Mushfiqur Rahim at 100 Tests: The Relentless Craftsman Who Willed Bangladesh into Belonging

The childish celebration that spans for more than two decades - The cherubic smile that softened even the most exhausting days – The celebration with a roar and clenched fist. The long, meditative hours of batting practice under a punishing sun. These are the images that surface whenever the name Mushfiqur Rahim is uttered in Bangladesh cricket. They are not merely memories; they are fragments of a national journey—an epic told through the life of a cricketer who refused to surrender to history, circumstance, or mediocrity.

Now, as Mushfiqur becomes the first Bangladeshi to step into the rarefied company of 100 Test cricketers, his milestone demands more than celebration. It demands a reckoning with what he has symbolised: resilience in a cricket culture built on the uneasy coexistence of soaring dreams and cruel limitations.

Bangladesh has played 155 Tests in its 25-year history. Mushfiqur has featured in nearly two-thirds of them. That is not longevity; that is institutional memory.

A Career Forged in Adversity

When Mushfiqur Rahim first walked onto Lord’s in 2005, he looked startlingly young—almost child-like—set against the theatre of cricket’s most storied stage. His tiny frame and cautious smile contrasted violently with the four-pronged English pace attack poised to dismantle an inexperienced Bangladesh side. Yet he resisted. It was not a match-saving act, not even a noteworthy statistical contribution, but it contained something Bangladesh cricket desperately needed in those days: defiance.

Defiance from a team mocked for simply being present.

Defiance from a boy who could easily have been swallowed by the cynicism that enveloped Bangladesh cricket in those formative years.

Through the next two decades, that thread of resistance evolved into a science—a disciplined, almost monastic approach to preparation that became Mushfiqur’s signature. He was neither the most flamboyant nor the most naturally gifted, but he became the most dependable. And in a nation where sporting fragility has often been cultural, Mushfiqur’s discipline was radical.

The Last of a Generation

The modern pillars of Bangladesh cricket—Shakib Al Hasan, Mashrafe Mortaza, Tamim Iqbal, Mahmudullah—have all now faded from the arena. Yet Mushfiqur remains, not because he had fewer reasons to retire but because he had more reasons to keep going. When he quit T20Is and ODIs, whispers grew louder that he was nearing the end. Mushfiqur instead treated the speculation as an indictment of his work ethic.

He responded the only way he knows: with runs, with fitness, with sweat, with monastic routine.

At 38, he is still in the “why retire?” phase of his journey—an astonishing mindset in a cricket culture that has historically lacked long-term athletic conditioning, infrastructure, or continuity.

The Arc of a Craftsman

Mushfiqur’s career has not been smooth—it has been sculpted. He entered Test cricket with technical flaws, fought through years of inconsistency, and rebuilt himself. Coaches like Dav Whatmore and Jamie Siddons tinkered with his backlift, his pull shot, and his game against pace. Tamim recalls that the raw talent was never the story; the story was the work ethic. Mushfiqur made himself.

He did so under difficult conditions: a brittle batting order, a domestic structure still learning how to behave like a Test system, and a national expectation perpetually oscillating between premature hope and volatile disappointment.

His double-hundred in Galle in 2013—Bangladesh’s first—was not just a statistical milestone; it felt like an emancipation. Mominul Haque, who debuted in that match, remembers it as a watershed, an innings that allowed younger batters to believe that Bangladesh could dream beyond survival.

That was the year Mushfiqur turned the corner. His average leapt past 50, his discipline matured, and his role crystallised: he became Bangladesh’s immovable spine.

Captain, Keeper, Workhorse

Few cricketers anywhere have carried a national team the way Mushfiqur has.

He captained 34 Tests.

He kept wicket in 55.

He combined both roles in 28 matches—second only to MS Dhoni in Test history.

And he still averaged over 41 as captain.

When he finally relinquished the gloves in 2019, his batting blossomed further. The numbers reveal the story of a cricketer who aged like a craftsman, not an athlete: smarter, calmer, technically tighter, more self-assured.

