One of our very best

Though he did not move like a butterfly or sting like a bee, Samad Mir brought more laurels for the country than any other boxer

SAMAD Mir is beyond doubt the best pugilist to have ever represented Pakistan. I met him after a gap of 33 years. With the exception of grey hair and a cigarette in his mouth, he hardly looked any different. He still wears the same crew cut that was his trademark in his early days. He looked as young, if not younger, and remarkably fit for a man of his age. He spoke like a true champion and soldier that he is. The thunderous volleys of well-articulated phrases convinced me that his oration was as good as his boxing.

Born to Abdullah and Sakina Mir, Samad Mir, the youngest among five brothers, was a darling of his family, especially of his mother, whom he considers his first and only true love. At the age of 10, Samad, under the tutelage of his elder brother Majeed Mir, found himself in the ring at the Griffin Institute, looking for his first win as an amateur boxer. That was the beginning of his winning streak that would end 17 years later when he decided to quit while he was still on the top. He was declared the ‘best boxer’ on his first appearance in Griffin Challenge Belt.

Griffin would witness the maestro getting into the habit of winning for the next 10 years. In the Sixties, school level boxing was dominated by the Don Bosco High School, Lahore. To its misfortune, Samad was nominated captain of the Islamia High School, Khazana Gate, in 1963. Islamia High School was not known for its boxing prowess. However, that year it won the Inter-Schools Boxing Championship, ending Don Bosco’s dominance in the sport.Samad was proud to mention that the headmaster, Sultan Mahmood, out of sheer excitement, declared the next day off in honour of the winning team.

From Islamia High School, Samad moved on to Islamia College, Railway Road, Lahore. However, his habit of winning stayed with him. He won the inter-collegiate championships for three consecutive years and was picked for Pakistan Olympics in Dhaka, where he was declared the best boxer of the tournament. By then Samad had established himself as a champion boxer and it was no surprise that he was selected to represent Pakistan in the 1968 Mexico Olympics. It was a small boxing contingent comprising two boxers, Siddique Kamrani of Karachi being the other. Chief Petty Officer of the navy, Abdul Khaliq, was the reserve player. To their misfortune, the young men would see their dream to represent Pakistan in the Olympics come to an abrupt end, just two weeks prior to their scheduled departure, thanks to a tug-of-war between the then Pakistan Boxing Federation chief and the education ministry, that governed sporting activities in the country in those days.

The Federation’s chief was denied permission to accompany the team and he announced that none of the boxers selected for the tour were fit enough and the PBF would, therefore, not send their contingent to Mexico. “The darkest moment of my boxing career,” remarked Samad.But Samad remained focused on bigger and better things. By then he had his life figured out. He knew what he wanted out of life: to be a champion boxer, a career in the army and martyrdom. He even had, with the approval of his mother, selected the names of his children to be, 10 years before he would get married.Except for Shahadat, that he still longs for, he achieved everything that he had planned for.

In 1970, he was declared the best boxer in the National Games in Karachi, and from there he was picked to represent Pakistan in the Asian Boxing Championship, to be held the same year. It was in that tournament that Samad created history and made Pakistan proud of its son. Pakistan had, prior to 1970, never won a medal in the first eight weight categories. Competition in those categories was tougher compared to the middle, light heavy and heavyweight categories: the traditional medal earning categories for Pakistani boxers. No one expected a medal in the lighter weight categories, but Samad was to prove everyone wrong. He became the first Pakistani boxer to win a gold medal. And, to top it off, he was declared the ‘Most Scientific Boxer’ of Asia; an honour never bestowed upon any Pakistani boxer to date. Following his unbelievable performance in the championship, he found himself representing Pakistan in the 9th Commonwealth Games the same year. The tournament would elevate his status from being a promising young boxer to the amateur boxing world’s favourite son. He was pitched against two of the best fighters participating in the tournament: an Olympian by the name of Philip from Kenya and Steve, who had recently won the Best African Boxer’s title. His first fight was with Steve. The Scottish press dubbed their encounter as “The Clash of the Continents”. The BBC aired their individual sparring sessions three days in a row before the scheduled bout. Such was the hype built around the bout that both the Queen and her husband witnessed the fight.About 20 seconds before the end of the second round, Samad fractured his right hand. However, that did not stop him from defeating Steve comprehensively. A 5-0 decision in his favour meant that he would be meeting Bryan Kendall of New Zealand in the next round. Steve and Samad’s bout was declared the best fight of the tournament.

Samad came out the next day all charged up, knowing well that he had only one effective hand to play out three rounds. The opponent knew it and so did the spectators — the referee and judges as well.The result was no surprise; Kendal was no match to Samad, with or without the help of his right hand. The decision was 5-0 in Samad’s favour. However, his quest for a gold medal ended there. His courage and determination could not help slow down the swelling of his hand and he found it difficult to put on the glove even without the protective bandage. He had no choice but to forfeit the next game and end up with a bronze medal.

After the Commonwealth Games Samad appeared in 6th Asian Games, which would be his last international appearance as a boxer. He won a bronze medal.“I was never a good student,” he had no qualms in admitting, “however, I was granted admission by Government College Lahore as a sportsman, despite a ban on boxing in that college.” “I would never forget the compliment I received from the then principal of Government College, Prof Ashfaq Ali Khan,” stated Samad with pride. “‘It is a privilege for this prestigious institution to have Samad in its folds.’”At Government College, Samad yearned to join the armed forces and then he got his wish. He was selected as a cadet in 1971. About 26 years later he would retire as a lieutenant-colonel

In the army his passion for boxing never left him.He was the first commissioned officer to be granted permission to represent the Army in the national games. He won the title for three consecutive years and was declared “Best Boxer of Pakistan” in 1975, when he decided to call it quits.He, however, remained active in the sport as coach for the Army and the national boxing teams, and represented Pakistan as a referee and judge in various international events.“Allah has been very kind,” Samad said solemnly, “my proteges won 107 medals in international events and as much in national events between 1988 and 1997.” “Allah also granted another wish of mine and I had a daughter and two sons, as I wanted,” he said.

Regarding his desires of becoming a boxer, a soldier and a martyr, he said: “I inherited it from my father; he was a very respected amateur wrestler in Amritsar, was active in the Pakistan movement and was appointed the Salar for the city at the time of partition to oversee the arrangements for safe passage to the Muslims travelling to Pakistan. I wanted to be a sportsman like my father and opted to box. I wanted to protect my father’s Pakistan so I became a soldier and I wanted to lay down my life for my country so I wanted Shahadat.” So what is he doing nowadays? With a wry smile, he replied: “Suffering peacefully!”

To my next question, why did he dissociate himself from the boxing affairs, he looked up and gave me a look, which said, ‘you know, so why ask?’The meeting ended awkwardly as we departed in silence. I could not help thinking on my way back that in a different world, people would have read his book, seen a movie about him, wore the T-shirt, but here he was, happy to be suffering peacefully. Maybe a favourable consideration for the Pride of Performance Award, for which he has been nominated four times, could ease some of his peaceful suffering.

Footnote: Col. Samad did receive the Medal after this article appeared in Dawn Sunday Magazine, and he passed away a few months later.