There are a few things in international cricket that can warm the hearts of Pakistan fans like the sight of Shahid Afridi hoisting match-winning sixes, even if they are mis-hits.

When he performs miracles like the ones that came off his bat in Bangladesh against India and the hosts in Pakistanís back-to-back Asia Cup games, all his flaws are forgotten.

There is no doubt that Lala is a flawed hero -- a cricketer with gaping holes in his technique and a tendency to get hit by some kind of a brain freeze, every now and then. During an international career that spans over more than 17 years, Afridi has had extended runs of lean form sometimes with the bat, sometimes with the ball and sometimes with both. Then there have been bizarre episodes like the ball-biting incident in Perth four years ago that provide his critics with enough ammunition to question Afridi’s place in the national team.

But he is a sinner who, somehow, almost always becomes a saint.

Each time his critics reject him as a spent force, Afridi bounces back to silence them. Through him Pakistan have managed to hit masterstrokes at times when they were down and almost out. His match-winning exploits in the recently-concluded Asia Cup aptly underline his stature as a match-winner.

What’s the thing that in spite of the various chinks in his arsenal, Lala remains one of the most successful all-rounders in limited-overs cricket? After all, he has accumulated almost 8000 runs in One-day Internationals and is nearing the magical figure of 400 wickets in the 50-over format. He embraced the Twenty20 format as a duck takes to water and is regarded among the best all-rounders in the world of slam-bang cricket. Over the years, Afridi has produced more match-winning performances than most of his peers both in ODIs and Twenty20 Internationals.

So what is that drives Afridi?

There might be various factors but personally I think that the single most important reason that makes Lala a success story in spite of all the flaws is his single-minded quest to succeed when the chips are really down.

Afridi is blessed with something that has become a rarity among modern-day Pakistani sportsmen -- self-belief. Even when he is constantly failing to put bat to ball or his leg-spinners are lacking sting, that self-belief never really wavers. Deep inside, Afridi believes that he would regain his form and, somehow, he always does.

I haven’t seen this kind of ability to fight back against all sorts of odds in a Pakistani sportsman since the likes of Jahangir Khan and Jansher Khan.

I was a roving reporter in my salad days as a sports journalist and squash was one of my major beats. It was a time when both the Khans were at the top of the squash world. Having covered a series of events both at home and abroad, I made friends with the two JKs. I used to see their training sessions, their matches and even dined with them quite often. The duo’s ability to become champions and more importantly their ability to stay on the top for years was something that really made me take a keen interest in their exploits on the squash court.

Back in the late nineties, I asked an aging Jansher whether he still thought that he can win the British Open, then the most prestigious event in international squash. Already in his thirties and recovering from a nagging knee injury that ultimately ended his career a year later, Jansher told me: "Of course. Who is there to stop me?"

"But you are not even fully fit and there are so many players who are good enough to beat you," I pointed out. "That’s true but I know I’m going to win and I’ll win," he replied.

Jansher went on to claim what turned out to be his final British Open crown.

I’ve seen similar, unflinching belief in Afridi, time and again.

It was soon after Pakistan’s morale-shattering semi-final loss against India at World Cup 2011 in Mohali that I asked Shahid Afridi whether he still fancied his chances of being a part of a World Cup-winning squad before quitting international cricket.

A quick-witted man, Afridi is never shy of giving a straightforward answer to even the trickiest of questions and that too, without wasting much time.

But Lala seemed a bit baffled. He took a few seconds pondering over it. There was this slight, uncharacteristic hesitation before he replied: "Let’s see brother. It’s (World Cup 2015) still a long way away."

I wasn’t happy with this brief, non-committal answer. So I asked again, wording it differently. "You are still just 30. Don’t you think that you can stay fit and keep your place in the team for the next four years?"

Another few seconds, this time the look on his bearded face changed a bit. "Four years, brother. You are talking about four years. Here things can change in a few days," he said. "It will depend on so many factors. Things like my form and fitness and whether the team would need me by then," he added.

I pressed a little more, asking whether he thought that he could stay in shape to be able to make the cut for World Cup 2015. Afridi finally retorted: "I don’t think whether I’ll be able to play in the next World Cup I know it. And I also know that we will win it because that’s my greatest desire."

The passion to be a hero is what drives Afridi and the ambition to be a World-Cup winning one makes him click, at least when it really matters.

Entering the twilight years of his international career, Afridi would never be able to acquire the qualities that are needed in a reliable cricketer. With a disdain to be coached, he would never have the right technique, something that was the catalyst behind the success of Afridi’s most illustrious contemporary -- Sachin Tendulkar. He would never have the cool and calm composure of his captain Misbah-ul-Haq. He would never have many of the ingredients that make a true, world class cricketer.

But does that really matter?

Afridi is not technically correct like Tendulkar or reliable like Misbah. That’s not how he is made. He is a flawed genius, a mercurial player who can be suicidal when carrying the bat.

A big heart and plenty of self-belief to fill it is what defines him. That’s his saving grace. That’s what sets him apart from the stereotypical heroes. That’s what helps him rise after every fall. That’s what makes him Shahid Afridi.

The world of cricket might once again produce another Sachin Tendulkar but there will never be another Afridi. He is a fluke of nature.