Brad Haddin was still a teenager when I first met him. It was at Boomanulla Oval, a hot, dusty, windy day, as it always seemed to be at Narrabundah in late January.

ANU, his team, were playing Queanbeyan, his hometown team, a team full of men, hard men, men such as Simon Mann, and brothers Michael and Stephen Frost, who always played to win. There was no love lost between the two sides. Another Queanbeyan resident, Peter Solway, was also playing for ANU, he was probably captain. There was a bit at stake. Pride and bragging rights.

I can't remember who won. It was close to 20 years ago. But what I do remember is that every one of us there knew that this youngster was destined for bigger things.

There was something in the way he carried himself. With all that, what the kids now call swag – was swag even a word in 1996? – that 19 year olds have. But there was something else, even back then, a belief in his innate ability that was always touched by some humility.

Growing up in Queanbeyan might do that to you. You know you're going to have to work harder, be better prepared, be more resilient just to get a look in. You might well know you've got what it takes, but that is something you'll never take for granted. You'll prove it. Think Ricky Stuart, think Matt Giteau, think Heather McKay and Mark Webber. Think Campo. Humility and Campo in the one thought? Okay, maybe don't think Campo. But you know what I mean.

Haddin was barely 20 when he was selected for the inaugural Canberra Comets team in the domestic one-day competition. Sure there were a couple of stars on board: former Test player Mike Veletta was captain/coach and legend Merv Hughes was an integral part of the team on and off the field. But on the whole, it was a team of local players who were ready to prove a point.

Haddin's start wasn't that great. He scored six against South Australia in the first game – the Comets lost. In Tasmania he scored 24 off 19 – the Comets lost. But then, on November 23, something happened.

I was there that day in Bendigo. I had to convince The Canberra Times that it was worth sending me away. (For the Hobart trip, I'd stayed in the spare bedroom of a colleague's parent's house to cut costs.) So I bludged a lift from four Cricket ACT stalwarts and headed off on a seven hour road trip with my adopted quartet of pops.

With the Comets reeling at 3-28 there was a sense of deja vu, but then something happened. Haddin came into bat. The Comets won.

"There could not have been two more appropriate men to steer the Canberra Comets to their first win in the Mercantile Mutual Cup yesterday," I wrote back then. "The Comets beat Victoria by 15 runs after Canberra cricket legend Peter Solway and Brad Haddin, who represents a bright future, shared a record partnership of 174 off 182 balls to pull the Comets out of despair and ultimately to victory."

Haddin hit 89 off 91, their fourth-wicket partnership of 174 off 182 balls set a domestic one-day record.

And since that day, even though I have no right whatsoever, I've claimed a little piece of Brad Haddin every time he has walked out onto a cricket field.

And now he's retiring. His family needs him. He needs his family. He's 37 and probably had a few years left in him, if we're all honest; he could have gone on forever if the country needed him, but it was time to go. He regrets nothing. Enough is enough, he says, that competitive edge is gone.

I know it's probably not going to happen but I'd like to see something turn full circle. Solway's sons, Dean and Mark are top cricketers in their own right, albeit men themselves now. My son has come up against a formidable opponent in Sam Frost, the young son of Michael. You only have to watch Zac Haddin in the nets to know he'll be something special too.

Is it too much to ask that one day we'll all be back at Boomanulla Oval. Enjoying a few beers, reminiscing? No regrets. Talking about cricket and family. Two very important things in life. Just not necessarily in that order.