The Gentleman Cricketer

As the World Cup draws nearer, cricket nations will be gripped by cricket fever. Sadly, the conversations about cricket will also drift into the indignities of throwing, sledging, dope testing and match fixing, a turn-off for purists who hark back to an era when cricket was really cricket. Played mostly by gentlemen, it was a reflection on how a civilised society should be structured. The game was about reading the pitch correctly, the elegance of strokes, the beauty of bowling actions and the mysterious art of captaincy. Cricket was not just a game you played; it was ‘worship in the summer sun’.

En route to meeting my childhood hero, I was overwhelmed with elation, anxiety, nostalgia and anecdotes from days gone by. Many of us have spent our childhood wearing a floppy hat, taking guard, arguing with teammates to stand in first slip and sit on toes between overs – just like he did. He had substance as well as style, like a perfect romantic hero finding his way into reality.

No other cricketer comes to mind who made his First-Class debut with a greater impact. Playing for Lahore against Khairpur, he scored 111 not out and claimed six for 67. On the 1967 tour of England, he hit Roger Davis for five sixes in an over, in an innings of 147 not out, which included 13 sixes. The tormented county hurriedly signed him for the next eight seasons. His great father had resisted coaching his own son, but always encouraged him to enjoy the game. He did exactly that – enjoyed his cricket and made those who watched take pleasure. He rarely made big runs on flat wickets or against bad bowling; and he never cared about averages or records. Wisden wrote, “It became almost an inexcusable cliché to describe his batting as sheer magic, but so often it was exactly that”.

He was always modest about his appeal to the opposite sex

With a fair complexion, thick black hair, dark piecing eyes and features as if moulded from granite, he had the kind of face that made you pause mid-sentence. I guess he must have got used to that as it is still followed by a compensating nonchalant gaze and an innocent smile. I could imagine that it did not help much, even if he was always modest about his appeal to the opposite sex. It was a great delight to see Majid Khan walk down from the pavilion in his white flannels and buttoned sleeves, wearing a floppy hat and taking guard at the crease. Benazir Bhutto and Twiggy were among his admirers. Despite all the opportunities, he was a one-woman-man who prized genuineness, good books and thoughtful conversations above more seemingly glamorous pursuits.

I came round as I reached his house and heard that distinctive deep voice, “Welcome doctor sahib. Did you find your way all right?”

As we sat in the huge lawn fronting his colonial lodge, I tried to explain rather unsuccessfully why I had come to see him. Guessing that I was on a sticky wicket, he started talking about life, politics and religion and how they interconnect in more ways than people imagine. He reflected upon the increasing lack of respect for these institutions in our national life, resulting in deteriorating public standards and eroding human values, and I gradually realised that he had played himself in and that the conversation was getting away from me, so I tried some desperate bouncers in an attempt to wrest control. “No, he is not a great bowler in my book” he said, waving towards one of the houses opposite (of his cousin, Imran Khan), “He was a good in-swing blower (who never take many wickets) who got lucky. But I have respect for his determination, hard work and achievements”. I decided not to dwell on Imran Khan’s ‘luck’ because Majid Khan was the greatest exponent of the hook shot in the helmet-less days of the game.

Majid Khan was a Pakistan & Glamorgan captain who played 63 Tests scoring 3931 (8 centuries) runs, 23 One Day Internationals (ODIs) scoring 786 runs and scored 27444 first-class runs (73 centuries) between 1961-1985. His father, Jahangir Khan, who played for undivided India, is famous for killing a sparrow while bowling at the Lords in 1936. As a matter of principle, he stepped down as chief selector when Majid came up for national team selection. Majid is one of the few batsmen in test cricket history who scored a century before lunch. He also scored a century in 70 minutes against Warwickshire. These feats were unimaginable in cricket in those days. He was the first batsman to score a century for Pakistan in the ODIs. One of the highlights of his career was the 1976–77 tour of West Indies where he scored 530 test runs against the most powerful fast bowling attack (Roberts, Holding, Croft, Garner) in history including a brilliant innings of 167 at Georgetown, which saved Pakistan from certain defeat.

