Few written tributes can more succinctly or completely capture Brett Lee’s playing career than did the televised pictures of his involvement in what could well be his penultimate competitive match.

There he was last night, taking the new ball in search of the vital early strike against the KFC Big Bash League’s dominant batting line-up as he sought to again steer his side into the finals.

Returning at the end when only the most meticulous can be risked, taking on the thankless job of trying to rein in an opponent’s innings that had long ago galloped out of control.

In between times, he was throwing himself about the outfield in a selfless bid to reduce the target his batting teammates had to pursue by a single or three, most of the time flashing that luminescent smile not usually a trademark of the fast-bowling cartel.

Except for those couple of occasions in his final overs when he felt aggrieved at being called for a line-ball wide or two.

At that point, the officiating umpire received an intensive course on what it must have been like for batsmen the world over from the time Lee announced his fiery arrival on the Test scene with a memorable five-wicket return against India in the last Boxing Day Test of the previous century.

Which underscores the most remarkable aspect of a truly noteworthy career.

The fact that as a world-class exponent of cricket’s most gruelling job – the express pace fast bowler – Lee continued to not only play but as a potential match-winner as well as a drawcard, until beyond his 38th birthday.

The age by which even Ricky Ponting, the man who by his own admission probably hung around a couple of years too many in the decidedly less arduous role of specialist batsman and who was watching Lee’s SCG endeavours last night from the sanctuary of his loungeroom, had given it away.

The records that Lee takes with him into retirement, and indeed a future already secured in a similar if not the same commentary box in which Ponting now spends much of his summer, are considerable and would doubtless be evaluated as even more so if he had not played in the era of bowling greats Shane Warne and Glenn McGrath.

Australia’s fourth-highest Test wicket-taker of all-time behind Warne, McGrath and Dennis Lillee.

Equal-highest wicket taker for Australia in one-day internationals, although McGrath can claim an extra scalp having played for an ICC World XI.

And even after a calf injury – his first major muscle tear in almost 20 years of top-level cricket – robbed him of plans to finish his international career at the ICC World T20 in 2012, Lee continued to ply his attritional trade in the Indian Premier League and the BBL.

Not just going through the motions, but bowling consistently above 135kph with an ability to swing the ball at pace – a rare skill in itself among express bowlers.

Which, in turn, speaks volumes for his competitive spirit and simple love of the game when you understand the level of physical stress that outright fast bowlers endure, and the commitment that art form requires to succeed in a game that is increasingly tipping in favour of batsmen.

Lee provided an inkling into the world of the fast bowler a decade ago when, during an ODI series in New Zealand, he regularly passed 150kph, sent at least one batsman to hospital (and then into international retirement) but was still unable to crack a place in the Australian Test XI.

That was despite having undergone major ankle surgery to repair a problem he had suffered since he was a teenager at the cricket academy in Adelaide, where he first came to prominence playing in a practice match against the national limited-overs team.

Lee bowling to big brother Shane in 1997

Having broken down during an Australian tour to Sri Lanka in 2004 – a problem exacerbated by the fact Lee had to bowl almost 40 overs on a lifeless Sydney pitch in the first innings of Steve Waugh’s final Test – he decided he could no longer push through the pain in his right leg.

"It was like someone sticking a knife or a chisel in the back of your ankle," Lee said at the time of the sensation that accompanied every delivery as his back leg landed on rock hard pitches and took the stress of his body running at full speed.

That constant pounding of the base of his shin bone into the ankle joint had produced a bone spur that was found to be floating in the joint, and while that was being fixed the surgeon also shaved off the base of Lee’s right tibia to lessen the chance of further impact injuries.

Then, with the patient still under anaesthetic, the specialist applied pressure of 15 times Lee’s body weight to his right leg – to replicate what happens every time he landed in his delivery stride – to ensure it would withstand the rigours of fast bowling.

That Lee played for another decade is a testament not only to the medical profession but his own willingness to get back to the top.

Like facing up to it, fast bowling is not for the faint-hearted.

Nor for the easily dispirited.

And that is why it has been so refreshing to watch Lee, suitably clad in the magenta strip given his standing as a pioneer of the metrosexual cricketer of the 21st Century (not many quicks have strummed guitar on a Bollywood-style love ballad), taking enjoyment from cricket until the end.

Like most out-and-out fast bowlers, containment was never his go.

His job was to intimidate, to bowl as fast as he could, and to target the best players in opposition teams.

Their wicket or their person.

He was never designed to become a stock bowler capable of drying up runs, and when the likes of McGrath, Gillespie and even Warne came to the end of their careers Lee’s role changed to be the steady experienced hand to whom captains could turn.

And there were times when his figures suffered for it.

Of the 14 Australians to have taken 200 Test wickets or more, none have returned them at a higher average than Lee’s 30.82 apiece.

Which makes his post-Test career – he played his final match in a Baggy Green cap at the same venue where he started (the MCG) just over six years ago – even more noteworthy.

For a genuine strike bowler to not only play beyond 35 but to do so in the guise of a crafty white ball specialist is something the cricket world is unlikely to see again anytime soon.

The reason why Lee was so highly valued in T20 franchises in Australia and on the subcontinent (his music career aside) was his capacity to stop batsmen scoring when they were looking to do so most heavily.

In the opening overs with the field up, and at the end in the mad dash for bonus runs.

Reverse swinging yorkers, slower ball bouncers, ‘perfume balls’ that could whizz past a batsman’s nose and make him reconsider any thoughts of charging down the pitch.

The arsenal that Lee developed through his Test experience enabled him to prolong his career in a format of the game that – at first glance – he would have seemed something of a mismatch for.

But as his final game for the Sydney Sixers will doubtless prove and as he is afforded the send-off he so duly deserves, Brett Lee was never one to shy away from a challenge.

And he took them all on with a smile.