If Moeen Ali takes up England’s Ashes SOS, his Warwickshire comeback will have been brief. Still, Moeen is officially back at his hometown club after a 16-year absence and for a city that doesn’t make a fuss like Birmingham, it feels a pretty big deal.
The England all-rounder has already captained Birmingham Phoenix in the Hundred, but with a three-year deal to lead Birmingham Bears in the T20 Blast – starting last Friday – a local hero has rejoined the club that sit atop the cricket pyramid in these parts, not just the four-week pop-up franchise.
The significance came across while sitting down for a coffee with his father, Munir, close to Edgbaston, a few days before his son picked up a second Indian Premier League winners’ medal. Decked out in the tracksuit of the Moeen Ali High Performance Cricket Academy – the coaching school he runs with his remarkable family – the 68-year-old was as talkative as Moeen had warned.
It followed a slightly sheepish invitation on my part. Seven years a south Birmingham resident, I have never ceased to be amazed by the number of locals who know the Alis. It’s not just club cricketers, of whom hundreds have played with or against them. When small talk turns to cricket with shopkeepers, taxi drivers or parents at school, so many cite a connection. Yet despite getting to know Moeen, Kadeer and their cousin, Kabir, during this time, I had somehow never met Munir.
“Oh yes, Moeen is ‘cousin’ to a lot of people. I’m always ‘uncle’,” says Munir, smiling at this through a thick moustache that curls up at the ends like an army general. “Moeen is very popular and I’m happy he is back at Warwickshire. In fact I persuaded him to come back. Worcestershire and Yorkshire offered more money, but he has never been greedy. And he can help me run the academy even better. The kids always ask about him and he does pop in but this makes it even easier.”
Moeen’s greater proximity as a mentor and role model is not the only upside. As part of the comeback, a 40% discount was agreed for Munir’s use of the Edgbaston indoor school to make it more affordable for the local community. Every winter he is almost always to be found there, his team – led by Kadeer, his eldest son and Worcestershire’s assistant coach – training around “80 to 100” youngsters a week. Typically, he spends £25,000 for six months of usage and the cut is welcome.
Munir has been doing this for more than 25 years of his life and some life it has been. Born in Birmingham to an English mother and Pakistani father, he lived in Pakistan until he was 10 before returning to Birmingham when his parents split up. Munir and his twin brother, Shabir, did not speak English initially and struggled with confidence at school, developing stammers as a result. Raised by uncles who worked in the local factory, money was scarce and times invariably tough.
After O-levels, Munir trained to become a psychiatric nurse and he and his brother married sisters, moving into adjoining houses. From there, the two families grew and through a passion for cricket – Munir, a league stalwart, tells tales of facing Colin Croft in the 1970s – two England internationals were formed, Moeen and Kabir, plus a third first-class pro in Kadeer. Omar, Munir’s youngest, is still wreaking havoc for Attock and has played county second XI cricket, as has Aatif, Kabir’s younger brother.
“I promised myself my kids would not go through what I went through,” says Munir, that stammer only occasionally resurfacing. “My brother and I would buy chickens and sell them door to door, just to make some extra money. There were times I would check the back of the sofa for coins. I remember taking Kadeer to a match in Somerset once and not eating all day. It was a struggle but I had made up my mind.”
The enthusiasm of the boys was off the charts, spending every waking hour playing in the garden, on the street, at school or in the park on Stoney Lane in Sparkhill. If it rained, they would switch to the alley by the side of the house – “it’s why they play so well through V,” says Munir – and even lounging indoors, a ball was always being thrown around. Munir and Shabir invested in a bowling machine for the garden, taking out loans from friends upon discovering they didn’t come cheap.
“The boys were aware of the sacrifice my brother and I were making for them,” Munir says. “We had very little but even if they just ate eggs and bread for tea, they never once complained and finished what we gave them. We never took holidays and we made sure they had the best gear – top bats and pads – because we didn’t want them to feel inadequate around the others. Mentally, they were all very mature.
“Initially, we thought if one could play first-class cricket, that would be good. Kabir went on to play for England, but Moeen was different. It was his attitude, his lack of fear and the shots he possessed. Kabir even said to me once: ‘Uncle, work hard with Moeen, he’ll become a superstar. He’s got something different.’
