Cricket has always been my lullaby, my shorthand for belonging. And in Starcy I have another legend to admire

Growing up in the late 1990s, I insisted my younger nephews and nieces call me Imran Khan instead of my real name – our own playful twist on traditional respect rituals. A few years later, I upgraded to Wasim Akram (naturally) and they obligingly followed. They’re all grown now, but they still call me “Mama Khan” or “Wasin Akral”- the clumsy childhood pronunciations that stuck to me the way cricket has.

Last week, witnessing the magnificent Mitchell Starc overtake Akram as the leading left arm wicket-taker, made me pause – isn’t it about time for another upgrade?

Cricket has always been my lullaby, my shorthand for belonging. And in Starcy I have another legend to admire

Growing up in the late 1990s, I insisted my younger nephews and nieces call me Imran Khan instead of my real name – our own playful twist on traditional respect rituals. A few years later, I upgraded to Wasim Akram (naturally) and they obligingly followed. They’re all grown now, but they still call me “Mama Khan” or “Wasin Akral”- the clumsy childhood pronunciations that stuck to me the way cricket has.

Last week, witnessing the magnificent Mitchell Starc overtake Akram as the leading left arm wicket-taker, made me pause – isn’t it about time for another upgrade?

Cricket has always been my lullaby, my shorthand for belonging. And in Starcy I have another legend to admire

Growing up in the late 1990s, I insisted my younger nephews and nieces call me Imran Khan instead of my real name – our own playful twist on traditional respect rituals. A few years later, I upgraded to Wasim Akram (naturally) and they obligingly followed. They’re all grown now, but they still call me “Mama Khan” or “Wasin Akral”- the clumsy childhood pronunciations that stuck to me the way cricket has.

Last week, witnessing the magnificent Mitchell Starc overtake Akram as the leading left arm wicket-taker, made me pause – isn’t it about time for another upgrade?