Mohammed Shami finishes his Test career with 229 wickets from 64 matches. Few Indian fast bowlers of his generation combined skill, stamina and an appetite for hard work quite like him. He could make the new ball talk, extract reverse swing with the old one and, when required, keep coming back for another spell.
The 36-year-old was among India’s most dependable fast bowlers across conditions. His contribution to the red-ball side, which established itself as a formidable force overseas, was immense.
His retirement, though, was not entirely unexpected.
Back in August, Sportstar had reported the possibility, with the national selectors having moved on and drawn up a 15-member pool of young fast bowlers. Jasprit Bumrah, Prasidh Krishna and Mohammed Siraj were already part of the picture. Shami, despite everything he had given Indian cricket, was no longer in the plans.
I have known Shami long before he became what he is today. He was then a young fast bowler finding his feet in Kolkata, never one to shy away from putting in the hard yards, while I was beginning my own journey in journalism.
Our association continued over the years, and the warmth never changed.
For the last few years, most of our mornings would begin with a few exchanges. We rarely spoke about the future or even cricket. More often, we exchanged pleasantries and drifted back to our younger days in Kolkata. There were mornings when we would walk around the maidans, talking about life and how our respective journeys had unfolded.
On a few occasions, I would take a detour, drop him at his mess in one of the bylanes of Howrah and then head to office.
Our careers took different turns, but the ‘ dosti’ and ‘ bhai-chara’ stayed.
On the field, Shami had an uncomplicated approach to fast bowling.
His run-up was smooth, his wrist position strong and his seam presentation almost immaculate. He could move the ball both ways and was particularly dangerous when he got it to reverse. He backed his skills, hit his lengths and kept asking questions of batters.
Whether in England, Australia or at home, he was rarely short of answers. He was equally comfortable leading an attack or playing second fiddle. His spells often came without much fuss, but their impact was difficult to miss.
His contribution to India’s rise as a formidable Test side deserves to be remembered alongside the finest achievements of this generation.
Away from the field, there were moments that told you just as much about the man.
A couple of years ago, during the Sportstar Aces Awards, Shami agreed to travel to Mumbai to receive the Player of the Year award despite being in the middle of a demanding rehabilitation schedule at the NCA in Bengaluru. He had promised an old friend, and that was enough.
He was supposed to stay for 20 minutes. He ended up staying for nearly three hours because his idol, Sunil Gavaskar, was also on stage.
“ Sir hain aur main nikal jaaun, aise thodi na ho sakta hai (Sir is there, how could I leave),” he told me later.
That evening, he also exchanged numbers with para-archer Sheetal Devi and promised to help her whenever she needed it. It was a small gesture, made without any fuss.
He deserved a proper farewell in whites.
But his legacy will not be defined by the manner in which his Test career ended. Like millions of his followers, I will remember the spells, certainly. But I will also remember the mornings, the walks around the Kolkata maidans, those detours to his mess and the warmth of someone who never allowed success to come in the way of an old friendship.
That was Shami.
A champion with the ball, and a bhai — as we would call each other — who never forgot where he came from.
Published on Nov 07, 2026
