The bare facts first. On a cool Sylhet evening, Noakhali Express posted 184 for 7 and beat Dhaka by 41 runs. Nineteen-year-old Hassan Eisakhil made 92 from 60 balls on debut. His opening partner for part of the innings was his dad, Mohammad Nabi, who is 41. It was the first time a father and son have appeared together in a Bangladesh Premier League XI.
A lightly filled press room waited to see how the pair would handle their media duties. Any tension vanished inside two replies.
Is Nabi a strict parent?
“No, no,” Hassan Eisakhil said, a grin flickering across his face. “We are normal father and son. We are friends.”
Nabi lounged back, then chipped in: “I am only strict in training. No excuses,” and the room cracked up.
Selection delays and preparation
Privately, Noakhali coaches have wondered why it took four matches to hand Eisakhil a cap. After last night, that question has only grown louder. The left-hander struck seven fours and five sixes, maintained a strike-rate above 150 and, crucially, stuck around long enough to add 53 with Nabi for the fourth wicket once the Powerplay wobble set in.
“I am really happy to play with my son,” Nabi said afterwards. “I have been waiting for a long time to play together with him. I have prepared him as a professional cricketer. He performed very well on debut. We were in the same pitch together. I was telling him what was about to happen; what will the bowler do. Will he bowl fast or bowl a slower one. He was waiting for those balls, and he played really well.”
Those instructions were not improvised. Father and son spent the previous evening locked in a 90-minute throw-down, Nabi operating the side-arm stick and varying pace, line and length. “We spent 90 minutes yesterday to prepare him about the match today. I explained to him what type of bowlers he will face. I gave him a hard time with the [side-arm] stick. We worked on the pace. The way he batted out there, he shifted that knowledge into the match. There’s debut pressure for any youngster in this kind of platform. He managed it very well. He has prepared for the last 20 days for this moment, and he did really well.”
Mind-set, not milestones
Eisakhil fell in the 18th over, holing out to deep mid-wicket while trying to clear the ropes yet again. No sulks followed. “I was trying to hit sixes at that stage. I wanted to give my team a bigger total, so I am not disappointed to not be able to reach the hundred.”
That attitude reflects a broader family approach. Runs, yes, but intent first. It has left observers wondering whether the youngster consciously mirrors Nabi’s busy technique. “It is our dream that I play in the national team. That’s why I am working hard and focusing on domestic cricket. I don’t copy him. Everyone tells me this. But I bat like this naturally.”
Nabi laughed and backed him up: “It is his style. He is a natural.”
What next?
The fixture list is crowded, so Noakhali will barely have time to enjoy the moment before travelling to Chattogram. Opposition analysts now possess footage of Eisakhil, so the real test begins. For now, though, one can allow a small pause. A father retires to the dressing-room, pads off, and looks across at his son who is still catching his breath after a match-winning hand. That does not happen every day in franchise cricket, or anywhere else.
From an Afghanistan perspective, the appearance of another top-order option is handy with the T20 World Cup only a few months away. For Bangladesh’s league, the story offers a reminder that amid the noise of auctions and overseas signings, a simple narrative—dad, lad, shared stage—can still cut through.
You suspect both men will sleep well.