Since 2013, Mushfiqur has averaged over 42 in 69 Tests—the only Bangladeshi batter with a 40+ average over that period.

The Traveller in a Land of Two-Test Series

There is a peculiar tragedy in Mushfiqur’s career. Had he been Australian, English, or Indian, he might have played 150 or even 180 Tests. Instead, Bangladesh’s limited fixture list forced his career into a series of compressed, under-resourced, two-match tours. Yet, within those constraints, he carved out achievements that rival global greats:

Three Test double-centuries — the most by any wicketkeeper-batter in history.

Hundreds in six countries.

Bangladesh’s highest away average among top-order batters.

Involved in five of the team’s six partnerships exceeding 250 runs.

A balls-per-dismissal ratio of 78.6 — the toughest Bangladeshi batter to dislodge.

He was not merely a participant in Bangladesh’s story; he was the axis around which its Test evolution rotated.

The Human Behind the Legend

The milestone Test brought emotional truths to the surface. In the team huddle before his 100th match, he told his teammates something revealing and profoundly un-Bangladeshi in its humility:

“Mushfiqur Rahim exists because of Bangladesh. I am just a drop in the ocean.”

He dedicated his century in that match—he became only the eleventh cricketer in history to score a hundred in his 100th Test—to his grandparents, who once confessed they wished to live long enough to watch him bat.

These gestures strip away the statistical armour and expose the emotional engine that has powered this journey: gratitude, duty, and a sense of national responsibility that is rare in modern cricket.

A Legacy Beyond the Scorebook

Mushfiqur Rahim is more than the sum of his runs or the longevity of his career. He is the embodiment of Bangladesh’s slow, painful, stubborn rise into Test relevance. He represents an entire generation that learned to endure humiliation, absorb defeat, and still imagine a better cricketing tomorrow.

He is proof that greatness in Bangladesh cricket is not something inherited; it is something engineered.

As he looks ahead to yet another Test series—Pakistan at home next April—he leaves the future deliberately ambiguous. Perhaps he doesn’t need to plan too far. Legends rarely do. Their careers do not end; they taper into memory, into habit, into cultural inheritance.

In a cricket world structured against the small and unfashionable, Mushfiqur Rahim stood only five feet tall but stood tall enough for all of Bangladesh.

And perhaps that is the true meaning of his 100th Test: not a milestone, but a metaphor for a nation that learned—through him—how to stay, resist, and finally belong.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar

Ireland’s Historic Test: Pakistan Survive the Malahide Scare

Under the brooding grey skies of Malahide, Pakistan emerged to chase 160 runs on the final day of Ireland’s inaugural Test match. It was a target that, on paper, seemed modest, but for Pakistan—a team notorious for faltering in fourth-innings chases—the spectre of past collapses loomed large. The ghosts of Galle, Sydney, and Abu Dhabi haunted the minds of fans, and early on, it seemed Malahide might join that list. 

Tim Murtagh and Boyd Rankin, with their probing lines and relentless discipline, dismantled Pakistan’s top order in the opening overs. At 14 for 3, the visitors were teetering on the brink of calamity. Irish fans, their flags fluttering proudly, roared in anticipation of a monumental upset. Victory would have made Ireland only the second team to win their debut Test and the fourth to triumph after following on. 

But Pakistan’s young guns, Imam-ul-Haq and Babar Azam, had other plans. With remarkable composure, they steadied the ship, playing late and under their eyes to counter the moving ball. Their partnership, built on grit and patience, turned the tide. Though two more wickets fell before the chase was completed, the pair had done enough to ensure Pakistan escaped a historic Irish ambush. 

A Batting Line-Up in Flux

While Pakistan’s bowlers once again delivered, their batting remains a persistent Achilles’ heel. The absence of stalwarts like Younis Khan and Misbah-ul-Haq continues to haunt the middle order. Azhar Ali and Asad Shafiq, the designated torchbearers of this batting line-up, have yet to fill the void consistently. 

