In the annals of cricket, few players have embodied the duality of elegance and enigma as profoundly as Majid Khan. A batsman of sublime artistry, he was a paradox—capable of producing innings of breathtaking brilliance, yet often frustratingly inconsistent. His career, spanning the 1960s to the early 1980s, was a tapestry of fleeting genius, punctuated by moments of cricketing royalty that left spectators and critics alike in awe. Majid Khan was not just a cricketer; he was a spectacle, a man who played the game with a regal nonchalance that made him a joy to behold, even when the runs did not flow.
The Aesthetic of Majestic Batting
Majid
Khan’s batting was a study in contrasts. On his day, he was the embodiment of
cricketing elegance—a batsman whose strokes seemed to defy the laws of physics.
His footwork was nimble, his timing impeccable, and his ability to caress the
ball through the gaps was nothing short of poetic. From the pristine whites of
his attire to the flashy spotlessness of his boots, he looked every bit the
ideal cricketer. Yet, for all his grace, there was an unpredictability to his
game. Majid could follow a century of the highest order with a string of low
scores, leaving fans yearning for more of his crisp, fluent strokes that rolled
across the turf like fine wine on the palette.
His innings
were not just about runs; they were about style. Whether it was the
logic-defying double century for Punjab University against Karachi, the
61-minute century against Glamorgan at Cardiff, or the two contrasting tons
against the West Indies in Karachi and Georgetown, Majid’s batting was a blend
of artistry and audacity. His 112 against Richard Hadlee, Richard Collinge, and
Lance Cairns, where he reached his century before lunch on the first day of a
Test match, was a feat reminiscent of the great Don Bradman. It was an innings
that transcended mere statistics, a reminder of the sheer majesty of his
talent.
The Cricketing Pedigree
Majid
Khan’s cricketing lineage was nothing short of illustrious. Born into a family
steeped in the game, he was destined for greatness. His father, Jahangir Khan,
was a pace bowler of repute who had represented India in their inaugural Test
match in 1932. Jahangir’s claim to fame was not just his bowling but also the apocryphal
tale of having killed a sparrow in flight with a delivery during a match at
Lord’s. Majid’s elder brother, Asad, was an Oxford Blue, while his cousin Javed
Burki captained Pakistan. Another cousin, Imran Khan, would go on to become one
of Pakistan’s most iconic cricketers. This rich cricketing heritage shaped
Majid, instilling in him a love for the game that was as much about joy as it
was about excellence.
The Making of a Cricketer
Majid’s
journey to cricketing prominence was marked by early struggles and eventual
triumphs. Considered too small to make the cricket team at St. Anthony’s School
in Lahore, he found his calling at Aitchison College, the alma mater of the
senior Nawab of Pataudi. By the age of 13, he had made the first eleven, and
his First-Class debut for Lahore against Khairpur Division was nothing short of
spectacular—an unbeaten 111 and six wickets with his fast bowling. This dual
ability with bat and ball would define his early career, though it was his
batting that would eventually take precedence.
His Test
debut against Australia in 1964, just days after turning 18, was underwhelming
with the bat but notable for his bowling. Opening the attack, he dismissed Bill
Lawry in his second over, a feat he repeated in the second innings. However,
questions about the legality of his bouncer led him to refine his action, and
over time, he transitioned from a bowling all-rounder to a specialist batsman.
By 1967, he was being tried as an opener, a role that would come to define his
career.
The Glamorgan Years: A Legacy of Elegance
Majid’s
association with Glamorgan in the late 1960s and early 1970s was the stuff of
legend. His arrival in 1968 transformed the county, lifting them from the
depths of the table to third place. His batting was described by Wisden as
“sheer magic,” a phrase that became almost clichéd in its accuracy. Majid’s
1,258 runs that season were a testament to his ability to dominate attacks with
a blend of grace and power. His 147 not out against Glamorgan at Swansea,
scored in just 89 minutes with 13 sixes, remains one of the most explosive innings
in county cricket history.
The 1969
season was particularly memorable. Majid’s batting was instrumental in
Glamorgan’s first championship win since 1948. His 156 against Worcestershire
on a difficult Cardiff wicket was a masterclass in adaptability and skill. By
the time Glamorgan clinched the title, the chants of “Majid… Majid… Majid”
echoed through the stadiums, a fitting tribute to a man who had become the
heart and soul of the team.
The Test Arena: Moments of Brilliance
Majid’s
Test career was a reflection of his broader cricketing journey—moments of
brilliance interspersed with periods of frustration. His first Test century, a
steady 158 against Australia at Melbourne in 1973, came in his 14th Test and
marked the beginning of his ascent as a reliable top-order batsman. His
performances in New Zealand later that year, including twin scores of 79 at
Wellington and a century at Auckland, solidified his position at the top of the
order.
Yet, it was
in the West Indies in 1977 that Majid produced his most glorious series.
Against a fearsome attack comprising Andy Roberts, Colin Croft, Vanburn Holder,
and Joel Garner, he batted with a casual elegance that belied the ferocity of
the opposition. His 167 at Guyana, a six-hour vigil that saved the Test, was a
masterpiece of resilience and technique. Even as his partner, Sadiq Mohammad,
was struck on the jaw by Roberts, Majid remained unflappable, his batting a
blend of positivity and composure.
The Twilight Years: A Fading Star
By the late
1970s, Majid’s form began to wane. The 1979 tour of India was particularly
disappointing, as he struggled against the likes of Kapil Dev and Karsan
Ghavri. Though he managed a couple of centuries against Australia in 1980, the
emergence of younger talents made it difficult for him to retain his place in
the side. His final Test, against India at Lahore in 1982, ended with a duck, a
sad coda to a career that had promised so much.
The Legacy of Majid Khan
Majid
Khan’s career statistics—3,931 runs at 38.92 in Tests and 786 runs at 37.42 in
ODIs—do not fully capture the essence of his contribution to cricket. He was a
batsman who played the game with an infectious joy, a man who could
light up a stadium with his mere presence. His batting was a blend of style and
substance, a reminder that cricket is as much an art as it is a sport.
In an era
devoid of helmets, Majid faced the fastest bowlers with a casual detachment and
languid grace that few could match. When he got going, it was worth the wait,
even if those moments were fleeting. As one Welsh fan aptly put it, “I’d pay
five bob just to see this chap take guard!” Indeed, Majid Khan was a joy to
behold, a cricketer who played the game not just to win, but to enchant. His
legacy is not just in the runs he scored or the matches he won, but in the
memories he created—a reminder that cricket, at its best, is a celebration of
beauty and brilliance.
Thank You
Faisal Caesar
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