Anil Nayar’s journey from an insecure kid to World Junior Squash Champion
By Ignatius Chithelen, author Passage from India to America*
In 1965, eighteen-year-old Anil Nayar beat United Kingdom’s Warwick Sabey three games to nil to win the Drysdale Cup, known as the World Junior Squash Championship at the time. While other Indians have since won the Drysdale Cup, Anil is the only Indian to earn the title when it was considered the world junior crown.
Anil, 73, went on to win a total of 28 national squash titles—fifteen in the U.S. including two men’s, three inter-collegiate while a student at Harvard University, and ten masters in age groups over 40; nine in India; two in Canada; and one each in Mexico and Bermuda.
Anil’s journey, from a plump, insecure kid in Mumbai, who was teasingly called Ladoo (the large round Indian sweet,) to the pinnacle of world squash, is told by his wife, Jean Nayar, a journalist, in her recently published book Lucky—Anil Nayar's Story: A Portrait of a Legendary Squash Champion.
Even if you learn on your own without paying a coach, playing squash is expensive given the court fees and the costs for rackets, shoes and balls. Those who play the game get hooked on it for their entire lives. It almost functions as a secret language among students of the top private schools and colleges in India as well as America. Access to squash is relatively more widespread in the United Kingdom, with low fees at 4,200 courts, and due to government support in Egypt and Pakistan, whose players have dominated the game.
Anil, a Hindu, whose mother was part Sikh, studied at Cathedral, a Christian high school in Mumbai, and started learning squash at ten under Yusuf Khan, a Muslim and 10-time All India champion. Anil and Jean, who divide their time between New York and Miami Beach, chatted about the book and Anil’s story.
Jean, why did you want to write a book on Anil?
Jean: After one of Anil’s childhood friends told me that many Indians see Anil as a hero, I wanted to make a record of his legacy—not only in India but also in America and other parts of the world—so that future generations of squash players could understand his accomplishments.
Squash is an under-appreciated and not-so-widely known sport, because historically it was played in elite private clubs and top universities that are inaccessible to the general public. So, writing about Anil’s career was also a way to shine a light on a challenging and beautiful sport that is now expanding across the globe and is more widely played than before. The book also gave me the opportunity to highlight many more of the game’s great players.
What was the toughest part of your writing the book, besides the technical aspects?
Jean: The story is quite personal and I am a rather private person, so openly sharing certain aspects of our lives was quite challenging for me. But Anil and I both felt it was important to present the ups and downs of his life on a very human level.
Anil, how many siblings? Did you compete with them?
Anil: Two brothers and a sister. I only competed with my middle brother Vijay, on the squash court.
Any family members who were good at sports who motivated you?
Anil: Vijay, four years older than me, was a good all-round athlete in school - a smart googly bowler in cricket, a good field hockey and soccer player, and a canny southpaw boxer. And lastly, he was a good lefty squash player. Vijay motivated me to try and be as good as he was.
Plump, insecure and teased as being a “Ladoo” (large round Indian sweet) at age 10 - did you have any ambitions then? If so, what? If not, why not?
Anil: My primary motivation for squash was to lose weight. I wanted to run and run and run off my flab. After I shed a few pounds and improved my game, I started doing well in club matches. But I was very content, just enjoying playing and having fun with fellow players, many of whom became lifelong friends.
You must have had an innate drive to win?
Anil: The innate drive started as an urge to stop being roly-poly. Subsequently, I just enjoyed playing and getting better and better. Wins and confidence beget more wins and confidence and this in turn adds fuel to the drive to do better. My ambition was not in sync with my squash play until I started doing well in tournaments and thought perhaps I could be a good junior player.
We practiced and trained as a group, ran anywhere from 2 to 10 miles each morning before school, five times a week. After school, I played intermittently due to limited court availability from 4 p.m. to 7 p.m., then went back home for family and dinner and homework until I fell asleep by 10 p.m.
We improved our game mainly by practicing on a court. That is how Yusuf Khan, my coach in Mumbai, and the other illustrious Pathans who played squash honed their skills. There was some dumbbell work in the gym, but no change in my Punjabi diet. We motivated ourselves by encouraging each other and enjoying the game.
It wasn’t until 1964, when I was 17 or 18, that I surprised myself by winning both the Junior and Men’s Western India as well as the National Championships. That’s when I thought I could be a real player!