Azhar Ali, undoubtedly one of Pakistan’s most dependable batsmen in recent years, struggles on seaming tracks. His tendency to play with a heavy front foot and his vulnerability to deliveries angling into the middle and leg stump often render him ineffective in conditions favouring swing and seam. His struggles in England and New Zealand are a testament to this flaw, and unless he adapts by playing the ball later and with softer hands, his contributions will remain sporadic. 

Asad Shafiq, meanwhile, is an enigma. Technically sound and capable of producing breathtaking innings, his career has been marred by inconsistency. While he has played some of Pakistan’s finest Test knocks, his inability to build on starts and his penchant for losing concentration at crucial junctures have been frustrating. His form oscillates between brilliance and mediocrity, disrupting the team’s rhythm. 

Sarfraz’s Role and the Young Brigade

Captain Sarfraz Ahmed’s role at number six is pivotal. Known for his resilience under pressure, Sarfraz has the temperament and technique to stabilize innings when chaos reigns. However, as both captain and wicketkeeper, he shoulders immense responsibility. For Pakistan to thrive in England, Sarfraz must lead by example, curbing rash strokes and anchoring the lower middle order. 

The team’s younger players, though talented, lack the experience and technical finesse to thrive in challenging conditions. Fakhar Zaman’s explosive starts, while valuable, must be tempered with an understanding of the Test match tempo. Usman Salahuddin’s measured half-century against Leicestershire in a warm-up game was a promising sign, but the real test lies in withstanding the relentless examination of Anderson, Broad, and company. 

Lessons from 2016 and the Road Ahead

Pakistan’s 2016 tour of England offers a blueprint for success. Then, the experience of Younis and Misbah, coupled with Yasir Shah’s spin, propelled them to memorable performances. Today, the absence of such seasoned campaigners makes the task exponentially harder. To succeed, Pakistan’s batsmen must embrace the fundamentals: trust their defence, play the ball late, and occupy the crease. The allure of adventurous strokes must be resisted, for survival in England demands discipline above all else. 

The warm-up game against Leicestershire, while offering little in terms of quality opposition, provided crucial confidence. Fakhar and Azhar’s century opening stand and Salahuddin’s patient knock were heartening signs. Yet, the real battle begins against England—a team transformed into a juggernaut in home conditions, with pacers who exploit every nuance of the Duke ball. 

The Verdict

Malahide was a wake-up call. It exposed Pakistan’s vulnerabilities but also showcased their ability to claw back from the brink. To succeed in England, they must channel that same resilience, leaning on their bowlers while demanding more from their batsmen. The ghosts of collapses past still linger, but with the right application, this Pakistan side has the potential to rewrite its narrative. 

In cricket, as in life, it is often not the most talented who prevail but the most adaptable. For Pakistan, the challenge is clear: adapt, endure, and thrive in the face of adversity. Only then can they hope to turn the promise of Malahide into a sustained resurgence on the world stage.

Thank You\

Faisal Caesar  

When Giants Fall: The Irish Miracle That Stunned England

There’s always been scepticism around the participation of Associate nations in the World Cup. Many of us, driven by logic and precedent, doubted their abilities. Indeed, the lacklustre showings from teams like Canada, Kenya, and even Zimbabwe seemed to validate the doubts. Even the Netherlands, despite briefly challenging England, faded away soon after. These teams, it appeared, lacked the consistency to justify their inclusion. 

And then, on a fateful night, cricket reminded us of its enduring charm: it thrives on the unpredictable, revelling in improbable stories. Last night, England wasn’t just surprised—they were left stunned, undone by a spirited Irish revolt led by one of the most unexpected heroes.

