If you told me at 10 years old that the best player in the Premier League would be Muslim, I would have unpaused my record-breaking round of Geometry Wars and ignored you. If you told me he would have the name: Mohamed Salah, I would have told you to get out of my room.

I’ve been watching football for as long as I can remember. It feels like I’ve witnessed and read about pretty much everything that could possibly happen in the game. And not once did I ever think I could relate to a Premier League GOAT on a spiritual level. I have Salah to thank for changing that. 

Last month was Ramadan, a time for reflection, self-improvement and strengthening spiritual bonds. It's also a time in the football calendar where Muslim ballers are in focus more than any other time of the year. As I sat and thought about this, I felt a deep sense of pride when reminiscing on all that Salah's achieved during his time in the Premier League.

Just seeing a fellow brother in Islam reach heights that not even that 10-year-old me could imagine, means so much. Words can’t do the feeling justice, but I’m going to try.

We’re talking about someone who’s unapologetically Muslim on the biggest stages football has to offer. A player who bows his head in prostration, or ‘sujud’, every time he scores a goal — which is a lot of times. A reminder to himself, and the watching world, that God is to thank for his brilliance. 

He holds his hands up and makes supplications — otherwise known as ‘dua’ — before games. He’s open about reading the Quran on long journeys in between matches. He is flying the flag for Muslims in a sport that hasn’t always accepted us, and he’s breaking records in the process.

Honestly, it never occurred to me until a recent conversation I had with a relative. We spoke about how Salah’s name is colloquially shortened to ‘Mo Salah’ and why it’s an issue. The reason why the name ‘Mohamed’ — in all its iterations — is the most popular name among Muslims is because the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) is believed to be the final messenger of God and is therefore revered in Islamic faith.

It’s a sacred name and so should not be shortened as a way of making a nickname. Combine that with his last name ‘Salah’ — the Arabic word for ‘prayer’ and one of the five pillars of Islam — and not even AI could come up with a more Muslim name.

Of course, detractors will be quick to bring up his Christmas tree posts on social media. I wince when I hear this because it’s almost always used as a tit-for-tat tactic to tarnish his name — either among Muslims or other footballing greats.

Salah, or any other Muslim’s closeness to Islam should never be measured by their perceived shortcomings. Especially when those same people don’t acknowledge how much of the faith he so effortlessly incorporates into his career in comparison. 

No Muslim is perfect, and I would much rather measure his value to Muslims around the world through his many acts of piety. He is not above criticism, but the fact he has risen to the top of football’s food chain with Islam firmly in his heart, and in his actions, is something the Premier League has not seen at this level. In my eyes, he should be championed regardless.

So, if you have a 10-year-old football fan in your family, tell them about how things weren’t always like this. Tell them how important it is that the name Mohamed Salah will one day grace the Premier League Hall of Fame.

But above all else, tell them that if he can do it, the opportunities for us in football are endless.

Whenever people brought up the fact that Salah singlehandedly reduced Islamophobia and hate crime rates in Liverpool, I used to feel torn. On the one hand, it shouldn’t take the greatest Muslim baller playing for your team, for you not to abuse everyday Muslims. But on the other hand, he’s undoing a lot of the harmful rhetoric that the media has perpetuated about Islam and those who practise it. And he’s doing it just by being himself.

I grew up in a time where it wasn’t always clear when a player was Muslim. Unless they had a noticeably Muslim name, which was still rare, a lot of it came down to speculation and playground gossip. A prime example of this is when people thought Thierry Henry was performing a sujud after scoring in 2006, but was actually just kissing the Highbury turf in his last game at Arsenal’s old stadium. And frankly, I don’t blame the Muslim ballers of yesteryear for not being as forthright as they perhaps wanted to be about their commitment to Islam.

That’s why Salah’s unmistakable reverence for Islam is so compelling to me. Yes, he has the name. But he follows through with his actions. He doesn’t feel the need to hide his faith, and that fortitude is undoubtedly opening people up to Islam through the prism of football. The best and most recognisable Muslim footballer is dominating in a sport, and a country, which hasn’t always been the most considerate to Muslims. That alone is a poignant piece of reflection that I’ve come to cherish.