Mohammad Ilyas, the enterprising Pakistan opener of the 1960s, has died in Lahore after a short illness. He was 79.
The Pakistan Cricket Board confirmed the news on Monday morning, noting in a brief statement: “The PCB is deeply saddened by the passing of Mohammad Ilyas. His contribution to the game, both on and off the field, will be remembered.”
A brisk scorer who relished the hook shot, Ilyas played ten Tests between 1964 and 1969, a lean period for Pakistan’s men’s side. Six of those appearances came against New Zealand; in Karachi in 1965 he posted his only Test century, steering Pakistan to a narrow first-innings lead. Domestically he was far more prolific, finishing with 4,607 runs at 35.71 from 82 first-class matches, alongside occasional leg-spin.
“Ilyas always batted as if tomorrow might never come,” former team-mate Majid Khan once told local media. “He had that boxer’s instinct to hit first and ask later.” Majid’s choice of words was apt. Before cricket took hold, Ilyas fancied a life in the ring and fought as a school-boy flyweight. The switch of sport came almost by chance; legend has it a teacher spotted him hurling down medium-pace in a Lahore street game and invited him to the school nets. Within weeks he had opened for Lahore Schools, making 50 as a nightwatchman in Faisalabad.
His rise through the city’s club scene was swift. Crescent Club, one of Lahore’s oldest outfits, polished his stroke-play, and at 15 he debuted in the Quaid-e-Azam Trophy for Lahore B. Majid, also on debut, stole the headlines with six wickets and a century, yet whispers about the aggressive teenager at the top of the order grew louder.
Three seasons later Ilyas was on Pakistan’s tour of Australia. He earned his Test cap at the MCG in December 1964, sharing the debut spotlight with Ian Chappell. “Facing Australia on their own turf is no small task,” Ilyas recalled in a 2015 interview. “I just told myself to play the ball, not the bowler.” He made a half-century on that trip and added another hundred against South Australia.
Selection, though, was sporadic. He toured England in 1967 and met Mike Brearley’s Cambridge side the following year, but after the 1969 home series against England his Test opportunities dried up. The final tour, to Australia and New Zealand in 1972-73, ended abruptly after an alleged altercation with Abdul Hafeez Kardar, then the game’s most powerful administrator in Pakistan. With Kardar unconvinced by Ilyas’s version of events, the opener was sent home. “You never win a bout with Kardar,” an unnamed selector said at the time.
Ilyas lingered in Sydney grade cricket, then drifted through league stints in Scotland and Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) before eventually returning to Pakistan. A solitary first-class appearance in 1975 closed his playing record with an anticlimactic duck.
Post-retirement he stayed close to the corridors of power, serving on several Pakistan selection panels in the 2000s. He rarely shied from an opinion. In fact, the press grew to expect the odd headline: whether accusing a senior batter of “not valuing his wicket” or questioning a young fast bowler’s fitness regime, Ilyas spoke his mind. Yet colleagues insist he was never vindictive. “He challenged you because he cared,” former selector Iqbal Qasim said on Monday. “But after the debate he was the first to share a cup of tea.”
Family links kept him in the modern game too. His daughter married Umar Akmal, while brother Saleem played 17 Tests between 1964 and 1969. Unsurprisingly the conversations at family gatherings tended to revolve around batting grips, rather than politics or the weather.
Away from selection meetings he mentored Lahore’s age-group sides, offering uncomplicated advice. “Watch the ball early, hit it late,” was a favourite refrain, according to one under-19 coach. Players speak warmly of those sessions, noting that he never charged a fee.
Throughout, friends still called him “John”, a nickname of uncertain origin that amused him to the end. He leaves behind his wife, two daughters and a son.
The PCB is considering a moment of silence ahead of the forthcoming Quaid-e-Azam Trophy final. It would be a fitting pause for a cricketer whose career contained both sparkle and spikiness, and whose passion for the sport never dimmed.
