But what happened on the pitch is only a small part of his story.

Over the past few months I’ve been recording interviews for a documentary about the player for BBC 5 live and BBC Arabic.

I watched him break down the boundaries of prejudice, religion and nationality. I watched him become a hero, not just in Liverpool itself, but across the country and right across the Middle East.

In fact, despite all his achievements with a football - including being named the Premier League’s Player of the Season, being named player of the year by both football writers and other players and winning the Golden Boot – I wondered if Salah’s influence off the pitch might be bigger than his impact on it.

I set out to find the untold story of this sporting hero. The journey took me from the back streets of Liverpool to the shadows of the Pyramids.

From meeting those on the Kop singing about Salah running down the wing to meeting some of the hundreds of men, women and children who depend on regular financial payments from Salah in his hometown of Nagrig, in northern Egypt.

Along the way, I met football fans of different faiths, nationality and club allegiance, all of whom were united in their respect for Salah.

They explained how that shared feeling has helped break down the boundaries that divide them.

The imam of the Liverpool mosque where Salah prays described how the player’s decision to openly perform sujood, where he kisses the ground after scoring a goal, encouraged non-Muslims to “take the first step” towards understanding and accepting his faith, and how the city’s Muslim community will welcome them in return.

In Egypt, amid the manic excitement surrounding Salah’s appearance in the European Champions League final and World Cup, I learned how the footballer has used his success on the pitch to directly change the lives of people off it for the better.

The head of the Egypt’s Anti-Drug and Addiction Fund told me Salah’s influence has increased the number of calls to its addiction helpline by four hundred percent.

The player has appeared in a television advert, imploring people to turn away from drugs. When Mohamed Salah says something, people listen.

In Salah’s hometown of Nagrig, I visited the half-completed shell of a school being built by a charity established and funded by the footballer, and a youth club renovated by Salah.

I also visited the site of an ambulance station they are hoping to build, and met some of the hundreds of men, women and children being supported by regular, monthly payments from Salah.

The donations of food and financial support are vital to the people who receive them.

In Nagrig, I also joined the crowds crammed in to a café built from corrugated metal sheets to watch Egypt’s first game of the World Cup, many of whom had been literally praying for his recovery after a shoulder injury in the Champions League final.

 

For Salah, and for Egypt, it was not to be – but talking to the people and watching their reaction afterwards, I realised that the result (or lack of it) had done nothing to detract from the standing of the local hero they value as much for what he has given back to the town as they do for his achievements since he left it.

What is the secret of Salah’s success? Many of the people I talked to spoke about his humility, his work ethic, even his smile. Others said it was the goals; that goals spoke for themselves.

What I learned was that Salah has managed to translate those achievements into something, ultimately, much more long-lasting.

Click here to listen to the podcast, 'Searching for Salah.'

With pundits and loyal listeners from across the globe, it continues to shine a unique light on international stories, teams and players.

Here, the BBC’s South American football correspondent Tim Vickery (aka ‘The Legendinho’) – who hasn’t missed a show since the very first! – reflects on how the show began, evolved and continues to thrive:

Early December 1997.

For the previous few months, I had been doing plenty of radio reports for the BBC World Service, and the odd thing for 5 live.

Up All Night had been launched. Someone from the show heard me and thought it might be worth a try.

I got a call: Did I fancy doing a quick round up of South American football, say five minutes long, on Sunday night? I did, and we were away.

But when the phone rang again the following week, I was surprised.

Oh, so we’re doing it again, are we? It’s a regular thing, is it? No one had told me! I had no idea what I was letting myself in for. Two decades later, it’s still going strong.

We went from five minutes, to ten, and then to fifteen.

In late 2002, I got an e-mail: We’re thinking of making it interactive, I was told. An hour long phone-in. Do you think it would work? Not a chance, I replied, and thought no more of it.

A few months later, when I dialled-in for the usual weekly round-up, I had some news: You know it’s extended tonight, I presume? I didn’t. Has no-one told you it’s now an hour long phone-in? No-one had. But let’s roll up our sleeves and try and make it work.

And here we still are, having grown to an hour and a half, then to two, and for occasional specials, up to four.

How has it lasted all this time? We’ve been lucky with presenters. Richard Dallyn saw that it was going down well, and gave it a boost. Anita Anand was wonderfully charming, and adept in handling the transition to a phone-in.

And then came Dotun.

A certain Cork City right back knows Dotun Adebayo as ‘Uncle D’ (sorry Tobi Adebayo-Rowling, but you have to share him with the world!).

He’s everyone’s Uncle D, a big Baloo the bear figure guiding all of us Mowglis through the highways of life.

Dotun is key to two of the main reasons, in my humble opinion, for the show’s success – and for the fact that, to my unending delight, it frequently appeals to people with little interest in the game of football.

One is the sheer warmth that is generated. The show really does feel like a global community, filled with mutual respect and affectionate banter.

All are included: pundits, callers, those who send in texts and e-mails, those who listen live or to the podcast. Radio can be a fine generator of intimacy.

The other is the programme’s sheer range. It can go from frivolous and infantile humour (guilty, your honour), to in-depth cultural discussion and back again, all in the space of a few minutes.

Very rarely do I put the mic down at the end of a show without feeling that the previous two hours were gloriously spent in a joyful weekly communion with old mates.

And of course, none of it would be possible without the loyal listeners…

“The World Football Phone-In has been a central part of my week for the last 10 years, having stumbled across it whilst eating tea and toast after a night out at university. ‘Was it dream?’, I thought in the morning. No, and alas life has never been the same since. Careers, girlfriends, families, daughters and, more importantly, sleep, all come second to the dulcet tones of the Legendinho (Tim Vickery), and the ‘best dressed chicken in town’ (Mina Rzouki), both going all out attack and defence for their justification of their favourite styles of play.” – Bobby

“The World Football Phone-In is more than just about football.” - Richard

“This show has been part of my life since I turned it the right way around.” - Ekram

“The Phone-In has helped me through many a sleepless night Dotun. is a legend.” - Margaret

“Undoubtedly the best thing on any BBC channel, radio station or website.” - Henry

The World Football Phone-In 20th anniversary special will be live on 5 live from 1am Saturday 2 December. Watch it on the BBC Sport website or catch-up via the podcast, and get involved using #WPFI20.