SHANE WARNE was probably the most charismatic and successful cricketer of all times.

One-man, one-man headline business.

Warne could not only make a cricket ball talk but could also make it recite poetry.

He revived the dying art of leg-spin-bowling.

A whole generation of children around the world wanted to be like Warne.

They didn't succeed, but they tried. They're still trying.

His off-field misfortunes only added to his legend.

The bowling was the most important thing. The bowling will always be there.

In 100 years, Warne's bowling will still be talked about by people.

It all began in Manchester, early June 1993.

Warne played 11 Test matches, and was establishing a reputation for being a spin bowler with unusual skills and personality.

What could he do at cricket's most important stage, the Ashes? What could he do on cricket's biggest stage - the Ashes? He could only bowl the Ball of the Century against England with his first ever ball.

Warne spun his delivery so hard it skidded in the air. It was pitched outside Mike Gatting’s leg stump, fizzed past Gatting's bat, and then hit the off stump.

It was impossible for anyone to believe, not even Gatting.

Live updates from Shane Warne's death can be found on our Shane Warne Blog

It has defied logic and gravity countless times.

Warne became a superstar and tortured and tormented the batsmen for 13 years.

He tied them up with his bowling, and often overwhelmed them with the power of his personality.

His dynamic personality was what helped Warne's Rajasthan Royals win the first Indian Premier League title in 2008.

Warne was a great bowler and I had the pleasure of meeting him in the nets during the summer 1993.

His cricket brain was sharp, and his sense of humor and energy were always present.

There were many more.

Do you remember the one that Andrew Strauss had at Edgbaston 2005? It was so far it smashed England's opener as he tried and kicked it away.

After almost 30 years, England won the Ashes again in 2005. Warne, however, took 40 wickets. Even the Barmy Army cheered his name.

Warne was a charismatic personality with his blond hair, and beautiful eyes. He was magnetic. He was a magnet for girls.

He once went to meet a woman while he was in the middle of an interview with a friend who was a journalist. He returned with a smile, and the conversation was over.

He was harsh when he took on someone - just ask Marlon Samuels, former West Indies batsman - but he was loyal and down to earth friend.

He preferred pizza to Michelin stars, so he hosted an Ashes Christmas Day barbecue at his Melbourne home.

Warne was often seen sneaking into a quiet corner to smoke an illicit cigarette or dart at every Test.

Warne was actually a child dreaming of playing Aussie Rules. The No.23 shirt was a tribute to Dermott Brereton and not Michael Jordan. He almost fell into cricket by accident.

His progress was quick. Warne had strong wrists. He put it down to being in a wheelchair for a childhood injury. Warne also developed a variety of leggies and flippers. Kidology was a part of the fun.

While others could spin the ball, Warne's accuracy was what truly set him apart. He could hit the ball on sixpence.

Warne's last tweet, less than 24 hours before his death, was a tribute for Rod Marsh (former Aussie wicketkeeper), who also died this week.

The tributes came pouring in as the cricket world tried to cope with Warne’s passing.

Michael Vaughan and Kevin Pietersen both called him King, while Virender Sehwag, an ex-India opener, said that he "made bowling spin cool."

However, most people couldn't comprehend the news.