An Improbable Chase 

To chase down 327 in 50 overs is no easy task. Ireland, an Associate team often dismissed as fringe contenders, found themselves staring into the abyss at 111 for 5. The match seemed destined for yet another routine defeat. England, assured and composed, held the upper hand. The Irish lacked a Tendulkar or an Afridi—those capable of conjuring miracles out of thin air. With half the overs gone, many spectators likely tuned out, assuming the outcome was a foregone conclusion. 

But cricket has a flair for the dramatic. 

Kevin O'Brien: The Man with a Sword for a Bat 

Enter Kevin O’Brien. When Ed Joyce, a key figure, departed and Gary Wilson followed soon after, O’Brien took it upon himself to rewrite the script. From the moment he pierced the off-side with a crunching drive off Graeme Swann, there was electricity to his intent. In the space of two brutal overs, O’Brien launched two towering sixes over midwicket, giving Ireland a flicker of hope. That flicker soon turned into a blaze. 

O’Brien’s onslaught was perfectly timed, coinciding with the batting Powerplay. In those five overs, England’s control evaporated as 62 runs were plundered, throwing the game wide open. From then on, it wasn’t just a contest - it was a masterclass in fearless batting. O’Brien, with bat in hand, transformed into a modern-day Hercules, dismantling England’s bowlers with a blend of power and precision. 

An Exhibition of Controlled Aggression 

James Anderson, England’s Ashes hero, was reduced to a mere spectator in his own overs. One pull shot soared into the stands to bring up O’Brien’s half-century in just 30 balls. Tim Bresnan, who had earned respect as a reliable seamer, was treated with similar disdain. O’Brien’s crisp drive over extra cover for six was a stroke of audacity that will linger in memory.   

The genius of O’Brien’s innings was not just in brute power but in his ability to sustain relentless pressure. He swung freely but with a sense of purpose, managing risk and reward like a seasoned artist. With every six - another over midwicket, another thumping straight down the ground—the impossible started feeling eerily plausible. 

Even when Andrew Strauss raced back under a swirling top edge, he fumbled, perhaps overwhelmed by the sheer improbability of what was unfolding before him. 

Cusack’s Quiet Contribution 

Behind every hero is a supporting cast, and John Mooney and Alex Cusack played their roles to perfection. Cusack, in particular, provided crucial stability, rotating the strike to allow O’Brien to keep launching his assault. Cusack’s six off Paul Collingwood and another down the ground off Michael Yardy were moments that quietly cemented the Irish resurgence. 

The climax came with O’Brien’s hundred - a jaw-dropping feat achieved in just 50 balls, obliterating Matthew Hayden’s previous World Cup record of 66. It wasn’t just a record-breaking innings; it was a moment of sporting poetry, a reminder that cricket belongs as much to the underdogs as to the elites. 

The Fairytale Finish 

O’Brien eventually fell to Graeme Swann in the 48th over, but by then, the foundation of the fairytale was set. With just a handful of runs left, Mooney’s flick through midwicket in the 50th over sealed the game - and with it, a chapter in cricketing folklore. Ireland had not just beaten England; they had rewritten the World Cup narrative. 

 A Lesson for the Cricketing World 

O’Brien’s innings was more than just a flash of brilliance—it was a statement. It challenged the cricketing establishment's assumptions, proving that Associate nations, too, are capable of extraordinary feats. Performances like these must not remain isolated incidents, mere footnotes in World Cup history. The spirit, skill, and sheer audacity displayed by Ireland demands greater recognition and more opportunities for teams outside the traditional powerhouses. 

In a sport that often leans toward predictability, the Irish victory was a breath of fresh air—a reminder that no match is over until the final ball is bowled, and that on any given day, anyone can rise to greatness. Kevin O’Brien’s innings was not just a triumph of batting—it was a celebration of cricket’s magic. 

