Then I dont know why ppl on the Indian side could not be as good as on the Pakistani side.
I personally think Jahangir's good performance made him a role model and invited many youngsters to the game.
I agree with that. The Khan dynasty including Jahangirare a real source of inspiration to all young Pakistani squash players. They have proven to the world that players from meagre backgrounds can win anything with dedication and hardwork. This is an article on the "father" of the dynasty, Hashim Khan. Jahangirs uncle.
93-Year-Old Patriarch Of Squash Dynasty
By Pat Graham, AP Sports Writer
DENVER (AP) ―
Hashim Khan hobbled into the Denver Athletic Club and parked himself on a bleacher behind the glass wall of the squash court.
The diminutive 93-year-old Pakistani folded his arms across his pot belly and watched two players rallying back and forth, his eyes examining their technique and footwork.
"All my life, that's what I've wanted to do -- hit that ball," said Khan, who's regarded as one of the all-time greats.
Khan recently took a tumble on the court, fracturing his hip and straining his rotator cuff. Doctors have said no more squash.
But he refuses to listen.
Khan can't bring himself to lay down his racket -- he simply loves the game too much.
And squash -- a game similar to racquetball -- has given him so much in return. He's explored the world, found fame by
winning seven British Open squash titles and become a national hero in his homeland of Pakistan, where a small railway station even bears his name.
He also started a stretch during which a member of his family won 13 straight British Open championships, considered the most prestigious squash tournament. His brother, Azam Khan, added four titles, while his cousin, Roshan Khan, and nephew, Mohibullah Khan, each captured one.
Throw in his cousin's son, Jahangir Khan, who dominated the 1980s by winning 10 straight titles, and the
Khan Dynasty accounted for 23 British Open titles.
Hashim Khan beamed at the mention of his family's superiority in squash. He was the patriarch who got the ball rolling on Pakistan's supremacy.
"Even now, Hashim still is probably the most famous squash player in the world," said James Zug, author of "Squash: A History of the Game" and a senior writer at Squash Magazine. "It's the same way that Muhammad Ali is the most famous boxer or Michael Jordan the most famous basketball player -- and they haven't done anything in years. He was far and away the world's first squash celebrity."
Khan was exposed to squash through his father, Abdullah, a chief steward at a British officer's club in Peshawar, a region of India that later became part of Pakistan. Hashim Khan used to show up at the outdoor courts and watch the officers play, fetching balls when they flew out through the open ceiling. He earned one dollar a month for his efforts.
"I thought I was rich," Khan said.
When the sweltering sun drove the officers inside the club, Khan walked onto the court and emulated their shots. H
e taught himself the game in the stifling heat, with no shoes, a cracked racket and a broken squash ball.
Khan's father died in a car accident when he was 11, and he dropped out of school to become a full-time ball boy for the sake of the family. He honed his skills playing the officers in friendly games. Eventually, he became one of the club's squash coaches.
He was content.
But then one day a professional player from Bombay showed up at the club, looking for a game. Khan said he'd play him, but the pro just laughed.
That angered Khan, who told the visiting pro he would start at minus-50 in a race to nine points. The pro eagerly agreed. Khan easily dispatched him, 9-7.
The pro went home bragging about the play of this unknown player, opening the door for Khan to become an international star.
Khan was invited to participate in the All-of-India tournament in Bombay in 1944. He ended up winning three straight titles, despite being in his 30s, an age when most players contemplate retirement. He would've continued his domination, but his invitation was revoked.
Pakistan and India became sovereign states in 1947 -- earning freedom from colonial rule -- and since Khan was Pakistani, it voided his eligibility for the tournament. So he went back to the friendly games at the club.
Four years later, at the age of 37, the Pakistan government, eager for a national hero, sent him to the British Open tournament in London.
He didn't disappoint.
No one gave the 5-foot-5, slightly potbellied Khan a chance against Mahmoud El Karim of Egypt.
But Khan shocked the squash world by trouncing Karim, 9-5, 9-0, 9-0, ending the Egyptian's string of four straight crowns.
Khan would go on to win six more tournaments, including his last at 44.
"What he did back then, it's impossible for that to happen now," Zug said.
