Contrary to appearances, and in a different way to Premier League footballers, sports fans are not necessarily known for their monogamy. No matter how one-eyed, flag-waving and anthem-belting their allegiance to the motherland may be, even the most passionate will usually confess to carrying a bit of a torch for someone else too. Everyone has a soft spot. Everyone has a second team.

For many it will be the West Indies, a bond formed in childhood on the backs of Sir Viv, Clive and Whispering Death, fond memories of which make their present predicament all the more painful. Perhaps it is Sri Lanka, catapulted out of the blue from newbie whipping boys into world champions in 1996 on the back of a new and totally revolutionary style of play ten years ahead of its time. It could be New Zealand, Bangladesh, Ireland; even – whisper it – Australia. Any number of teams for any number of reasons.

But for this dyed-in-the-wool Englishman there is only one other team that can ever fit the bill. I love watching Pakistan.

I have no connection with the country. I have never been there, I have no family ties and the only words in Urdu I know I have picked up from wicketkeepers encouraging their bowlers to aim at my toes. But I have followed Pakistan from the time I first saw the great Abdul Qadir bound to the crease. I loved watching Imran, I adored Wasim and Waqar, today it is Misbah. And Inzamam – who, apart from his batting partners, couldn’t love him?

And, if I needed any further confirmation, Pakistan’s Asia Cup campaign so far has reinforced why watching them has and always will be the most exhilarating, infuriating, hilarious bat and ball entertainment that could possibly be wished for.

How can one team so effortlessly encapsulate both the inept and the inspired so frequently, even on the same day? The batting performance against India summed up Pakistan at their most blundering. From the moment Mohammad Hafeez was surprised by the bounce of Ashish Nehra in the first over there was an inevitability as to how the remainder of the innings was going to pan out. From comedy run-outs, with a batless Khurram Manzoor barely appearing in the TV frame after Shoaib Malik called him for a crazily non-existent single, to Malik himself deciding that at 35 for 3 going for that swish outside off-stump was a good call, Pakistan went through their full slapstick repertoire. It was as spectacular as it was chaotic.

Against UAE Pakistan looked like dropping a clanger again. Having been set 130 they quickly found themselves reduced to 17 for 3 before Shoaib Malik and Umar Akmal finally showed that in a chase of 130 the top order need not bat like they had a train to catch, their unbeaten 114-run partnership calming nerves in what turned out to be a comfortable seven wicket win.

But with the ridiculous came the sublime, and in the form of one of cricket’s most controversial figures of recent years. Muhammad Amir’s performance against India was as fine a spell of fast bowling as I can remember in a limited overs international. Swinging the ball viciously at 140 kph – in only his fourth T20 international in the best part of six years – he was simply sensational. Having been denied a wicket with the first ball of the innings Amir promptly took out Rohit Sharma with the second and Ajinkya Rahane with the fourth, both trapped LBW to balls slanting across and shaping back in, giving neither batsman the sniff of a chance. It was extraordinary. In his second over he was at it again, Suresh Raina popping a leading edge to mid-on and suddenly India were 8 for 3. But for the cool head of Virat Kohli the most unlikely of rear-guard victories was even on the cards for a while.

Amir’s spell counted for so much more than restored Pakistani pride against their oldest foe, however. That Amir is back, and better than ever, is fantastic news both for Pakistan and for world cricket. In fact, as Peter Miller has commented, his enforced five year absence may even have helped him. He is five years stronger and five years wiser, and not having to spend that time flogging away on the unresponsive surfaces of Pakistan’s adopted home in UAE may well have spared him from the stress fractures that have been a blight on the careers of so many of his contemporaries.

That Amir seems to have found his best ever form is a particularly mouth-watering prospect with another meeting with India at the World T20 coming up and the summer tour of England on the near horizon. And not just Amir, of course – add to the mix his fellow left-armers Mohammad Irfan and Wahab Riaz, together with Mohammad Sami and Yasir Shah and Pakistan may well, as interim bowling coach Azhar Mahmood has said, have the best bowling attack in international cricket.

Ah, the fans will say, if only they could back it up with the bat. But therein lies the fun.

Where would we be without those ups and downs and highs and lows that come with following your team in all its imperfections? Following Pakistan certainly gives more thrills and spills than most. Whatever happens next, it certainly won’t be dull. And I’ll be watching.