Azhar Ali always found a dignified way through utter turbulence
Will he play or won't he? Ninety-six Tests or 97? Certainly not 100, as he would have wanted. One hundred is a poetic number, much too magical for a prosaic man like him. It would almost be disingenuous for him to finish that way, even if he clearly wanted to. Azhar Ali doesn't often get to do things his way, even if he manages to navigate his way through as decorously as possible with the lot he's handed.
Moments after a tearful Azhar announced he was stepping away from international cricket after the third Test against England, Pakistan captain Babar Azam said it wasn't yet confirmed whether he'd even get to play that final game. For a side that just two matches ago opted to pick first-class veteran Zahid Mahmood over first-class novice Abrar Ahmed over some vague notions of justice, the value of having the best team combination suddenly seemed paramount.
It isn't the most regal send-off, but then again, why would Azhar expect one? Throughout his career, he has felt like a player Pakistan have seen as available to use, and, if necessary, take advantage of. For starters, he was thrust in at No. 3 on debut, challenged to make that most demanding of Test batting positions his. When he managed that - and then some - he would be sent further up the order, now tasked with solving Pakistan's perpetual opening batting woes. He did that with aplomb, his 1556 runs at the top coming at an average of 45.76; no Pakistan opener (min. 30 innings) possesses a greater average since Azhar's debut. And it wasn't even his position.
But Azhar knows all too well that in Pakistan cricket, possession isn't actually nine-tenths of the law. He has seen what was his taken away time and again, even when he never asked for it in the first place. In 2015, with Pakistan at a loose end following the 2015 World Cup, he had the ODI captaincy put upon him, despite never even making it to the World Cup squad. In less than two years, he was out, with the news leaked to the media before he even knew it was happening.
Test match captaincy in 2018 would follow a similar trend. Sarfaraz Ahmed's loss of form created the need, and with no obvious replacement, Azhar was handed as a placeholder what should perhaps have been his by right a few years earlier.
Azhar remains inscrutable at the best of times, but to a man who places Test cricket upon an unshakeable pedestal, this was the honour of a career. The gleam in his eyes that day left little room for doubt, and he spoke excitedly about the chance he now had to "leave a legacy in the sport's best format".
It would last all of nine matches, as an unfortunate marriage of a dip in runs and a downturn in results saw the PCB move on very quickly. Babar had settled into the Test side by now, and had already taken charge of the two white-ball formats. The placeholder had outlasted his utility, and the thing that mattered to Azhar most would end up as a career footnote.
What might have embittered others never quite wounded Azhar the same way. Why would it? When he was told he didn't have a technique to suggest an elite-level career, he rose to the top 10 of the ICC Test rankings by his 20th Test, hovering in and out until well after his 70th. When he was accused of being unexciting, he'd score a brisk fourth-innings hundred to chase down 302 inside 60 overs on the final day. He accumulated runs for (if this word can be used for an Azhar innings) fun, a triple-century in Dubai, doubles in Melbourne and Mirpur.
He didn't draw crowds to stadiums like Babar, or get purists purring like Asad Shafiq. There was little by way of off-field gossip to generate any kind of buzz. If you wanted to know more about Azhar, you'd do it on his terms. Out in the middle, not playing to the gallery in pursuit of an ephemeral dalliance, but being true to the relationship he had with Test match cricket. One that was built on stronger foundations, and built to last.
Time at Somerset revealed a lighter side to Azhar's personality, one that's often hard to reveal within the stifling confines of the Pakistan team environment. His popularity in that dressing room was unquestionable, and the warmth that the county cricket fans lavished upon him would put any tribute Pakistan paid him to shame. It became apparent his impact, across countries and cultures, was positive; Somerset batter Tom Abell called him the biggest influence on his own career, especially for his leadership qualities and his values. All this was Azhar just enjoying himself. And playing a bit of football (badly).
A few years ago, I walked out of the Gaddafi Stadium in torrential rain; the PSL match scheduled on the day was called off. Water drainage in Lahore is, putting it mildly, not ideal, and the drains were quickly filling up the narrow street you have to walk across to the front gates of the complex. Exiting at the same time was Azhar, dressed to the nines in a fresh grey suit, about to leave now his studio work on the game was no longer required.
As the departing crowd latched onto the fact he was in their midst, they thronged him for pictures. Azhar was doing his best to keep the water lapping at business shoes clearly not designed for this weather at bay, but he smiled through just about every photograph. The lights went out and the drizzle intensified, and here was the Pakistan Test captain, making his own way to his car in the rain, ill-equipped in all sorts of ways and yet, finding the most dignified way through it all.
There are tears, of course, because Azhar leaves something behind he dedicated his whole life to. Tears because it reminds him of the belief his father placed in his abilities when even he didn't always believe in them. Tears, especially, because he remembers his late mother and the sacrifices she made for him. The only tribute he's able to pay her before emotions overwhelm him is simple and all-encapsulating: "I miss her."
For a cricketer who often had the charge of tedium levelled at him, there's plenty of joy too. In the memories of 7000 Test runs, which places him among the all-time greats in Pakistan cricket. In being an oasis of reliability in a middle order where an aging Misbah-ul-Haq and Younis Khan first needed support, and then replacing. In being a team man whose numbers might tell an impressive story, but an insufficiently human one. That comes from the people he played alongside, the young cricketers he inspired and mentored, the new kid in the dressing room he tried to put at ease.
The inner peace that Azhar always seemed to possess, though, suggests that he won't go down the route of many Pakistani cricketers, who have expressed their disgruntlement in public after being being put though less than Azhar was. Even as his eyes shimmered, he spoke with excitement of the next stage of his life, and of the time he would spend with his family. He refused to throw the media a scrap when they sniffed around for controversy; for whether he'd been pushed rather than gone. Often, the best revenge is a good life, and Azhar understands he's had a very good life indeed. One that, with his sense of perspective, might now go on to be an even happier one.