"An unknown showing up at the biggest tournament and winning at an age when most players retire? It's incredible. Can you imagine how good he would've been in his prime?"
His son, Mo Khan, has a pretty good notion.
"He would've been like a young Andre Agassi, dominating the game," Mo Khan said.
Hashim Khan is viewed as one of the best to ever hold a squash racket, an honor he no doubt shares with Jahangir Khan, who once won more than 500 straight matches. The list wouldn't be complete without Azam Khan, Karim, Egypt's F.D. Amr Bey, Jonah Barrington of Great Britain and Ireland, Australia's Geoff Hunt and Pakistan's Jansher Khan (no relation).
Yet no one dominated at such a late age as Hashim Khan. He also won three U.S. Open hardball tournaments, including his last at 49.
"In any other sport, you can argue and argue about who's the best player ever. With squash, it's pretty clear -- it's Hashim," said John Lesko, the squash pro at the Denver Athletic Club. "Hashim is the Babe Ruth of squash, right down to his little pot belly that he's had most of his career."
Josh Easdon, a teaching pro in New York, was so fascinated by Khan's tale that he started making a documentary film about his life. He's spent more than four years on the project and shot 120 hours of footage.
"Hashim is that wise man on the mountain top, in terms of squash," Easdon said. "I wanted to get to know this wonderful squash player beyond the four walls of the court."
Easdon and Beth Rasin, the film's producer, traveled through Pakistan with Khan in 2005, and were amazed at his popularity.
"We were in Islamabad and this man came running up to us and said, 'It's Hashim Khan! He's one of our greatest heroes,"' Rasin said. "He still generates so much excitement."
It's been a heartbreaking past few months for Khan, who recently lost his daughter, and then his wife of 65 years, both to diabetes. He and his wife raised 12 children together, most of whom are now scattered throughout North America.
"She was the backbone of our family, allowing our dad to travel around the world," Mo Khan said.
When the siblings get together for reunions, they play -- what else? -- squash. Sharif Khan, who lives near Toronto, was the best of the bunch, winning 12 North American Open titles.
"My brother was amazing," Mo Khan said. "He'd win with ease -- just like my father."
Mo Khan doesn't recall ever beating his dad in a match.
"It was just an honor to be on the court with him," he said. "He taught us so much. I remember losing in a big tournament. He came into the locker room and said, 'It's just a game. You gave it your best. Now, let's go get a burger.' That's my dad -- he always wants to go get a burger."
Khan brought his family to the U.S. in the early 1960s after being offered a lucrative deal to teach squash at the Uptown Athletic Club in Detroit.
He left to take a pro position at the Denver Athletic Club in the early '70s out of health concerns for his wife, who suffered from rheumatoid arthritis. He thought Denver's arid climate would be better for her.
Khan's arrival in the Mile High City revitalized the club. The squash membership soared from 45 to 400 players.
"Everyone wanted a lesson from Hashim," DAC member Bob Weight said. "I've made sure all my grandkids have had a picture taken with Hashim. He's a legend."
Diehl Mateer, a two-time U.S. Open champion as an amateur in the 1950s, certainly won't argue.
"He was a remarkably gifted player -- and I saw him late in his career," Mateer said.
A fractured hip hasn't slowed Khan. He's still a fixture at the DAC, where he'll show up to watch players smack around the ball for a while, and then retire into the Hashim Khan Trophy Room, a former squash court converted by club members into a shrine to him.
There's mementos of his career scattered all over the room -- things like trophies, framed articles calling him the "Squash Wizard" and a proclamation from Denver Mayor John Hickenlooper making July 1 "Hashim Khan Day."
"He brought in all his trophies and medals in a cardboard box," Lesko said. "He had them sitting in his basement. This room is the least we could do."
Khan sauntered around his trophy room, glancing at his artifacts. His gaze locked on a picture -- a younger version of himself, effortlessly lunging for a ball with his racket.
He looked away and hobbled out of his trophy room on his ailing hip.
Khan sat on a bleacher and watched a match on the DAC championship court named after him.
"I want to play again," Khan said, tears forming in his eyes. "I want to be on that court, hitting that ball. I was pretty good once."
Pretty good?
Try one of the best.
