Follow UsThere is one thing guaranteed with Mohammed Siraj. He may be reckless with his bowling at times, or his passion may take over his bowling logic, but stakes demand him to rise to the occasion - Siraj “Siuuuu” like he knows nothing else.
Like he did in Lord’s 2021. Like he did in Sydney 2021. Like he did in Birmingham last month. Or as he did at The Oval today. If moments make us remember our sportspersons by, then he has done a fair bit to command a page among the pantheon of Indian cricketing heroes.
A career Test average of 31.84 and a bowling strike rate of 53.8 doesn’t tell you anything about a good Test bowler, but then if numbers told us everything, sport would have a linear exercise of wins and losses, of performances and metrics. And we wouldn’t have witnessed a Rishabh Pant walking down to add a few more extra runs with a BROKEN TOE or a Chris Woakes making a final effort to help his country with his SHOULDERS CAST IN PLASTER.
Because sport is nothing if it doesn’t liberate you, or take you notches above tribalism, and add a layer of magic that could only be experienced.
Siraj lives in moments. For him, it doesn’t matter how many bad overs he has bowled or how many times he has let his emotions get the better of him to deliver a disaster of a ball. What matters is his ability to disapparate and apparate across the spectrum of fast bowling, marked by the sheer improbability of what he sometimes pulls off.
This is an Indian team in transition. A series loss here would have cast a shadow on Gautam Gambhir’s legacy as head coach. But in the aftermath of Virat Kohli, Rohit Sharma, and Ravichandran Ashwin’s retirements from the longest format, and with Jasprit Bumrah’s workload restrictions in place, fans would have understood had the result gone the other way.
But what is sport if not about veering off predictable paths and charting a course that fans will remember? Be it Prasidh Krishna, as erratic as ever, delivering some solid yorkers in the final stretch, or Siraj refusing to miss his line even once — the final day of this 25-day extravaganza somehow cemented Shubman Gill’s footprint in Test cricket.
And at the centre of it was a certain Siraj….who went from “I am only believe in Jassi Bhai” a year ago to “I always believe in Myself”. This is a transformation that will be talked about for years to come.
He is a lion-hearted cricketer. He knows he is not the most gifted bowler in the room, but he compensates for it by knowing his worth and delivering when his team needs him the most. In the two games, Jasprit Bumrah wasn’t part of the side, Siraj averaged 19.8 with the ball and had a strike rate of 21.3. Look at these numbers in isolation, and you begin to glimpse what he has been able to deliver in recent years.
Siraj may never be the bowler whose numbers dazzle on spreadsheets. He may not finish his career with 400 wickets or a bowling average that makes statisticians pause. But in the cauldron of Test cricket — when backs are against the wall, when India needs someone to scream belief into the void — he answers with a roar, with a “Siuuuu,” with spells that are more heart than technique, more grit than grace.
He is not trying to be the next Bumrah or the next Shami. He is carving out something of his own — a space reserved for those who make their careers not out of perfection, but out of persistence. A space for those who turn raw emotion into rhythm and chaos into craft.
This isn’t just the story of a fast bowler finding his rhythm. This is the story of a man who once stood at the Gabba with tears in his eyes for a father he had just lost — and still bowled his heart out for the tricolour. This is the story of a cricketer who, even when doubted, never stopped believing — first in his teammates, and now, in himself.
In many ways, Mohammed Siraj is the face of this new India: unpolished but fearless, emotional but unbreakable, not defined by legacy but by the power to create one.
And if you listened closely at The Oval today, above the sound of leather on willow, above the chants from the stands, you would have heard it — that unmistakable cry cutting through the London air.
"Siuuuu."
Not just a celebration, but a signature.
Not just a sound, but a statement.
Siraj was here. And he delivered.