— From PSL dreams to political dramas
— When the mic outscores the bat
—Tareen’s team sinks faster than a Titanic-themed ice sculpture in Multan’s summer
By Nazim Malik
Ali Tareen, the ambitious owner of the Multan Sultans, has earned a new moniker among fans: the Sultan of Side Shows. While his PSL franchise flounders at the bottom of the table, Tareen seems far more invested in off-field spectacles than on-field strategy.
The Sultans—unofficially renamed by frustrated fans—have become synonymous with underperformance. Yet Tareen remains undeterred, championing offbeat causes, clashing with the PCB, and critiquing Ali Zafar’s PSL anthems as if he were auditioning for a role in cricket’s version of “The Apprentice.”
Once promising to “take PSL to new heights,” Tareen appears to have delivered on the opposite. As the Sultans struggle to string together coherent innings, fans are left wondering whether their owner has confused the PSL with a Netflix reality show.
Rather than refining tactics in the dugout, Tareen is busy hiring female coaches—an admirable gesture, no doubt, but one that appears more driven by optics than actual outcomes. His post-match focus? “Vibe maintenance.” Actual match results? Left to divine intervention.
Let’s be clear: innovation isn’t the enemy, nor is inclusion. But perhaps, just perhaps, building a squad that can bat and bowl should be somewhere on the agenda?
Critics argue Tareen is playing politics cricket more than cricket cricket. Supporters insist he’s “changing the game.” In a way, they’re right—just not in the way anyone hoped.
Until Tareen begins focusing less on media optics and more on match-day tactics, the only thing the Multan Sultans are likely to lift this season is their luggage on the way back home.
But before this theatrical obsession with “changing the game” took center stage, there was another plot twist: a money laundering case during the Imran Khan government—a government that proudly went after political dynasties and, by extension, their cricket-loving heirs. Tareen was among those caught in the crosshairs.
His defenders cried political victimization, while critics questioned whether PSL ownership was simply a cover for deeper political maneuverings.
Though nothing was proven, the scandal added a darker dimension to his glossy public persona.
Back on the field—if we can still call it that—the Sultans keep losing, even as their owner tweets about PCB blunders and lectures on PSL branding. While his team’s form is in free fall, Tareen is launching podcasts on “Cricket and Feminism” and attending panels as if he were curating a TED Talk rather than a T20 team.
Here’s some free coaching advice: PSL trophies aren’t won with narratives—they’re won with runs, wickets, and a little less Instagram.
Ali Tareen has never shied away from controversy or a camera. Whether it’s taking potshots at Ali Zafar or fashioning himself as the league’s moral compass, he seems far more focused on who’s singing the anthem than who’s scoring the runs.
While Zafar continues to deliver catchy tunes, Tareen delivers… Twitter threads and press releases. Zafar might sing one jingle too many, but at least he’s giving fans what they came for—entertainment. Tareen’s team, meanwhile, can barely give them a match worth watching.
And yet, in a delicious twist of irony, it’s Tareen who questioned Zafar’s relevance—as though PSL anthems require a strike rate.
If there’s anyone who needs to think about stepping back, it’s not the singer—it’s the franchise owner who appears tone-deaf to cricketing reality.
Let’s not forget Tareen’s brief foray into politics. In the 2018 Lodhran by-election (NA-154), he ran an energetic campaign but was soundly defeated by PML-N’s Muhammad Iqbal Shah. At the time, some rumors swirled—alleging that Tareen, the self-declared feminist champion, was involved in the kidnapping of a female rival candidate. However, these accusations were unequivocally denied by the candidate’s own family, exposing the claim as political drama, not criminal fact.
In the end, Ali Tareen may be remembered more for his microphone moments than his team’s match results. Until he learns the difference between brand building and team building, he’ll remain what he’s fast becoming: a headline-maker with no scoreboard to match. PAK DESTINY
