Bowled Over by Friendship: Learning Life from a Cricket Legend

I met Chris Gayle in 2021 at the Dubai World Expo, during the height of COVID travel restrictions. The world was still holding its breath—borders closed, conversations muffled by masks. I found myself invited by my dear Emirati friend Ahmed to attend the Expo and to a dinner filled with fascinating guests.

My friend Ahmed embodies the spirit of hospitality, just as Abraham did in Genesis 18, when he welcomed three strangers into his tent with food, comfort, and fellowship. Ahmed routinely opens his home and table to a diverse gathering of guests—offering not just hospitality, but heartfelt connection across cultures and souls. Ahmed passionately invites and connects UAE with the global community and embodies the spirit of Abraham, who exemplified hachnasat orchim, the sacred tradition of welcoming guests. Like Abraham, Ahmed expands his heart at every gathering, creating space not only for conversation, but for soulful connection and the possibility of future collaboration. In Genesis 18:1–8, Abraham welcomed three strangers into his tent with open arms, offering food, comfort, and fellowship. That evening in Dubai, with Ahmed, felt like such a tent, where strangers became friends, and new stories quietly began.

After dinner, I was introduced to someone with a sparkle in his eye and an unmistakable charisma.

“Do you know who this is?” someone asked, pointing to the man beside me.

I shrugged, honest and unfiltered: “No idea.”

“This is Chris Gayle. The greatest cricket legend of all time.”

I nodded politely and admitted, “I’ve never seen a game of cricket. I don’t even know the rules.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

Our meeting also happened to coincide with the ICC T20 World Cup, hosted in the UAE during the fall of 2021. Though officially organized by India, the tournament was relocated to Dubai, Abu Dhabi, and Sharjah due to COVID concerns. The entire cricketing world had descended upon the Emirates. Even in the heart of this global celebration of the sport, I remained blissfully unaware of the rules of cricket. It made my friendship with Chris all the more extraordinary: I met the legend not through the lens of fandom, but through the simple joy of connection.

How could anyone, especially someone who travels the world, have never heard of Chris Gayle or the game that commands the devotion of billions?

That moment, marked by my ignorance of the sport that defined his life, was not a stumbling block, but a doorway. We laughed. We talked. And, unexpectedly, we became friends.

Over the months and years that followed, I came to learn about Chris, not the cricket icon, but the person. I learned about his early life in Jamaica. The challenges he faced. The ways he didn’t always fit the mold of what people expected a cricket star to be. I learned how he transcended boundaries, not just geographic, but emotional and cultural. Despite being from a small island nation, he became a beloved figure in India, where On India’s 73rd Republic Day, Prime Minister Modi sent him a personal message acknowledging his “profound connection” with India. A West Indian man, an honorary Indian, and an ambassador of joy and sport around the world.

And still I must confess I know nothing about cricket.

I couldn’t tell you what a “googly” is or how many runs make a century. I have no idea what it means to be bowled out or how long a test match lasts or what a test match even is. Cricket remains a foreign language to me. But friendship never has.

There’s beauty in that. A spiritual truth.

We often assume we must understand someone’s world to connect with them. That we need to share the same interests, the same rituals, or the same passions. But the Torah teaches something far deeper. Acquire for yourself a friend, says Pirkei Avot (1:6) not a clone, not a mirror, but also a teacher. The kind of connection born not from sameness but sincerity.

Many people seek out others with the same perspectives. It validates one’s ideas and feels more comfortable. I spent time contemplating the idea of “sameness” and studying different philosophies and have concluded that nothing can actually be the same. The Greek philosopher Heraclitus famously said “No man enters the river twice, for it is not the same man, and it is not the same river.”

Chris and I became friends not because we spoke the same language of cricket, but because we shared the languages of presence, laughter, respect, and curiosity.

When I travel, people light up when I mention Chris. In Mumbai, in Marrakesh, in Manhattan, it’s always the same. “You know Chris Gayle?” they ask, wide-eyed. “Can you send him a message?” Often, I do. And Chris replies. Not with pretense or delay, but with warmth. His fans see him as a hero. I see him as a human being, generous, kind, and humble.

When Chris travels, he lights up the people around him, even those who have no idea who he is. I once invited Chris to an event in Miami. It was remarkable: so many guests came up to me asking if they could take a photo with him. But the most common question wasn’t about cricket, it was, “Who is he?” Though they didn’t recognize his legendary status on the cricket pitch, they were instantly drawn to his charismatic smile, joyful presence, and magnetic spirit.

In the Torah, I see echoes of Chris’s journey in Joseph, the dreamer sold into slavery who rises to prominence in a foreign land, becoming a beloved and trusted figure in Egypt. Like Joseph, Chris transcended his origins and won the hearts of people from vastly different backgrounds. His story is not one of belonging to a single place, but of belonging everywhere. To Everyone.

I also think of the righteous stranger, embraced by the community, honored not despite his differences but because of them. In Exodus 12:49, we read, “There shall be one law for the native and for the stranger who sojourns among you.” Chris may not have been born in India, but his spirit was welcomed there, his joy adopted as its own.

This friendship, born of serendipity and sustained without shared knowledge of the game he loves, has become an unexpected blessing of my life. It reminds me that spiritual connection doesn’t require fluency in someone else’s rituals, just reverence for their humanity.

There is beauty in being open to others. Like Moses accepting wise counsel from Jethro (Exodus 18), or Ruth choosing to walk beside Naomi and embrace her people and God (Ruth 1:16). These sacred bonds, born across lines of difference, remind us that the deepest spiritual connections often emerge where we least expect them.

I may never understand cricket, But I understand kindness and character. I understand that sometimes the most profound lessons come not from what we know; but from what we’re willing to learn.

Enjoy a haiku inspired by this blog:
Bats swing, I stay still—
Knowing nothing of the game,
Still, our hearts align.

Andy and Chris Gayle in Miami in April 1, 2022.