I Am PSL — And I Deserve Better

I Am PSL — And Yes, I Have Something to Say

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 first dreamed of launching a T20 league in Pakistan — inspired by India’s IPL dominance. He spent millions designing logos, hiring consultants, and preparing a grand structure. But despite all efforts, the project never took off. And so, I — the Pakistan Super League — was shelved, left to gather dust in a forgotten PCB file cabinet.

Najam Sethi Took a Chance on Me

Then came Uncle Najam Sethi.

Though he didn’t officially wear the Chairman’s crown (thanks to some internal power dynamics), everyone knew he held the reins. Many questioned his understanding of cricket. “How can he launch a league?” they scoffed. But like Salman Khan in Wanted, he made a commitment — and didn’t even listen to himself.

Selling team franchises wasn’t easy. Pakistan wasn’t exactly investor-friendly at the time. But a few believed in me:

• Nadeem Omar

• The Rana Brothers (Atif & Sameen)

• Ali Naqvi

• Javed Afridi

• Salman Iqbal

They risked their time, money, and reputations to breathe life into me. When Pakistan’s security situation prevented foreign players from visiting, Uncle Sethi held the tournament in Dubai. Skeptics predicted a financial disaster — but surprise! Not only did the PCB make money, even the franchises saw profits.

I Helped Bring Cricket Back to Pakistan

The very next year, the final was held in Lahore — thanks to brave hearts like Uncle Nadeem and Uncle Javed, who convinced their players to visit Pakistan.

And no, I’m not bragging — just stating facts:
I played a key role in reviving international cricket in Pakistan.
I helped overcome fear. I helped players move on from the trauma of the Sri Lankan team attack. Today, Pakistan is set to host the ICC Champions Trophy, and just hosted the Women’s World Cup Qualifiers — all because I proved we could do it.

And let’s not forget — I’ve discovered talent too. Shaheen, Shadab, Haris Rauf, Azam Khan… they all found their stage with me.

I Never Claimed to Be IPL. But I’m Not to Be Underestimated.

Look at Bangladesh. Look at Sri Lanka. Even England still struggles with The Hundred.

I never pretended to be the IPL. But don’t underestimate me. Before I came around, PCB’s finances relied heavily on ICC’s yearly share. Yes, broadcasting rights helped — but today, I’m one of PCB’s biggest income sources.

Thanks to me, PCB now sits among the world’s richer boards.

But I Feel Abandoned by My Own

You’d think the child who supports the household would be cherished. Not in my case.

The very “uncles” I turned into celebrities — some now act like I’m a burden. It hurts. Why cut down the tree that bears fruit?

International cricket praises my competitiveness, fans adore me, broadcasters fight for rights — but some within keep nitpicking. Why? If their negativity weakens me, what will they gain?

Franchises: From Unity to Division

Let’s be honest. Things were stable when it was just five of us.

Those first five franchises took the real risk — they invested with no guarantee of returns. But once the sixth came, trouble began. The original owner declared bankruptcy. The new one? Constantly complaining.

No one forced them to join. If they hate me so much, they’re free to leave. But instead, they stay — and blame me for everything.

Yes, I Know There Are Problems

Let’s talk facts:

• Franchise fees differ, but everyone shares profits equally.

• There are no perpetuity rights.

• Even if Lahore Qalandars fill stadiums, gate money is split among all.

This model — designed by Uncle Sethi and Salman Sarwar Butt — wasn’t perfect. Now, with rising team valuations, fees are soaring. Multan Sultans already pay Rs. 1.08 billion a year — not including other expenses. Maybe that’s why they complain. I get it.

But fix the system. Don’t destroy me.

If You Hate Me So Much, Let Me Go

There are other investors eager to enter Pakistan’s cricket scene. Let them in.

These days, even Ali Bhai, who used to mute his mic during meetings, is all over the media.

The irony? In this country, the more negative you are, the more viral your video goes. Positivity gets ignored. Just scroll YouTube.

What I Need Now

Uncle Mohsin Naqvi, please investigate who’s tarnishing my name. Guide them. And if they still don’t listen? Tell them:

“If you’re so upset, leave. We’ll find someone else.”

Uncle Salman Naseer is trying to look after me — but he can’t do everything alone. He needs support.

I have what it takes to grow bigger. Even IPL fans praise my bowling depth. So why not support me and make me greater?

But if you want to reduce me to a Bangladeshi league… go ahead. Chop the tree. Watch it fall.

But deep down, I believe none of you truly want that.

Let’s fix what’s broken — without breaking what works.
I am PSL.
And I deserve better.