Jean: I had a similar question when I met Anil. I didn’t see a killer instinct in him, so I wondered what qualities he had that made him a world-class champion sportsman and this question drove a lot of the research I did while writing the book. After talking to many friends and relatives as well as fellow players and professionals, I came to the conclusion that the driving force behind Anil’s success had more to do with artistry and personal expression at the highest level rather than an instinct to win at all costs.
Looks like squash was the right sport for you — why?
Anil: It was accidental and “lucky” that the sport was ideal for my physique. I was 5 feet 8 inches and 140 pounds when I won the World Junior title. People who gravitate to squash are usually very respectful of the rival player. It’s easy to hurt someone with a ball or racket especially as a beginner. I was fortunate to be hit only a few times and not too badly. Undoubtedly, in the process of play an unsaid bond develops with opponents and often that is a reflection of the kind of person he or she is. This process also enabled me to develop into the person I am now.
The appeal of a solitary game? It’s not a team sport. Why squash not cricket?
Anil: It’s not a solitary game. I have developed amazing long-lasting friendships through squash. For me in Mumbai, it started off as the easiest sport to play after a day at Cathedral School, both from a time and location perspective. The Cricket Club of India, where I started playing squash, was next door to our apartment.
Did you model your squash game after anybody?
Anil: A mixture of many players: Footwork and basic classic play from Yusuf Khan, my coach at the Cricket Club; uncomplicated planning and strategy from Jack Barnaby, my coach at Harvard University; the “feathery drop shot,” as Barnaby called it, from Hashim Khan; and the wrist action and trickery from Mohibullah Khan. Both of the latter players were from the Khan family of Pakistanis that produced numerous world champions, including the best player so far, Jahangir Khan.
Did you play anyone from the Khan family when you won the World Junior Championship in 1965?
Anil: No there was no one from the Khan family in the tournament. Sharif Khan won the title a couple of years before me.
Being your first major international championship how did you prepare mentally for the final? Was your coach from India with you?
Anil: I had no experience in gauging the competition until I arrived at the tournament in London. I took confidence from my training, hours spent running, practicing, playing hard. And I went in with the mindset that I am going in there to do my very best, play my heart out to win, play tough, play the long points if I needed to and aggressively. Especially in the beginning, I played for the long points to calm my nerves and fine tune my timing.
My coach Yusuf Khan, who was from India and distantly related to the Khans from Pakistan, remained in India during the tournament. At that time, it was hard even for top-ranked sports players to get foreign currency from the Indian government to travel abroad to compete in international tournaments. I was in London with Fali Madon, a fellow squash player from India, and A.R.V. Peermohammed, secretary of the Squash Federation of India.
What was the key to your squash wins—power, stamina, speed, spin, reflex?
Anil: Speed, power, and deception.
When down two games, and one more loss would mean you lose the match, what did you tell yourself?
Anil: Play the long point, make my opponent hit more shots in the rally and, by doing so, extract errors or loose balls, which I could put away for winners or get the advantage of in the exchange.
In a close game, on the edge of winning, how did you control your emotions to go on to win?
I concentrated on each point. I didn’t distract myself by thinking about winning the match. I balanced conservative play with aggression. It was important to go for an aggressive shot or a winner only when there was the right opportunity and the odds were in my favor.
Assume you were admitted to Harvard after winning the World Junior Championship. Did Harvard fund your education?
Anil: Yes, I went to Harvard after winning the Drysdale Cup. Harvard gave me a scholarship.
What did you study at Harvard? Why? What grade did you get?
Anil: Economics. B grade.
You became a businessman.
Anil: I imported finished home textiles from China and India into the United States. I am not in that business anymore. At present, I am brokering capital for real estate and hospitality related deals.
Anything from squash that helped in business?
Anil: I have great contacts and friends from playing squash, but there was no crossover to my business. Most of my fellow players were or are lawyers, financiers and other professionals.
Jean: The strong sense of fairness and ethics that he experienced and displayed on the squash court was something he brought to his business dealings.
You had your share of big losses. Were your errors the same or different?
Anil: Yes. Errors during the early days were from over-aggressive play, early attack, inappropriate shot selection. During my 30s and 40s, I didn’t give myself enough time to prepare because my speed of racket and speed of foot had slowed somewhat. So, my ball placements were not as accurate as before.
