a commitment, I don't even listen to myself."

He faced immense difficulty selling team franchises, but then Nadeem Omar, the Rana Brothers (Atif and Sameen), Ali Naqvi, Javed Afridi, and Salman Iqbal believed in me. They invested their valuable time and money, and introduced me to the world.

Back then, Pakistan's security situation wasn't ideal to invite foreign players, so Uncle Sethi held the matches in Dubai. People, expecting financial disaster, were surprised to see the PCB earning revenue from me — even the franchises made some money. The next year, the final was held in Lahore, thanks in large part to Uncle Nadeem and Uncle Javed, who convinced their players to come to Pakistan.

Now, this might sound like I'm bragging, but I have no shame in saying this: I played a key role in bringing international cricket back to the country. My presence helped overcome fear, and players began returning to Pakistan, slowly forgetting the Sri Lankan team attack in Lahore. Today, Pakistan is able to host the ICC Champions Trophy and is currently hosting the Women's World Cup Qualifiers — all made possible because of me. I helped uncover new talent too.

Look at leagues in Bangladesh or Sri Lanka—they've struggled. Even England hasn't been able to properly establish "The Hundred." I never claimed to be like the IPL, but don't underestimate me either. Before me, PCB relied only on ICC's annual funding. Yes, broadcasting rights helped, but now, I'm one of the board's biggest sources of revenue. PCB is now counted among the richer boards in the world, thanks to me.

Usually, parents value the child who supports the household—but not in my case. For the past few years, I've felt alone. The uncles I turned into celebrities now seem displeased with me, and it hurts. Who chops down a tree that bears fruit? Yet it feels like some of my own people are trying to cut my roots. The world praises me, but some insiders are too busy finding faults. What do they hope to gain from this? If their criticism damages me, what will they do then?

If I ask you to name a few major business tycoons in Pakistan, you might not know. But every child knows the names of PSL franchise owners. Things were fine with the original five uncles — they took the real risk, not knowing whether they'd gain anything. But when the sixth came along, trouble began. The first one escaped by declaring bankruptcy. The new one has been whining about losses ever since. No one forced them to join PSL — if they want out, they can leave. But no, they just want to blame me.

Yes, I know there are problems: different fees for each team, but equal profit shares; no perpetuity rights ; even when Lahore Qalandars or other fill stadiums, gate money gets divided equally. These issues need solutions. Sethi Uncle and Salman Sarwar Butt designed this model — it shouldn't have been like this. Now, with rising valuations, the fees will increase even more. Multan Sultans already pay Rs. 1.08 billion, and that's excluding other expenses. Maybe that's why they vent by criticizing me.

If you hate me so much, let it go. There are others interested in investing in Pakistani cricket. They can come in. Ali Bhai, who used to mute his mic in meetings, is now vocal in the media. The problem in this country is, the more negative you are, the more your video goes viral. Just check YouTube — positive content barely gets views.

Uncle Mohsin Naqvi should investigate who's trying to tarnish my name. He should advise them — and if they don't listen, tell them: "If you're so upset, then leave — we'll find someone else."

Uncle Salman Naseer has started to look after me well, but he can't do everything alone. He needs a team.

PSL's competitive cricket is praised even against the IPL—so why not make me even bigger? The more you support me, the greater the benefit. But if you want to turn me into the Bangladeshi league, then go ahead, do what you want. But I believe none of you truly want that.

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