An excerpt from 'The Sheriff of Squash: The Life and Times of Sharif Khan' by Rob Dinerman and Karen Khan
Sharif would ultimately win all five
of his matches with Niederhoffer during the 1975-86 season prior to
dropping a four-game inaugural Boodles British Gin Open final at the
Uptown Racquet Club on Manhattan’s upper east side in November ’76;
these two titans would wind up meeting in the finals of every
tournament they both entered between November ’74 and January ’77.
Their extended double-domination would finally be punctured not through
the exploits of some familiar North American protagonist but by the
arrival from afar of the majestic Geoffrey Hunt, who after defeating
Niederhoffer in the semis of the ’77 North American Open at the Ringe
Courts on the University of Pennsylvania campus, would challenge Sharif
in perhaps the single most historically significant match of Sharif’s
entire career.
After being out-lasted in
both the 1970 and 1972 British Open finals by Barrington (in the latter
case when exhaustion overwhelmed him to the point where, leading 7-4 in
the fifth game, he yielded the last five gut-wrenching points), Hunt
responded by making himself possibly the best conditioned athlete in
the world and by the time the 1977 North American Open arrived he was
well along in a run of British Open crowns that would not end until
1981, when Hunt would rally from a large fourth-game deficit to gain
his eighth and last British Open title. This final hurrah would break
both Barrington’s tally of six and Hashim’s putatively unapproachable
mark of seven --- a touchy subject for the Khan clan to acknowledge
even to this day --- and came at the expense of a precocious teenager
named Jahangir Khan, who the following year would begin a string of
British Open wins of his own that extended all the way through 1991.
In any event, Hunt made
an extremely swift adjustment to the North American game. He won the
William White Invitational at the Merion Cricket Club over Michael
Desaulniers in early January, then progressively picked up steam in
burying Phil Mohtadi and Clive Caldwell to reach the semis of the Open.
Niederhoffer stayed with Hunt through three games, but when Hunt eked
out the third 15-13 to go up two games to one, Victor was gone as the
fourth went swiftly to Hunt. Upon learning of Hunt’s upcoming
appearance, Sharif had immediately and uncharacteristically headed to
Denver, where under Hashim’s watchful eye he trained for several
rigorous weeks at the Denver Athletic Club (where Hashim had moved his
family from Detroit eight years earlier, in part to escape Michigan’s
harsh winters, which were hard on his wife’s health) and outdoors in
the high altitude. He accurately foresaw the threat that the superbly
proportioned Hunt represented, both within the relatively limited
framework of an individual squash match and, much more importantly, in
the global perspective within which their possibly imminent final-round
clash would be interpreted.
For in a very real sense,
and cruelly unfair though it might be, Sharif realized that he would be
defending not only his title but his entire career record as well. If
Hunt, who had never lost to Sharif in their few softball
confrontations, could now defeat him on his own turf as well, a severe
blow would be dealt both to the collective pride of the North American
squash community and to the respectability that Sharif had by this time
painstakingly accumulated during nearly an entire decade of heroic
accomplishment. His fairly brief time as the squash pro at the Skyline
Club, as noted, had come to an end seven years earlier when he had
stayed away several weeks longer than had been authorized while on
tour, and throughout the decade of the 1970’s his sole source of income
had been from tournament winnings and the exhibition matches and
clinics he had been able to schedule, which he kept track of with a
large calendar on which he would manually log the various commitments
he had made. He traveled to all parts of the U.S., Canada, Mexico and
Central America. It was important that he excel, that he entertain
(which the Barrington Circus had abundantly prepared him to do) and
that he keep winning; every exhibition, personal appearance and
endorsement was important financially.
So was his standing as the best
hardball squash player in the world, which he took into the main
exhibition court at Ringe on the afternoon of January 16, 1977, after
barely fending off a strong semifinal challenge one day earlier from an
exuberant Philadelphia-born Princeton sophomore named Tommy Page, who
had ridden the crest of several upset wins and the cheers of his
hometown supporters to lead Sharif 9-8 in the fifth game before a late
Sharif charge to 15-11. By this stage of his career, partly at Hashim’s
urging and partly as well out of the realization that his physical
skills were starting to decline as he entered his early 30’s, Sharif
had made some significant adjustments in his game and, like a
flame-throwing pitcher who later in his career is forced to develop
other pitches like curve balls, sliders and change-ups, he had gone
from the player he had been post-Barrington who relied exclusively on
overwhelming opponents with his athleticism and creating too much pace
and heat for anyone to sustain, to a more diversified game which
increasingly relied on accuracy, sharp-shooting, deception and
“holding” his swing to the last possible instant before wrist-flicking
the ball sharply in one direction or another. Nowhere did this
metamorphosis serve him better than in this match against Hunt, whose
one-sided win over Caldwell had taught Sharif the inadvisability of
matching pace with a grinder of Hunt’s awesome stature and made him
realize that what he needed to do instead was constantly vary the pace,
judiciously mixing drop shots, three-walls and lobs with pace and
power, while occasionally as well throwing in angles, including on his
serve, to which Hunt had heretofore never been exposed, while still
relentlessly continuing to attack, attack, attack and keep Hunt in
retriever mode rather than allow him to carry the play.
This ingenious stratagem
and its careful, expert and continuous application (even after losing
the second game) brought Sharif to a two games to one lead and
advantages of 13-4 and later 14-8 in the fourth game. Here, though,
pride and perhaps a bit of stubbornness interfered with what had been
an extremely successful game plan as, with the victory in hand, Sharif
was determined to close out his masterpiece with a memorable flourish,
to cap off this dynamic performance with a final calling-card shot ---
a perfect roll-out-of-the-nick backhand three-wall --- that spectators
would be recounting for years to come. He zealously pursued this goal
even as the lead started to dwindle away in the face of Hunt’s stout
retrieving, with point after point landing in Hunt’s column as the
sought-after nick refused to come. Suddenly it was 13-14, the
now-perilous nature of the moment apparent to everyone crammed into the
arena. A brief and savage exchange, another Khan backhand three-wall,
and victory at last, as this one rolled unplayably at the Australian
superstar’s feet.
Hunt, who would never
play in this tournament again, would however return to North America
several years later and in fact manage to defeat Sharif in the
round-robin Mennen Cup competitions in Toronto in both 1979 (though by
the time they played in the last match of the weekend Sharif had
already clinched this title based on accumulated points) and 1980 in
the final. He is a thoroughbred of the highest order, whose record in
the international game is fully as praiseworthy as Sharif’s is in North
America, and an impeccable sportsman who not only dominated but
revolutionized his sport while gaining distinction as a coach as well.
His bid for the 1977 North American Open will always be remembered for
Sharif’s tactical acumen, for Hunt’s riveting eleventh-hour charge and
for that dramatic nick which finally determined the outcome.