Cricket is unlike others sports because it has something called the spirit of cricket, which cannot de defined. Majid was a fair cricketer and a rare batsman in that era who is known to ‘walk’. If he knew he was out, he would walk before the umpire gave him out. He was known for facing the fastest of bowlers with casual indifference and ‘effortless ease’, scoring centuries for fun – sometimes, just to win extra cones of ice cream from his captain. He lost his cool only on a couple of occasions. Plying for Glamorgan, he was once so annoyed by his dismissal against Derbyshire that he asked the groundsman for a saw and did not rest until his bat lay in pieces on the dressing room floor. I was in Lahore in 1978, when Pakistan chased victory against India on the penultimate afternoon of the Test match. The atmosphere was quite tense when Majid Khan opened the innings. Kapil Dev kept bowling down the leg side and the umpire failed to spot two successive wide balls. Majid lost it after the next ball; uprooted the leg stump, placed it two yards wider and motioned Kapil to bowl within the stumps now.

Majid played my incessant questioning about whom he considered the greatest batsman or bowler ever, with a straight bat. He believes that it is unfair to compare great players of one era with another. He also held that Tendulkar and Lara are very different players, both equally great. Similarly, he rates Lillee, Roberts and Holding at par among great fast bowlers along with Wasim Akram. The best off-spinner he ever came across was Ijaz Khan, one of his cousins, who never played for Pakistan. I did not ask how he rated himself. Dickie Bird wrote that he asked one of the best English groundsmen, Cyril Coote, who he considered the best batsman he had seen play. Coote answered without hesitation, ‘Majid Khan was the best for me’. Dickie considers that a huge compliment because the veteran groundsman had observed Peter May and Ted Dexter among other greats & Dickie himself thinks of Peter May as the best English batsman ever. Bishan Bedi, the master Indian spinner, considered Majid to be the best bad-wicket player in the world, who played the turning ball truly and instinctively.

At Derbyshire in June 1969, on a broken wicket where the ball stopped, turned and flew unpredictably, Majid scored 156. This was described by the commentators as one of the greatest innings the world has ever seen. He had stood there, reportedly, like a figurine but performed like a highly skilled surgeon – cutting, pulling, chopping and hooking, ‘…the balls that passed his bat were only those he left’. Majid also put the lethal duo of Lillee & Thompson to the sword and was responsible for teaching Ian Chappell’s legendary team a cricket lesson during the 1972-1973 tour of Australia.

Early morning dew had helped the English bowlers reduce Gymkhana to 33 for 6

In 1996-97, the touring England team played a one-day practice match versus Lahore Gymkhana. Early morning dew had helped the English bowlers reduce Gymkhana to 33 for 6 when a 51 years old Majid Khan came to the crease. He gave a master class to the stunned England players and journalists. Majid made 51 not out which included a six over the bowler’s head. Perhaps there is merit when he says, ‘You don’t need any footwork in batting, just hands and eye’. ‘How did you lose it in the end?’ I asked. ‘Contrary to the broken-jaw by Roberts leading to loss of timing theory, it was due to leaving county cricket and increasing age’ he concluded.

Majid Khan is a quiet, candid and uncomplicated person. To some, he may appear too firm and concrete in his thinking & behaviour. Such people are not usually tolerated as leaders of teams and organizations, especially in Pakistan. Never compromising on principles, he managed to do reasonably well in his stints as captain of different cricket teams and as an administrator of the Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB).

Majid’s whole life epitomizes someone who ‘…does not play cricket because it is a good game, but because it creates good citizens’. Toni Lewis, the cricket legend, reportedly said recently, ‘If Majid was an Englishman, his name would have been taken in the same breath as that of Bradman and if he was Welsh, we could have declared independence and made him our King’. On his part, Majid Khan would be as content if he is allowed to leave behind an honourable name for his children!

** The writer is a consultant psychiatrist & senior research fellow in London