‘Tez dalta hoon, baki tuppa, shappa’

He spots the glossy tournament media book makes a guess to this reporter’s identity. ‘‘Koi magazine se hain, kya?’’ He flips through the pages and reaches the Pakistan section, which has mug shots of all the players. ‘‘Good, aap ne sab ka photo chaap diya. We played well.’’

Ask him to talk about himself and he goes all modest. ‘‘I still can’t believe that I am at a World Cup and can’t believe I am the man of the match in the first game.’’ He says that his father, a hospital clerk, finally realised this past week just how good he was. ‘‘He called up to say ‘You never told us that you were so good’. Even I didn’t know!’’

Talk about his bowling strength or his stock ball and he keeps it very elementary; no physics or aerodynamics here. ‘‘Tez dalta hoon aur baki tuppa, shappa.’’

Talking to him one realises he hasn’t moved very far out of Attock. (He still gets ragged for his small-town roots by his teammates, especially the boys from Lahore and Karachi. ‘‘Say Rawalpindi, only then they will understand. Rawalpindi Express is world famous,’’ says one smug city slicker.)

But it was in Attock that Ayub picked up the rudiments of tape-ball cricket, the game played with a tennis ball wrapped in duct tape. ‘‘Those small bets we had on games, I was a regular. Schools were secondary, night games were worth practicing for the whole day,’’ he says.

They certainly were considering that he has earned several cash awards in the range of Rs 500-5000 with his tape-ball skills. But the stakes got higher when just last year he was spotted in a “real” cricket ball inter-district game; his 48 wickets in 10 such under-19 games earned him Rs 25,000.

Earlier this week, in the first away game of his life, his 3/18 earned him a cut-glass memento. No cash — but Ayub knows that there’s lots in store.

Ask coach Mansoor Rana about this very Pakistani trait of unearthing these speed demons and he says, ‘‘Most of the times it is an open trial. And most of the time suddenly there will be shout from a corner of the field with several nets. Somebody will say ‘Mil gaya, mil gaya’ and the rest rush there. Most of the time we spot a kid running in as if to save his life and hurling the ball as to take a life.’’

Running in fast to save his life is something that speaks a lot about these raw Pakistan pacers from humble backgrounds. With speed they can change their life.

In the years to come Ayub might play for Pakistan and may even get a county contract and endorsements. He might let his hair grow, get an ascent and an attitude too. You don’t know he might even catch a fancy for mobikes too.