Life often
takes us on journeys that challenge our spirit and test the depths of our
resilience. For me, one of those journeys began on **February 6, 2016**, when I
lost my father—a man who fought a courageous battle against tongue cancer for
five long years. Despite our efforts, the disease unleashed its fury, and in
the stillness of that fateful night, my father’s battle ended with a sudden and
devastating blow.
As a
doctor, the sense of helplessness I felt was profound. Despite my medical
training, I could do nothing to alter the inevitable. His passing left an
emptiness in our lives, a chasm that words could not fill. My family was
shattered, but as the only son, I bore the weight of responsibilities. My
father’s burial, consoling my grieving mother and sister, and steadying my wife—all
fell upon my shoulders.
Amidst this
turmoil, I had to face another challenge: my MD examinations in Internal
Medicine at Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujib Medical University, scheduled just two
days after my father’s passing. The thought of focusing on something so mundane
as exams felt almost cruel, but I chose to face them—not because it was easy, but
because life demanded it.
As I walked
this path of grief and duty, I found strength in unexpected places. Among them
was your story, Baz.
The Journey of an Unlikely Leader
Your
ascension to the captaincy of the New Zealand cricket team was met with
scepticism and controversy. The critics favoured Ross Taylor and your early
days at the helm were anything but smooth. Who could forget the disastrous
series against South Africa, where Dale Steyn, Morne Morkel, and Vernon
Philander tore through the Kiwi batting order? It was a baptism by fire that
left New Zealand cricket—and your leadership—under the microscope.
But where
many would have crumbled, you stood firm. Instead of succumbing to the
criticism, you transformed it into a catalyst for change. By 2014, under your
leadership, New Zealand cricket had evolved into a force to be reckoned with.
Your men played a fearless brand of cricket—aggressive, dynamic, and yet,
always respectful of the game’s spirit.
You
embraced accountability, shunning the blame game that often dominates modern
sports. Even in the face of umpiring errors, you refused to fan controversies,
choosing instead to focus on your team’s own shortcomings. This rare humility
became your hallmark.
A Legacy Beyond Stats
Your
leadership transcended tactics and strategies. It was a philosophy—one that
valued sportsmanship over gamesmanship. The way you honoured Phillip Hughes by
instructing your bowlers to avoid bouncers and curbing wicket celebrations
during a match spoke volumes about your character. These gestures didn’t just
honour a fallen colleague; they reminded the world of cricket’s true
essence.
Your
approach revived interest in Test cricket, a format many had deemed obsolete in
the age of T20 leagues. By playing an attacking style, you made five-day
cricket thrilling once again, drawing young fans to the stadiums and television
screens. You proved that aggression on the field could coexist with grace and
dignity.
In
limited-overs cricket, your strategies redefined what it meant to play
fearlessly. Setting attacking fields even against the opposition’s best batters
showed a belief in your team’s abilities that inspired confidence and
admiration.
The Inspiration You Provided
Baz, your
story mirrored my own struggles in many ways. Just as you turned the tide for
New Zealand cricket, I had to muster the courage to face my own challenges.
Your journey from an entertainer to one of the game’s most respected captains
was a testament to resilience and self-belief. It taught me that failure is not
the end but a stepping stone to greatness.
Your
decision to retire at the height of your powers exemplified another rare
quality: knowing when to bow out. By stepping away before the weight of
personal milestones clouded your judgment, you left cricket not just as a great
player but as an enduring inspiration.
A Thank
You from Bangladesh
As you step
away from the international stage, know that your impact goes far beyond the
boundaries of cricket fields. You have inspired countless individuals like
me—doctors, students, and cricket fans alike—to persevere in the face of
adversity.
Thank you,
Baz, for showing the world that true leadership lies not in accolades or
records but in character, courage, and compassion.
With heartfelt gratitude,
A son, a doctor, and a cricket fan from
Bangladesh
Thank You