“So when Moeen was 13, I made him a deal. I said ‘give me two years of your life and you can do whatever you want after that. No friends, no girlfriends’ … just cricket, cricket, cricket.’”
As the boys flourished in club cricket and moved through the county’s pathway, Munir’s private academy started to take shape. He took his bowling machine to Saltley Academy school in Bordesley Green and laid on sessions for the local area, forever trying to keep the price down to involve as many as possible. In time he moved this to Edgbaston, but relations with Warwickshire were not always straightforward, with first Kabir and then Moeen leaving for Worcestershire.
“We didn’t get what we deserved at Edgbaston,” says Munir. “Kabir went on an Under-19s tour to South Africa, was top wicket-taker, but at the end five boys got rookie contracts and he wasn’t one of them. I spoke to Worcestershire, Warwickshire found out about this, and only then offered us a contract. I asked what the difference was now compared to a few days earlier? I got called disloyal and a troublemaker.”
It was a tag Munir continued to hear, as well as whispers that some club officials were questioning the relatively low rates he was being charged. A desire to keep his talented son meant this was tempered to a degree, he says. But at the end of 2006, aged 19 and having made his first XI debut that summer, Moeen was fatefully told he was still “five years” away from becoming a regular.
“I was shocked,” Munir says. “I couldn’t sleep all night when I was told this. Five years? I decided there and then we were wasting our time. So I went to Worcestershire and, when Moeen’s name came up, they grabbed the opportunity.”
Moeen’s move came as he was starting to embrace his faith more and the fresh start it allowed him was not insignificant. Munir, more culturally Muslim than practising, says he worried when his son grew the now famous beard. “He was mixing with guys who were religious minded and in those days lots of talk of terrorism. But Moeen said not to worry and his belief was right – it made him a stronger person.”
Munir refused to up sticks, however, ignoring the chatter about his son’s departure and blocking out the booking sheet at Edgbaston’s indoor school. Along the way, he claims, requests for funding were knocked back without good reasons and he believes some parents were told to stay away from him. “There were times when I felt like the most hated man in Warwickshire.”
There is a hint some of this may have been more sinister, but Munir chooses not to go deeper. “If I was to say some things, Warwickshire would be in more trouble than Yorkshire. But this is my home club. I have only ever wanted to develop players for Warwickshire and hopefully England. I have never had any bad feelings towards the club. It was down to individuals stabbing me behind my back. I have always spoken from the heart and in the past some people didn’t like that.”
English cricket’s recent reckoning, and the looming Independent Commission for Equity in Cricket report, coincide with a shortcoming locally: a Warwickshire men’s first XI that have been typically all white in recent times, too often sourced from smaller counties and unrepresentative of the city in which they reside. After all, about a third of the population in Birmingham is from a south Asian background; in recreational cricket this is thought to rise to about half.
“When it comes to the first team, I ask myself: ‘Are they good enough?’” says Munir. “Honestly, in the past, the answer was ‘no’ in most cases. So I don’t blame Warwickshire. And for a lot of [British Asian] families, education takes priority, cricket is seen as more risky. But about 70% of the academy boys now are [British Asian] so I am optimistic. Seven or eight right now have worked with us along the way.”
Munir sits on an advisory panel of local coaches, faith leaders and community champions to drive greater diversity at the club and namechecks Stuart Cain, Warwickshire’s chief executive, and Paul Greetham, the academy director, for their progressive outlook. Greetham worked with Moeen in his early years and says that without the high volume training offered by academies such as Munir’s, Warwickshire would be “much poorer” and Moeen’s return is “an emotional moment” both personally and for the club.
As we wrap up, I ask which moment along the way has been Munir’s proudest. “It is still to come,” comes the reply. “Moeen will be awarded his OBE this summer and that will be the icing on the cake – my son being recognised by the king. I am planning to write a book about it all, called the Making of Moeen Ali. I sacrificed my life for my children and I’m happy that I did. They are good, humble boys. Not arrogant. And that makes me just as proud.”
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