Some victories are written in the scorebooks. Others are etched into the soul.
South Africa’s five-wicket triumph over Australia at Lord’s on Saturday, 14 June 2025, was not merely a conquest of bat and ball. It was the culmination of a journey that began on a narrow tarred street in Lansdowne — between house numbers 65 and 67 Devon Road — where cricket dreams bounced off brick walls and cleared brittle wooden boundaries, not stadium fences.
It was there, in the heartbeat of the Cape Flats, that I first shared a pitch of broken pavement and patched tar with Shukri Conrad, my childhood friend and partner in the street cricket rebellion. We played not for trophies but pride. Not for contracts but for community. And now, five decades later, I watched with tear-blurred eyes as the same bright-eyed childhood boy led South Africa to its first global cricket crown in nearly three decades — on the grandest stage of them all: Lord’s.
The Boy from Number 65
I still see the drain covers we used as wickets, you know. It taught us how to find a length. Life taught us the rest.
It taught us how to find a length. Life taught us the rest.
I’m thrilled and really ecstatic for these guys. Something we don't talk about often is the bigger picture of South Africa, but this was for South Africa and everything that goes on in our country. To be able to deliver something like this is truly special.
I think we obviously got the best of the batting conditions; 280 runs were always going to be a stiff task. But when our two senior pros, Aiden and Temba put that big stand together, that was obviously where the game was won for us.
I was the one to say Temba shouldn't keep going [because of the injury]. I was the one to say, 'No, I think Temba should stop'. But both of them, the partnership was critical. It didn't matter what the flow was. They always know better than the coaches anyway.
South Africa, resuming on 213/2, needing 69 to win — poetic, really, given 69 Devon Road was where we’d sneak balls that cleared the hedge. The symbolism wasn’t lost on Shukri.
From 67 to 69 — maybe we were destined to chase this moment all along.
The chase, though modest in numbers, was weighted with history. Australia landed blows early. Pat Cummins nipped out Bavuma. Mitchell Starc shattered Tristan Stubbs’ stumps. For a flicker, the past reared its head — a haunting montage of 1999, 2015, 2019. But this Proteas side, unlike their predecessors, did not blink.
Captain Courageous
Temba Bavuma, nursing a hamstring that screamed with every step, hobbled through his innings like a wounded warrior defending the gates.
We weren’t just chasing runs. We were chasing justice — for every team that almost got there. And we caught it.
When Conrad handed him the captaincy, whispers swirled. Too small. Too fragile. Too something. But Shukri heard none of it.
I picked Temba because he doesn’t flinch. He carries a nation’s burden like a seasoned opener carries a new ball — patiently, with grit. He bats for more than just runs. He bats for meaning.
Their partnership — coach and captain — was not transactional. It was transformational. One from Lansdowne, one from Langa. United by purpose, forged in resistance.
The Final Word
This wasn’t about silencing critics, it was about honouring our story. A story that began not in leafy suburbs or private schools, but in the margins — where cricket was an escape and defiance in equal measure.
The match was defined not just by skill but by spirit. Aiden Markram’s century was as elegant as a Lord’s cover drive and as defiant as a Devon Road hook shot. Kyle Verreynne’s winning stroke was a release — of breath, belief, and years of national cricketing trauma.
Kyle pushed it through cover and I swear I saw the fence at Boeta Majid’s house crumble all over again.
Legacy of a Street Cricketer
At the post-match huddle, Shukri — never one for fanfare — allowed himself a moment of truth.
This mace isn’t just for you. It’s for the kids who bowl with bricks for stumps and chalk on walls for creases. It’s for Devon Road. For South Africa. We’ve arrived — not just as players, but as storytellers of a different kind.
Bavuma echoed that sentiment:
Character mattered more than statistics. Guys like KG (Rabada), like Aiden (Rabada) — they weren’t just names on a team sheet. They were pillars. Symbols of resilience.
It's been a special couple of days. At some point, it felt like we were back in South Africa with all the support in the stands.
We've prepared hard for this; we've worked hard for this moment. We came here with a lot of belief, I think also with a lot of doubters, and we're happy that we were able to play well enough to get that type of result.
It's been a special moment for us as a team, a special moment for all the people back home. Probably it will really sink in in a couple of days, but yeah, it's been special.
Bavuma, who after nine tests, is still unbeaten as skipper, said he could feel the team's energy was there because they were hungry for the win.
We've been knocking at that door, being relentless, getting ourselves into positions where we can be in the finals.
We've gone through the heartache, we've gone through the disappointment, and seen it with past players who've come before us. The sun is on us at the moment. We've been carrying that responsibility and hopefully this is one of many more victories.
The Final Run Home
Shukri’s journey mirrors South Africa’s — complicated, courageous, unfinished. A boy who battled and bowled in the street, is now the man who lit up Lord’s. And just like those Saturday morning street battles, he coached not with clipboard clichés but gut and gumption.
And when he looked around the Long Room, past the portraits of W.G. Grace and Sir Jack Hobbs, he didn’t see history. He saw inclusion.
I stood there and I thought — we belong here. Not just me. Not just Temba. But every kid from every township on the Cape Flats and forgotten place who ever dared to dream with a taped-up tennis ball.
This was not just South Africa’s win. It was a victory for dreams once deferred.
So, here’s to number 65 and 67 Devon Road, Lansdowne. To Lord’s. To leather and willow. And to the boy who never stopped dreaming and believing.
Shukri Conrad. World Champion Coach.
And always, my next-door neighbour.
