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For Manchester, read Madras. You could almost smell the whiff of cordite and of curry in the air at Old Trafford yesterday and though the match never boiled in the way that the recent Test series between these two proud nations so definitively did, it simmered away nicely enough for a passionate audience to enjoy rather than abuse their rivalry.

Perhaps the game needed a touch of the do-or-die to it, or perhaps someone up above decreed that the tensions back home would suffice for the day. Certainly, Wasim Akram took a punt with his suggestion after losing the toss that, if nothing else, it would be useful practice for the challenges ahead for his team to bat second and chase runs. Granted, Pakistan ought to beat Zimbabwe and slip into the semi-finals. But ``ought'' doesn't always apply itself to cricket and, anyway, winning is a handy habit which has deserted Pakistan since Bangladesh dusted them up 10 days ago.

Wasim, of course, has been all over the English papers of late, a grumble here and a garotting there - heaven knows whose throat he will have grabbed first in the dressing-room on Saturday evening after Pakistan blew it against the South Africans. Pre-Banglandesh he was serene, so much so that he took his team to Alton Towers for a frolic; post-India he'll have to get severe. The rhythm has gone from their cricket and they are suddenly riddled with injuries. Watching opponents will sense these fallibilities and stop their quaking. Only Wasim, a natural leader and a splendid man, can reorganise an essentially disparate bunch who need their confidence back. He'll have to be quick.

That it is the Wasim update. What a difference a day makes for the captain of India. Mohammed Azharuddin has been all over the Indian papers since the team lost at Hove on the second day of the tournament. Daily they want his head. He is that sort, a gentle and rather vulnerable man who has travelled some traumatic roads.

Truthfully, the people of India want the prodigy Sachin Tendulkar to be their captain, but equally they want him to turn from boy to man without undue hassle. Azharuddin is doing a holding job, and probably knows it. He should go of his own volition before he is pushed.

After yesterday he will be on the front pages again because for the second time under his leadership, and for the third time in three, India beat Pakistan in a World Cup match. It is not quite so good as winning the tournament, but it will do. He held two immensely important catches at slip, moved his bowling attack around to prodigious effect and made some runs that mattered.

The 321 one-day internationals he had played before yesterday, the 9,000 runs, the seven hundreds, the 56 fifties, the average of 37.5 were a millennium away while he struggled painfully to get off the mark. Ten balls passed before a trademark flip to square leg brought him a single, and it must have felt like a hundred. After 42 balls, a lifetime for one so variously gifted, he had scored just 18.

Then he gambled, ran at one of Saqlain Mushtaq's off-breaks and slogged high towards the rope at midwicket. Shahid Afridi ran, dived, and missed, not just a catch but the ball altogether, which then trickled over the boundary. From 150 yards away, you could sense the release.

Soon, with a flourish, he hit one of those quick-footed straight sixes that seem to catch all spinners who bowl to him unaware. Then he drilled a half-volley through cover for four. When he was fifth out, the score was 218 and his bowlers had something to work with. It was not Azharuddin's best innings, but given the moment, given the past month which has meant so much to India, it was one he will privately cherish.