In the finish, he left the way he came. In a hurry. Playing shots that you couldn’t believe he would. Playing shots that you wouldn’t believe he could. It was entertaining. It was exciting. It put smiles on faces. All around the SCG and around households all over Australia. Everything he said he wants to be remembered for.

In a Test career that repeatedly evoked the “who writes his scripts” narrative, it felt like the farewell couldn’t have been scripted better. Tight run chase. Tricky pitch. Series whitewash on the line. A sunny day in Sydney. A packed and noisy Saturday crowd at the SCG. And all eyes on him.

He’d walked out to bat in his final innings alongside his childhood friend Usman Khawaja. He’d then got to put on a stand with his most prolific partner in terms of average, Marnus Labuschagne. Most importantly, he’d also got the stage and the platform to play one final match-winning knock. Even better that he’d got the license to do it in a way only he can.

It did feel like watching the greatest hits of David Warner. Scratch that. This needs more a wrestling than a music analogy. For, if anything, as Warner’s innings progressed on Saturday (January 6), it felt more like a battle-hardened pro-wrestler of renown showing off all his moves and manoeuvres, one at a time.

This was after all the ultimate showman of Test opening putting on a show and going out with a similar bang he came in with over a decade ago. Starting with his entrance into the arena. It started with a hug and a cuddle with Khawaja near the dug-out this time before that familiar sprint on to the field while shadow-practicing a few characteristically punchy drives. Followed by a look to the heavens with a slight twist of the head as always.

By the fourth ball he faced, Warner had pulled off one classic move. Pushing the ball into a gap and scampering back for a second run, where most batters would have settled for a single. Then off the 12th delivery he faced, came a scything square cut to a length delivery from Mir Hamza which had enough width for him to jump all over it. Two balls later came a Warner routine which dates back to his very beginnings in international cricket. A reverse sweep off off-spinner Sajid Khan, with his hands and feet getting into position to play it as smoothly as they always have.

In Sajid’s next over, he stepped out and chipped him over mid-on for another boundary. That too against the turn on a pitch with a lot of turn. An element of risk? Sure. But all part of the Warner show.

Warner did receive a reprieve in Sajid’s next over as a he miscued another attempt at clearing mid-on and was nearly caught spectacularly by Aamer Jamal. So, what does he do next ball? He drops to his knee and tries to reverse scoop a full delivery from Hasan Ali, getting into an ugly position and nearly geting himself out. It was probably the most outrageous shot he’d play in his last knock as a Test batter. But for every over he faced from that point on, there was at least one shot from the David Warner batting manual that he’d look to play, which told you that he was just showing off and having fun.

An element of danger? Sure. But all part of the Warner show.

After a dozen years of keeping you on the edge of your seat, Warner was dragging you closer and closer to the edge every time you thought you could just sit back and soak in the final few flourishes of his glorious career. And there you’d remain as he ticked off the last few routines on his ‘living dangerously with David Warner’ tour.

There was also a 100-run partnership embrace with Labuschagne, one he’s indulged in a few times with the Queenslander. It was a crucial coming together but also one where Warner’s busyness and verve at the crease rubbed off on Labuschagne when it mattered most. It led to a shift in gear from the No 3, and it meant that Pakistan’s hopes of making the run-chase a bit challenging were blown away very quickly. Classic partnership batting. One of Warner’s unsung strengths and what will be a part of his legacy.

Along with his running between the wickets. The way he was pushing for the third run even if there wasn’t the chance for it or the way he was focused on getting back for an extra run after Jamal’s dive to catch was in vain. All part of the Warner show.

There was to be no distinct leap in the air for a milestone celebration but we did get a poignant acknowledgment of getting to his final half-century in the longer format. A wave of the bat in all directions followed by a look to the heavens and a quiet word to the late Phillip Hughes.

And there was even more poignancy with his final walk off the field, saluting the crowd that he divided opinions with massively, but had got all on his side, at least for this once. The SCG rose as one, and everyone from the Pakistani players to the umpires stood clapping, as Warner walked up the historic steps of the iconic SCG dressing-room for one final time.

We’d seen the different shades of David Warner during his last week as a Test cricketer. There was the vulnerable side to him as he requested for his Baggy Green to be returned. There was the doting dad as his youngest daughter, Isla, held on to him after the national anthem and innocently asked her father to go “play’ with her instead of walking out to field in his final Test.

A couple of days out from the Boxing Day Test, Warner was having a bat in the net closest to the viewing area at the MCG. Bothered by the shadows on the pitch from those standing on the concourse above him, Warner began organising them in such a way that the kids were stood right above where the good length area were so as to leave it bright. Much to the amusement of those fans, who were happy to let Warner puppeteer them around. All part of the Warner show.

One whose last gong rung out at the SCG on Saturday. One that will henceforth be played out through career highlight reels, anniversary clips and every other format of nostalgia and memory-seeking. One that will never be replicated or replaced.

For 13 Test summers in Australia, every time you’ve seen him do something outrageous and gone, ‘Who does that in Test cricket?’, the response always has been “David Warner does.” And now with him gone, as much as he will miss wearing the Baggy Green and playing Test cricket, it’s safe to say Test cricket will miss him more. For, he left the way he came.