At best, a degree in business management can help navigate the ship of one’s life reasonably well, but steering it in the turbulent waters of Pakistan cricket is a different kettle of fish. Few would know it better than Misbah-ul-Haq Khan Niazi.

We all saw what happened in Sharjah last week. Another Niazi in the twilight of his career -- no prizes for guessing the first one -- defying the odds, including the lengthening shadows of the afternoon of his life, only to restore faith in Pakistan cricket.

Since victory has a thousand fathers it would be convenient for many to overlook, in the wake of ‘Sharjah reborn’, how this very man has been lampooned from Karachi to Khyber for his method -- few, if ever, considering the madness involved. To my memory, no cricketer has been vilified more in recent history than Misbah.

And what has been the man’s response to digs taken by the who’s who of Pakistan cricket to the average fan? A near Buddha-like poise; never giving in to the standard Pakistani instinct to hit back, always focusing on the job at hand, and resolutely going back to the vigil mode as the last man standing.

Any other cricketing nation with a slightly more reasoned approach and mindful of the circumstances in which Misbah has led all along would stand up and applaud the man for being such a faithful servant to his country. But not Pakistan.

We are, of course, more attuned to the slam-bang variety whatever the form and demand of the game; we love the whiff of daredevilry -- the edge-of-the-seat thriller, which usually ends up with the seat edged -- like a thick nick to the keeper (hopefully, not Kamran Akmal)!

But that doesn’t seem to deter us. Give us players with some "attitude": someone who can purport to use Head and Shoulders -- actually little head, and more shoulders, especially, when just common sense would do. It makes one feel sorry for the shampoo giant because, at the end of the day, everyone wants to clear the dandruff, and well, shine!

With Misbah, you are not guaranteed fireworks even though assuredly, head will be used much more than shoulders -- talking of which, few even use the shoulders as methodically as the man from Mianwali across any format.

But you will find Misbah digging his heels in and trying to eke out a good day at the office -- all things in place, and a modicum of stability that allows you to breathe a little easier. And Heaven knows, Pakistan could do with some order!

But since he took over the mantle from the disgraced Salman Butt in 2010 in Tests and the ODI stewardship after Shahid Afridi threw another one of his fits in 2012, Pakistan cricket has seen calm and stability despite the antics of the usual suspects that come to represent the ‘system’. Make no mistake, it is a no mean feat.

If it is easy to forget the events of 2010 -- mercifully, a distant memory now -- some credit, even if grudgingly, must be given to Misbah for manfully, taking on the responsibility of delivering a redemption on Pakistan cricket’s behalf after entering what seemed like the Mad Hatter’s party in Alice in Wonderland.

Three-and-a-half years down the road, there is less drama, fewer spoilers trying to perpetually rock the boat and an element of normalcy -- that biggest missing link about Pakistan as a state itself. We all know who has carved that niche -- by sweating it out in a crisis, walking right into Hunger Games of the kind Jennifer Lawrence would be loathe to: three down for about 20, day in, day out, but never complaining, never passing on the blame for any shortcoming in the team.

It couldn’t have been easier, of course -- the pressure for a man on the wrong side of the 30s, of being just one series away from potentially being dropped, and at least two contenders, Mohammed Hafeez and Shahid Afridi, rearing to serve the "national interest" when such an opportunity presented itself.

But in their grudging acceptance of the fittest near-40 in the game, notwithstanding their own questionable form, you now see "respect" that the millions of Pakistani fans are also beginning to concede.

Let’s hope it has not sprung from one of the great afternoon chases in Test history last week only. Someone also needs to factor in the toil, sweat, and perhaps, some lonely tears shed in a silent corner trying to fight inner demons to just hang in there. And fight another day.

Rameez Raja is not the first convert -- only a few months ago, he was openly calling for Misbah’s head, to which Mohammed Yousuf added his less-than-Einstein’ic theory of "negative influence" to pull the skipper down. All this, without giving an iota of a would-be successor, who could hold the fort with a degree of certainty.

Unnoticed as always, despite being the team’s mainstay during his reign, Misbah has now become the joint second most successful Pakistani Test captain along with Wasim Akram with 12 wins (the first joint two are Imran Khan and Javed Miandad with 14 apiece).

But unlike the other three legends, Misbah has had neither the luxury of counting on batting stalwarts to drop anchor or throw the kitchen sink nor a battery of match-winning bowlers -- save for Younis Khan, and Saeed Ajmal, whom, he introduced.

Despite this massive disadvantage, Misbah rode on, typically soaking the pressure like any captain worth his salt would and did so with a bat whose consistency is such that it is in the event of a failure that it gets noticed. And when that happens, Pakistan is just gasping for breath.

The trouble with public memory is that it is fickle. The glow of Sharjah, therefore, may serve as a gloss, whereas it is a reward for the self-belief of a man whose legacy is yet to be understood. The legacy of being patient in a crisis, of being judicious with limited resources, of never losing hope.