The Crossbill Sports Desk
A rare cross-border appeal from some of cricket’s most celebrated names has drawn attention not only to the fate of former Pakistan Prime Minister and World Cup-winning captain Imran Khan, but also to a shared sporting past that once transcended political fault lines between India and Pakistan.
Fourteen former Test captains, including India’s Sunil Gavaskar and Kapil Dev, have signed a letter urging the Pakistan government to ensure that Imran Khan Niazi is treated humanely in prison. The appeal does not engage with the political controversies surrounding Khan’s incarceration. Instead, it frames the request in the language of sporting fraternity and mutual respect forged on the cricket field.
“I have seen him since he was 17,” said Sunil Gavaskar after adding his name to the signatories who have requested the Pakistani government to treat their fellow cricket great Imran Khan with dignity.
Languishing in jail for two-and-a-half years, the champion all-rounder is a victim of his country’s unforgiving politics, a system he once mastered, manipulated and helped harden as leader of the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf and then as Prime Minister.
But the appeal steers clear of politics. It, instead, speaks the language of fraternity that binds those who have shared the arena. It’s about a code that’s elemental to athletes – play tough, argue occasionally, even sledge, but respect and learn from the other side.
The gesture comes at a time when relations between India and Pakistan remain strained and cricketing ties are virtually frozen. That two of India’s greatest cricketers would join a collective appeal concerning a former Pakistani leader is being viewed in some quarters as a reminder of an older ethos — one in which rivalry was intense but not stripped of camaraderie.
Gavaskar and Kapil Dev were contemporaries of Imran Khan during an era when players from the subcontinent often interacted closely off the field. They shared dressing rooms, meals and long tours abroad, even during periods of diplomatic hostility. In 1971, as India and Pakistan were at war, players from both countries were part of a Rest of the World XI assembled by West Indian legend Gary Sobers in Australia. Gavaskar later recalled that “there was no tension at all between the Indians and Pakistani players despite what was happening”.
The Gavaskar–Imran rivalry, in particular, became emblematic of cricket’s capacity to blend competitiveness with admiration. During the 1982-83 series, when his team was outplayed by Pakistan under Imran’s captaincy, Gavaskar was asked at a press conference about the best way to play the fast bowler at the peak of his powers. The Indian captain reportedly replied: “From the sight screen”.
Imran, who had evolved from a promising medium pacer into one of the most feared fast bowlers of his generation, commanded respect even from opponents he dismissed. In his autobiography written just after the 82-83 series, Khan writes that the Indian captain was always difficult to dismiss.
Five years later, in what would be Gavaskar’s final Test series, Imran witnessed what he described as one of the finest innings he had ever seen. On a treacherous Bangalore pitch, Gavaskar battled for five-and-a-half hours in the fourth innings to score 96, an effort remembered as one of the great rearguard knocks in Indian cricket.
Their competitive bond extended beyond the field. Much later, Gavaskar recalled telling Khan that he planned to retire after the 1986 series against England.
But the Pakistani great threw him a challenge: “You can’t retire now. Pakistan is coming to India next year, and I want to beat India in India. If you aren’t part of that team, it won’t be the same. Come on, let’s have one last tilt against each other.”
Against this backdrop, the present appeal acquires added meaning. It is not framed as a diplomatic intervention but as a call grounded in sporting values.
“As fellow cricketers who understand the values of fair play, honour, and respect that transcend the boundary rope, we believe that a person of Imran Khan’s stature deserves to be treated with the dignity and basic human consideration befitting a former national leader and a global sporting icon,” reads the letter.
Observers note that such a collective expression from Indian cricketers is unusual in today’s tightly managed sporting environment, where public statements often carry political overtones.
The spontaneous nature of the appeal, reportedly endorsed quickly by former players, has been seen as a throwback to a time when cricket served as an informal bridge between the two neighbours.
While few expect the letter alone to alter Khan’s circumstances, it has reignited discussion about the broader role of sport in maintaining people-to-people connections during periods of political strain.
Cricket once played a visible role in India-Pakistan diplomacy. Though that chapter appears distant today, former players suggest that shared experiences on the field create reservoirs of goodwill that outlast immediate tensions.
