Cricket at The Qazzafi in The 90s
The fan experience of cricket at the Qazzafi stadium, Lahore, was very different in the late 90s and early 00s to what it’s now. The comparatively minimal security meant the theatrics surrounding the match were almost as interesting as the main event.
Matches of the double wicket championship was my first time going to cricket in a stadium. My brother and I were still in school, and cricket was an easy sell for us to our decision-maker, our mother. It was wholesome entertainment that you were going to with your friends and neighbors.
After getting that all-important approval, it was time to plan. Like typical fans, we planned everything, from what to wear and where to sit to the food and drinks to sneak in. But when it came to the fun of the event, a large part of it was unplanned.
For us, this meant seeing outrageous things and meeting people looking to sneak in without paying. Tempted by the thrill, we were happy to help the free riders.
In those days, there were a couple of ways of entering the stadium without purchasing a ticket. But, before the trick we used, I must mention an extreme method people in the entrance line witnessed. It can be described as the Spiderman method: here’s why I say that:
Free Entry for Spiderman
Between the outer entrance for an enclosure and the adjacent stadium wall, there was a gap of around 5 ft. You could see this gap if you come towards any gate from the outside (except the pavilion).
The best part for free riders was that there wasn’t any security patrolling the outer walls.
I know it’s hard to believe today, but the only security person at the entrance was checking tickets standing close or slightly inside the gate (in the shade).
Every few minutes, you would see people attempting their fate. Placing their hands and feet on the opposite walls of the gap, they would start their ascend. The crowd was usually supportive, allowing the person to attempt without fear of being called out.
It was at least a 20 ft climb, so there were a lot of unsuccessful attempts. But, every once in a while, someone did manage to reach the top (comment below if you’re one of them🙂).
The successful climb was met with cheers from the crowd and a hands-in-the-air acknowledgement from the climber. Needless to say, it also led to an attempt by the security to bring him down (usually a verbal attempt).
For the climber, the test wasn’t over, though. There was one other, shorter climb but without the same walls and a narrow gap.
This time they would have to rely on a combination of jumping and wall climbing and/or a helping hand from someone on the inside. Here too, some made it, and some had to retreat. The line for entering the stadium was long, so you usually witnessed several people trying their hand at a free ride.
We all fancied ourselves as athletes, but none wanted to try the Spiderman. I put it down to fear of failure and of tearing up our pants in public.
Re-Entering The Entrants
The method we used was suggested by the people looking to enter for free. It wasn’t a covert method, but it was definitely less in your face than climbing a freaking wall. What we did was use the authority’s own rule against them🙃.
The Rule was you could go outside the stadium once during the match. This was usually during an innings break, but they weren’t strict about it. The procedure was simple: they tore your part of the ticket into half, and you showed that half to re-enter.
After entering the stadium with our legit tickets, we climbed the stairs to the topmost section.
From there, boosted by the others, one of us leaned on the main stadium wall and threw the ticket to our new friend waiting outside. Now it was up to them to convince the security that they were re-entering, not entering.
The most common ploy was to say that we went out of another gate and wanted to enter through this one. This negated the question: “I haven’t entered you through here.” If the security said go back from the same gate you left the stadium, you went to another one to try your luck.
Double Wicket Cricket
I’ll end by ranting about the forgotten sport of intl. double wicket cricket. This format was 10X more exciting than T20 cricket. It was a five overs-a-side game with a pair of cricketers per team given the license to kill. Getting out meant losing 10 runs and an urge to quickly make up for the loss.
The format led to some of the wildest batting displays of that time, concentrated within one tournament.
Note: The correct spellings were, are, and will always be Qazzafi, not Gadaffi.