In the end, it wasn’t just Ireland that won - it was the spirit of the game itself.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Resurgence in Crisis: Brilliant Captaincy by Shakib Al Hasan

In a high-stakes encounter, Ireland pursued a modest target of 206 on a track devoid of any demons for the bowlers. The conditions were favourable for batsmen, and Ireland looked poised to drive a dagger into Bangladesh’s hopes of progressing in the tournament. With the home crowd growing anxious, humiliation lurked ominously for the Tigers. Ireland, buoyed by momentum, threatened to slam the quarter-final door shut. 

This was a moment of reckoning - a crucible of pressure for Bangladesh's captain, Shakib Al Hasan. The burden of leadership lay heavily on his shoulders. How he would respond to this crisis would not just define the game but also his mettle as a leader. And Shakib, unfazed by the weight of expectation, rose magnificently to the challenge.  

 Composure Under Fire: The Art of Relentless Attacking

The hallmark of great leadership lies not merely in tactical sharpness but in the ability to inspire when the chips are down. Even as the spectre of Virender Sehwag’s recent mauling haunted his bowlers, Shakib refused to retreat into defensive strategies. His shoulders never sagged, his aggression never wavered. Every bowling change and every field placement radiated intent. He understood the psychological pulse of the game - there could be no half-measures, only audacity.

In the 10th over, with the Irish batsmen looking comfortable, Shakib made a bold tactical switch: he introduced Mohammad Ashraful and Naeem Islam. It was a decision that could have easily backfired. Ashraful’s confidence was brittle, his form erratic, but Shakib saw beyond the numbers. He believed in his bowler’s ability to surprise the opposition and pivot the game. Shrewdly, Ashraful was asked to bowl off-spin rather than his usual leg-spin, aligning his approach with the track’s behaviour, which favoured finger spinners. 

Ashraful vindicated his captain’s trust by snapping up two crucial wickets, dismantling Ireland’s momentum. Shakib’s brilliance lay not just in the timing of his decision but in the trust he placed in Ashraful - keeping him on for a lengthy nine-over spell. In doing so, he willingly sacrificed his own bowling quota, a gesture that exemplified selflessness and strategic acumen. Fortune, as they say, favours the brave. 

The Redemption of Shafiul: Tactical Brilliance in Phases 

Another masterstroke of Shakib’s captaincy was his nuanced management of **Shafiul Islam**. In his first spell, Shafiul was wayward and expensive, feeding Ireland’s momentum. A lesser captain might have shelved him for the remainder of the innings, but not Shakib. He knew that the rhythm of a bowler is a malleable thing—what fails in one moment can succeed if applied differently in another. 

Shakib reintroduced Shafiul in short bursts, always following the fall of a wicket, ensuring he bowled with a renewed sense of purpose. Importantly, he instructed him to bowl fuller, forcing the batsmen to drive on a surface that was beginning to play slower than anticipated. This adjustment proved pivotal. Shafiul jolted the Irish lower order, breaking through their resistance and sealing the game for Bangladesh. 

Victory Beyond the Scorecard

This was more than just a win—it was a moment of collective catharsis for a team battered by recent setbacks. Beating Ireland wasn’t just about staying alive in the race for the quarter-finals; it was about reclaiming pride and reestablishing belief in themselves. The memories of Sehwag’s onslaught had cast long shadows over Bangladesh’s campaign, but this triumph brought a much-needed infusion of confidence. It showcased a team rediscovering its fighting spirit, with a captain leading from the front, unyielding in both belief and strategy. 

Shakib’s captaincy in this match will be remembered not just for the tactical decisions but for the way he orchestrated a symphony of courage, resilience, and trust. His choices reflected a deep understanding of the ebb and flow of the game, blending pragmatism with flair. This was leadership at its finest - nurturing individual brilliance, managing pressure with poise, and, above all, inspiring a team to believe that no battle is lost until the last ball is bowled. 

Bangladesh’s journey in the tournament was far from over, but this win marked a significant turning point. And at the heart of it all stood Shakib Al Hasan - undaunted, composed, and brilliant, a captain who knew that in cricket, as in life, triumph belongs to those who dare.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar