Bleeding feet to ending Shoaib’s fairytale title win
There were days when Muhammad Shoaib trained in slippers, wearing Salwar Kameez because he couldn’t afford shoes and tennis apparel.
There were days when his worn-out shoes had torn soles but he kept on playing, the blisters and oozing blood bearing testimony of the pain he endured for countless hours.
Days when access to a tennis court itself meant waiting for the harsh midday heat, because only then would it be empty enough for someone like him to sneak in a session at Peshawar Club.
On Sunday in Islamabad, that same boy stood as Pakistan’s newest tennis champion and only the third in his country’s tennis history after Aisam-ul-Haq Qureshi and Aqeel Khan.
Shoaib’s stunning ITF Futures title not only fulfilled a deeply personal dream but also ended a 20-year wait for a Pakistani singles winner, a drought stretching back to 2007, when Aqeel won a Futures event in Lahore and Aisam clinched a Challenger title in Delhi later that year.
Shoaib’s title sits at the lowest rung of the Pro Circuit, a humble milestone in a country that has only glimpsed Grand Slam glory through Aisam’s doubles exploits. Yet, Pakistan has not tasted much singles success, hence Shoaib’s feat assumes significance in that context.
A childhood carved out of struggle: Shoaib’s journey began not with dreams of titles, but as a ball boy in Peshawar, following the footsteps of his brother Shah Hussain and learning under his maternal uncle Roman Gul.
His father, Haider Hussain, a daily-wage labourer, often urged him to quit. He would earn Rs 500-600 a day in farms and on a rainy day, the family would worry about a meal without work.
“He told me to study, to become a teacher or engineer. Tennis was too expensive for us,” Shoaib recalled.
But his mother refused to let him give up.
“She always said, if you work hard, you will prove everyone wrong.”
Even the basics of the sport were a luxury. He bought second-hand rackets and worn-out shoes from local markets. At times, even those weren’t available.
“I used to play in slippers and wear a Salwar Kameez. We didn’t have money for anything.”
The conditions were brutal. Old tennis balls were dampened with water to slow them down. Practice sessions were squeezed into unbearable heat because that was the only time courts were free.
And then there were the shoes.
“There were holes in them. When I slid, my feet would bleed. But I kept on playing.”
A dream he didn’t dare to dream: What makes the triumph even more remarkable is how small Shoaib’s expectations were when the tournament began.
“My goal was just one ATP point. I just wanted to start my journey,” Shoaib told PTI from Islamabad.
Years of heartbreak had conditioned him to think that way.
He had led matches against higher-ranked players, only to falter at crucial moments. Confidence was fragile, belief even more so.
But something shifted in Islamabad.
After getting that first point, he started playing freely. One win became two. Then came a fearless upset of the top seed - sealed, fittingly, with an ace under pressure.
“I told myself I will give 100 percent so that I don’t regret about anything,” he said.
By the time he reached the final, he wasn’t thinking about history - just the next point, the next opportunity. From chasing one ATP point, he walked away with 15 and the title.
“When I won, I couldn’t believe it. People told me I had broken a 20-year record. That was never in my mind.”
From unranked to No. 1: In the space of a week, Shoaib is set to go from unranked to Pakistan’s No. 1 singles player, a staggering rise in a country where tennis has long struggled for visibility and support.
The sport, however, has begun to see signs of revival since Aisam-ul-Haq Qureshi took charge of the Pakistan Tennis Federation, bringing more tournaments to home soil and offering players like Shoaib a rare platform.
“He thinks like a player. That has helped us a lot.”
The reality behind the triumph: For all the glory of his breakthrough, Shoaib remains grounded in a harsh truth: success alone does not guarantee survival in professional tennis.
“We don’t have sponsors. Even playing one tournament is difficult.”
His ambitions are clear: to compete in 15-20 tournaments and climb the rankings. But the means remain uncertain.
“What will I do with these 15 points if I don’t get a sponsor?” he asked bluntly.
More than just a title: Shoaib remembers when legendary Leander Paes praised him during the India-Pakistan Davis Cup tie in Kazakhstan and now wants to travel to India to play some tournaments.
Shoaib’s victory is not just the end of a long wait, it is a rare moment of belief for Pakistani tennis.
From playing in slippers and salwar kameez to lifting a trophy on home soil, his story is a reminder of what persistence can achieve and what still needs to change.
“I always believed that if I work hard, I will be rewarded,” he said.
For now, that reward has come. Whether it becomes a turning point for his career and for Pakistan tennis, it depends on what happens next.
