If you go to a random tea stall and listen to casual conversations in developing nations, such as Pakistan, Sri Lanka, or Afghanistan, more often than not, you can hear people bashing the government for not doing a good job and how they hate their country. But if their country were to play against another, they would be cheering and even celebrating the same people if their team were to win at the same tea stall. So, it's easy to understand why people love and support their teams, but why do individuals fall madly in love with individual players? Why did Sachin Tendulkar rise to God-like status in India? Why does love for an athlete still surpass love for a country sometimes? Sachin has come into almost every circumstance in his distinguished career. There were times when he fought fights that were lost. I am certain that Sachin Tendulkar's ardent lover had to pray at least once that even if India lost the match, Sachin would score a century. It is incorrect to say that we love athletes because they represent our respective countries, because you will find millions of fans of Cristiano Ronaldo or Leo Messi in the subcontinent who love them as much as Virat Kohli, if not more, is loved by Indians. South Africa's trump card was AB de Villiers; you don't cheer for him; you pray and hope he gets out as early as possible. Still, when South Africa toured India in 2015, AB needed two runs on the last delivery of the innings in the first ODI, and the whole stadium cheered for him to get to the century, and the crowd exploded when he did. Then why do athletes love us? Perhaps it's because they motivate us, that they can do things that we, average people, can't do, or maybe other athletes can. In the 2019 World Cup finals, Benjamin Stokes did something special. He gained the status of an icon; even if he retires today, he has cemented his place in history books. Or maybe there is something metaphysical about it that we can't scientifically understand yet. Every lover of cricket wants a player who leads the game in his team; it makes us sleep better at night. Pakistani fans are dying for the appearance of a player in order to tell the world that we belong here. We have been starving for a player of his status ever since Wasim Akram retired. I didn't even mention a Pakistani player once, because we don't have one. Inzamamul Haq, Younis Khan, or Mohammad Yousuf is sure to come to mind, but none of them are as strong as Sachin or Lara. And no Pakistani player, like Virat, ABD, or Stokes, has had an impact recently. On the other hand, Wasim Akram was, and is, the greatest fast-bowler of all time. Ask any batsman; at the top of the list, they have Wasim, be it Lara, Steve Waugh, or Michael Atherton. You wouldn't hear Glenn McGrath, James Anderson, Dale Steyn, or Shane Warne claiming they're the hardest batsman they've ever faced, Inzi, Younis, or Yousaf. The cricketing world lost its mind when a young, vibrant, and insecure Mohammad Amir appeared in the late 2000s; the world had found another Akram, 15 more years of pure joy. Pakistani fans were wildly dancing; again, we were the kings. Since his return, nobody has been prepared for the tragic Spot-fixing fiasco and he has never been the same. We got so cornered and so desperate that we began to equate the likes of Ahmed Shehzad and Umar Akmal with the likes of Virat Kohli, who had the world at his feet at that stage, and he had nothing more to prove, but still showed up as if it were his first match. We began to lose confidence when that did not work out. Maybe we're done; we've started blaming the mechanism, the management, maybe all the resources have been drained by Pakistan. Shahid Afridi famously claimed in the last stages of his career: "There is no talent in Pakistan, I'm still better than most." Then Babar Azam, regarded as the cousin of the Akmal brothers, came into being. He was not taken seriously by people, thinking him another false promise. But Babar Azam was different; that was not what we knew. He made a name for himself as the years went by. He started scoring runs, precious runs, for fun against strong teams notched up for decades. Here comes a guy who on Australian soil will score a century against Australia. We forgot what it feels like; Indian fans have never been hungry for that, nor have fans from South Africa or England. One after another, they produce batting maestros. And then Babar Azam was compared to Virat Kohli, to the point that even Babar Azam was tired of the endless comparison that he implored not to equate him with international legends, but to compare him with national stars such as Javed Miandad, Inzi, Younis and Yousuf. Babar knows for sure that his contrast with Virat Kohli will not stop; if he continues to perform like that, then the debate will burn even more. Most definitely, the batting record books will never be challenged by Babar Azam; the number of runs or centuries they have scored will not challenge Virat, Steven Smith, or Sachin's batting records. He has the potential, not because he may not be as successful as them, but simply because he does not get the same opportunities. Steven Smith has played 34 of his 73 games at home in test matches at an average of 71.14; his away record is similarly staggering, 60.15, and by comparing his test record to others, let's not make a fool of ourselves, Smithy is the Bradman of our time. Virat has played 39 home matches and has scored 68.42 on average; when playing abroad, his average decreases to 44.36. Kane Williamson scored 58.31 in 38 home matches on average, with his average falling to 42.53 in 36 games. At home, Joe Root played more games, 53, than he has abroad, 41; at home, he averages 50.55 compared to 44.27 away. Babar Azam has played only three games in Pakistan since his debut and scored a century in each match. Even if the runs were against relatively poor teams, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh, but if it had been Australia, England or India, we all know that he would do wonders. Make no mistake, it is not a home for the UAE; it is a neutral spot. Numbers are not enough to judge a batsman, and Babar Azam may not be able to play 150 test matches in his career, but he needs to win games for him to enter the ranks of giants, period. Right now, Ben Stokes is the hottest commodity in the cricketing world; every team in the world needs him on their side, not because he scores an insane amount of runs or tops the wicket-taking charts, but simply because he single-handedly wins matches. Babar is not an all-rounder, but to achieve that stage, he must find ways to carry his team over the line. When you see a Pakistani fan comparing a relatively young Babar to the batting giants of our age, in his or her ignorance, do not judge us. Since we have been longing for a batsman to look up to, who is ours, who represents us, who scores centuries against Australia and England, who play in the world cups, Who faces the world with a relaxed mind, and lets his bat speak out. So, if we are excessively excited or seem to give him more than he deserves, please bear with us. We've been aching for him; we want to see him take on the best in the world and make their hearts painful. "So one day in the distant future, when Pat Cummins was asked who was the toughest batsman he had to bowl with, he would answer "Babar Azam.