The Bhoy who lived

Once again, Bangladeshi cricket lovers fell for the trap of supporting the Tigers -- creatures whose body stripes were, some say, stitched by He Who Shall Not Be Named.

They entered the Asia Cup with hearts full of hope and wands at the ready, only to watch their team turn the Dubai field into a scene more tragic than a failed potion in Professor Snape's classroom.

The Three Stooges of the batting order – Rid Oui, No Show Hun, and Jacques Err -- took to the crease like first-years wandering into the Forbidden Forest without a Marauder's Map.

Rid Oui set the tone immediately, as only he alone can. While his batting partner Safe San kept a cool mind, calculating each shot like a well-placed spell, Rid Oui seemed destined to prove his doubters right.

In doing so, Rid Oui not only let down his team but also his alma mater, Oxford Varsity, and one could almost picture him drafting a long, dramatic Facebook post afterward from the dressing room.

Then came No Show Hun, whose entrance suggested he believed the match was a Triwizard Tournament final, not a cakewalk-of-a-chase. With every stroke, he channelled confusion at will, attempting to send the ball into corners even Hogwarts ghosts would hesitate to haunt.

No Show Hun's fervent supporters -- those local cricket "pundits" who hail him as the next best thing since frozen Paratha -- were treated to living proof that hype is no substitute for common sense, and Kolija without brain is a self-destructive combo.

Finally, Jacques Err, operating as the acting captain but without a user manual, batted at number thirteen. Despite hours of training with the hammer in hand, luck had abandoned him -- no sixes, no impact, just a look of "I meant well" that could wilt even Professor Dumbledore's beard.

Before the tournament, this trauma-triggering trio could have been spotted at humble tong, where the tongtender asks, "What's your order?" And in unison, they'd respond with something utterly illogical: "One big mug of Asia, with zero tea liquor."

Meanwhile, Pakistan, who seemed determined to avoid a third defeat to India in as many weeks, watched bemusedly as Bangladesh snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. Even the missed catches, the flurries of panic, and the bizarre shot selection all pointed to one truth: the Tigers wanted to lose more than Pakistan wanted to win.

And so, the losing bandwagon experienced the familiar sting as fear -- or, more ominously speaking, Bhoy -- hit the trending top chart. Memories of the last T20 World Cup, choosing not to go for the conditional win against Afghanistan, and countless mistimed full-tosses and near-misses all returned. 

At the end of the night, Bangladesh fans walked away, wands lowered, mumbling the spell that has kept them grounded for years: "Expect nothing, fear everything."