I lived just up the road from the SCG, on Cook Road, to be exact. And I’ll never forget when I was younger, I saw Michael Slater drive in his red Ferrari. I couldn’t believe my luck, I just saw a Test cricketer. And as a boy whose parents were barely scraping through and trying to provide for their kids in a little two-bedroom apartment, I thought, ‘One day I’m going to be a Test cricketer, and one day I can drive whatever I want’.
Never did I think that God would grant me such a wish.
I’m here to announce today that I’ll be retiring from all international cricket after the SCG Test match.
God, through cricket, has given me far more than I ever imagined. He’s given me memories I’ll carry forever, friendships that go well beyond the game and lessons that shaped me who I am off the field.
But no career belongs to one person, I obviously had a lot of help. To my parents, who are over there, thank you for your sacrifices that never made the highlights reel. That’s you, Mum and Dad, Tariq and Fozia.
The early mornings, the long drives, the beliefs when the results weren’t there. Mum, you knew plenty of those. When I used to come disappointed, sad, you always consoled me, and I’ll never forget that.
Dad, you always said that I would play for Australia one day, even though sometimes I didn’t believe in myself. You taught me values before ambition. You taught me to be humble, always respectful, and treat everyone as equals no matter what.
And that grounded me through everything that followed. I hope I repaid your sacrifice in leaving everything behind in Pakistan to come to Australia to give us kids a better life. Eighty-eight Test matches, Dad, is that enough? Okay (laughs).
To my brothers, Arsalan and Nauman, I want to thank you for the countless hours you spent in the nets at backyards, everything you did, even down the road here in Centennial Park where you’d give me that token five-minute bat at the end of the day. Without your time and effort, I wouldn’t be here, nor would I have my pull shot, because all you did was bump me.
But you always instilled in me that my journey would be tougher than the other kids, and if I wanted to make it, that I had to work harder than everyone else, score more runs than the rest and make sure that I don’t give them any excuse not to pick me. I’ll never forget those words, and you were 100 per cent right.
Rachel, my beloved wife, this journey has asked more of you than it has ever asked of me, particularly since you read everything that goes on in the press. The missed moments, the long stretches apart, the pressures that come with this life and taking care of the kids on your own, you carried our family so I could chase my dream, and I’ll always be grateful for that.
And don’t worry, I know how you always remind me that all my international centuries came after I met you. You truly are one of my greatest blessings in life. You changed the path of my life, and you definitely changed the path of my career. And I thank Allah every day that I got to share this journey with you. I love you so much.
To my kids, Aisha and Ayla, you gave me perspective and remind me of what really matters. Win or lose, everything I did out there, I hope one day that you’d be proud of what I achieved, but also what I was like as a human. I’ll continue to buy you chippies and give you lots of lollies when mum isn’t looking, don’t worry, because you know I’m a sucker for hugs and kisses.
To Rachel’s family, including John and Michelle, Rachel’s parents, thank you for all your support and time spent over the last 10 years. I’m truly blessed to have such a great extended family. The fact that Rachel’s brother and dad both love playing golf is just a bonus, and probably half the reason why I married you, Rachel.
But I tell you what, next year is going to be a bad year to be a Titleist Pro V1 because I’m going to be playing lots of golf – and there’s nothing you guys can say about it.
To Bill Anderson, my friend and mentor, thank you for believing in me before the numbers did, for your honesty, for your patience and your guidance and your path when things weren’t clear. You helped shape my career, but also my character.
To my teammates, coaches, support staff: it’s been a privilege sharing dressing room with you. You make the hard days manageable and the good days unforgettable. Cricket is a team game, but more than that. It’s a people game, and I’ve been incredibly lucky with the people I’ve gotten to be around.
Along the way I’ve learned that not everything in life is in our control. I train my best, but then it’s all up to Allah, and Allah is the best of planners. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now.
This game humbles you. It tests your patience, your resilience and your character, and if you’re lucky, it teaches you gratitude, even on days that doesn’t go your way. Alhamdulillah, always.
I hope I’ve inspired many children along the way, particularly those who feel that they are different, those who feel that they don’t belong, or those (who) others tell that they will never make it.
I felt all these things growing up and trying to be an Australian cricketer. But seeing is believing. And I’m here to tell you that you can do whatever you want.
You’ve just got to keep trying. Never let anyone convince you that you can’t, because if they do convince you, then you never will.
I’m a proud Muslim coloured boy from Pakistan who was told that he would never play for the Australian cricket team. Look at me now.
And you can do the same.
As I walk off for the last time I do so with gratitude and peace, or as we say, salaam, grateful for the journey, the people, the lessons.
Thank you for letting me live my dream and for sharing it with me.