In that sense, the one-page letter does more than request humane treatment for a jailed former cricketer. It recalls an era when fierce rivals could still acknowledge each other’s greatness, and when sport, at its best, offered a language capable of rising above hardened borders.
Fourteen former Test captains, including India’s Sunil Gavaskar and Kapil Dev, have signed a letter urging the Pakistan government to ensure that Imran Khan Niazi is treated humanely in prison. The appeal does not engage with the political controversies surrounding Khan’s incarceration. Instead, it frames the request in the language of sporting fraternity and mutual respect forged on the cricket field.
“I have seen him since he was 17,” said Sunil Gavaskar after adding his name to the signatories who have requested the Pakistani government to treat their fellow cricket great Imran Khan with dignity.
Languishing in jail for two-and-a-half years, the champion all-rounder is a victim of his country’s unforgiving politics, a system he once mastered, manipulated and helped harden as leader of the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf and then as Prime Minister.
But the appeal steers clear of politics. It, instead, speaks the language of fraternity that binds those who have shared the arena. It’s about a code that’s elemental to athletes – play tough, argue occasionally, even sledge, but respect and learn from the other side.
The gesture comes at a time when relations between India and Pakistan remain strained and cricketing ties are virtually frozen. That two of India’s greatest cricketers would join a collective appeal concerning a former Pakistani leader is being viewed in some quarters as a reminder of an older ethos — one in which rivalry was intense but not stripped of camaraderie.
Gavaskar and Kapil Dev were contemporaries of Imran Khan during an era when players from the subcontinent often interacted closely off the field. They shared dressing rooms, meals and long tours abroad, even during periods of diplomatic hostility. In 1971, as India and Pakistan were at war, players from both countries were part of a Rest of the World XI assembled by West Indian legend Gary Sobers in Australia. Gavaskar later recalled that “there was no tension at all between the Indians and Pakistani players despite what was happening”.
The Gavaskar–Imran rivalry, in particular, became emblematic of cricket’s capacity to blend competitiveness with admiration. During the 1982-83 series, when his team was outplayed by Pakistan under Imran’s captaincy, Gavaskar was asked at a press conference about the best way to play the fast bowler at the peak of his powers. The Indian captain reportedly replied: “From the sight screen”.
Imran, who had evolved from a promising medium pacer into one of the most feared fast bowlers of his generation, commanded respect even from opponents he dismissed. In his autobiography written just after the 82-83 series, Khan writes that the Indian captain was always difficult to dismiss.
Five years later, in what would be Gavaskar’s final Test series, Imran witnessed what he described as one of the finest innings he had ever seen. On a treacherous Bangalore pitch, Gavaskar battled for five-and-a-half hours in the fourth innings to score 96, an effort remembered as one of the great rearguard knocks in Indian cricket.
Their competitive bond extended beyond the field. Much later, Gavaskar recalled telling Khan that he planned to retire after the 1986 series against England.
But the Pakistani great threw him a challenge: “You can’t retire now. Pakistan is coming to India next year, and I want to beat India in India. If you aren’t part of that team, it won’t be the same. Come on, let’s have one last tilt against each other.”
Against this backdrop, the present appeal acquires added meaning. It is not framed as a diplomatic intervention but as a call grounded in sporting values.
“As fellow cricketers who understand the values of fair play, honour, and respect that transcend the boundary rope, we believe that a person of Imran Khan’s stature deserves to be treated with the dignity and basic human consideration befitting a former national leader and a global sporting icon,” reads the letter.
Observers note that such a collective expression from Indian cricketers is unusual in today’s tightly managed sporting environment, where public statements often carry political overtones.
The spontaneous nature of the appeal, reportedly endorsed quickly by former players, has been seen as a throwback to a time when cricket served as an informal bridge between the two neighbours.
While few expect the letter alone to alter Khan’s circumstances, it has reignited discussion about the broader role of sport in maintaining people-to-people connections during periods of political strain.
Cricket once played a visible role in India-Pakistan diplomacy. Though that chapter appears distant today, former players suggest that shared experiences on the field create reservoirs of goodwill that outlast immediate tensions.
In that sense, the one-page letter does more than request humane treatment for a jailed former cricketer. It recalls an era when fierce rivals could still acknowledge each other’s greatness, and when sport, at its best, offered a language capable of rising above hardened borders.
Comments (0)
Leave a Comment