Wasim Akram’s heartfelt tribute to Imran Khan amid a cricket‑loving nation’s turmoil

When you sit down with a legend like Wasim Akram, you expect the usual cricket chatter—bowling speeds, unbeaten records, maybe a war‑story from a Lancaster night. What you get, instead, is a half‑hour of pure, unscripted honesty that drifts from the playful to the painfully personal.

Akram, who spent a decade turning out for Lancashire, still speaks with that unmistakable soft‑Lancaster draw when he talks about England. “I love the people there,” he says, chuckling, “and the rain that never seems to stop the game.” He then launches into a tirade about The Hundred, the new short‑form franchise that’s been stirring the pot in English cricket. “I’m so fing confused by it,” he mutters, the kind of profanity that feels more like a sigh than an outburst.

His opinions on modern bowling trends are no less colorful. He sneers at the so‑called “wobble seam” and rolls his eyes at wicket‑keepers daring to stand up to fast bowlers. “If a keeper suggested it to me, I’d knock his block off with a bouncer next ball,” he threatens, half‑joking, half‑serious.

Then the tone shifts. After about thirty minutes, the conversation drifts to the man who shaped Akram’s career more than anyone else—Imran Khan. The fire in his voice dims, the humor fades, and a more reverent hush settles over the room.

“Imran was my mentor,” Akram says quietly, as if saying a prayer. “He’s my friend. I miss him a lot. I haven’t spoken to him in three years.” The words feel heavy, laden with a grief that’s both personal and political.

Imran Khan, now 73, has been behind bars since August 2023 on corruption charges he steadfastly denies. Recent weeks have seen his health come under a harsh spotlight: his eyes are worsening, his cell is described as “tiny,” and his sons, Kasim and Sulaiman, have pleaded on Sky Sports for better medical care. The Pakistani government, meanwhile, points to a tally of 900+ visits from family, lawyers and doctors, insisting the former prime minister is being treated humanely.

Akram, watching the interview from his home in Lahore, remembers the interview’s conductor—former Lancashire teammate Michael Atherton—who asked the brothers to speak. “There was a bit of uproar after that,” Akram recalls. “Numbers were thrown around, but it’s hard to know what to believe right now.”

When asked whether he feels safe speaking out, Akram leans back and sighs. “I’m okay,” he answers. “As long as I stay away from the politics or legal wrangling, I can say what’s on my mind. I’m not a politician, I’m a cricketer. The court decides, we all have to live with that.”

His 2022 memoir, Sultan*, is filled with glowing tributes from the likes of Steve Waugh and Sachin Tendulkar, yet Akram says the only person who truly guided him was Imran. He quotes a passage from the book: “Sometimes you meet a hero and it’s disappointing. I met mine, and he wasn’t. Just to spend time with him was a privilege. He was poised, magnetic, always with a book in his hand, speaking in that calm, bass voice with an Oxford accent. To my bowling he gave his complete attention… he was always seeking me out. I was his project.”

Even now, long after retirement, the bond remains strong. “We used to meet, talk, laugh,” Akram tells The Athletic. “I miss talking to him. I miss him as a friend, politics apart.” Those final words hint at the tightrope he walks—honoring a lifelong friend while keeping clear of a volatile political landscape.

International cricket figures have begun to weigh in. Former England captain Michael Atherton, now a broadcaster, joined 22 ex‑captains in a letter urging the Pakistani government to ensure Imran receives “immediate, adequate and ongoing medical attention.” The sentiment is echoed by Akram, who admits he’s “speaking from the heart as someone who worries about him as a person—convicted or not, jail or no jail.”

For fans of the sport, Akram’s candid confession is a reminder that beyond the statistics and accolades, cricket is about people, mentorship, and deep, enduring friendships that survive even the darkest of times.