Did you learn more from your losses than wins? Why and what lessons?
Anil: Yes, much more from my losses. They taught me to adjust my error percentage, make sure I was mentally prepared, study how my opponent plays, and go in there to win. All these are basic match preparation plans, but it is important to keep doing this. You can’t take anything for granted.
Did you ever think of giving up squash after a big loss? How did you get back to competing?
Anil: Yes, after a couple of avoidable losses. It hurts, really hurts when you lose a big match after being up two games to love. As you get older, it hurts even more. You are just that much more vulnerable. The avoidable losses become more of a challenge to deal with. It makes you want to go back and get revenge. Revenge, the big motivator, to redeem yourself.
What was your feeling when you heard you were being inducted to the U.S. Squash Hall of Fame in 2018?
Anil: Totally exhilarated. So happy! I felt this was the best cap I could wish for in my squash career. Around 2012, it did occur to me that perhaps someone might nominate me. But I forgot about it until Jean and I came home from a trip to see a letter awaiting me from U.S. Squash. This, plus the Arjuna Award – the top Indian government prize for athletes - given to me when I was 23 years old, are the two accolades I cherish most.
It is said that squash is the second most addictive game after golf? Do you agree? If so, why is it addictive?
Anil: It’s the intensity of playing in close quarters, the enjoyment of intense exercise, the mental stimulation, the mutual respect on the court and, after the game, the camaraderie.
But with those who are both a close competitor and a friend there is an underlying tension. That’s the beauty of a one-on-one sport and squash definitely. It’s a challenge to be both a good friend and a competitor. Sometimes, this dynamic does not lead to friendship. How difficult it is in a relationship in which, on one side, you emotionally and mentally bond and, on the other side, you are planning, conniving, strategizing to beat him on the court.
Are you coaching squash players? If yes, where? If not, why not?
Anil: I coach friends these days at the University of Miami, play, and socialize. I still work out, but there are not a lot of squash players in Miami or Miami Beach.
Looking back is there anything you would have done differently about squash? About your life?
Anil: I’m very satisfied with my squash career. I have fulfilled my goals. I have had setbacks in life no different than that of many others and have pulled out of them with a combination of resilience and…luck!
Any goals still to be attained?
Anil: I try to assist a non-profit in Chandigarh called Khelshala. It has two locations where it seeks to uplift about 100 less fortunate children through squash, tennis, and education. I am involved with a school for similar children in Batala, though without an emphasis on sport. I am part of a group of passionate players who support RollingNicks, an organization in Mumbai which aims to train municipal, or city-run, school-going kids in squash. More important, the goal is to equip them to cross that daunting bridge beyond mental and physical deprivation. This is similar in some ways to the inner-city urban squash programs in New York and other American cities.
Jean: Anil and I are doing what we can to support non-profit organizations elevating the lives of poor children in India through sport, especially squash. Just as Anil was a pioneer as the first Indian to serve as captain of the Harvard squash team and win national titles in America, we’d like to do what we can to break down the class barriers that still keep people in any country, but especially India, from participating in society at the highest levels. We’d like to see a kid from India, ideally from a municipal school, become a world champion squash player.
You are a Hindu who went to a Christian school and learnt squash from a Muslim. You speak out against hatred and division? In what ways? Still doing it today?
Anil: My upbringing in Bombay was a very secular one. My classmates and I still look at each other in surprise when we hear about communal conflicts in India and especially in Bombay. We are in consensus when we say that we grew up during a beautiful time. Remember, I was a product of Mahatma Gandhi, Jawaharlal Nehru, and Rabindranath Tagore. They were big influences on me as a kid. Inclusiveness has been an essential and indelible part of my life. And I was a part of the “melting pot” in South Bombay. Even my traditional part-Hindu-part-Sikh mother got used to it!
Vijay Merchant, the famous Indian cricketer and commentator, used to say, “Fortune favors the brave.” Is this how you view your own luck?
Anil: Vijay Merchant, a legend from our past. So very right! As Jean notes in the book, some of my major wins could have easily gone to my opponent. Sometimes I prevailed thanks to perseverance; other times through a combination of perseverance and luck. If you are not in the game, the probability of winning is the same as winning a lottery.
You’ve got to take that risk, albeit a calculated one—the best from the choices in front of you. If you don’t, well, you may have lost an opportunity.
Jean & Anil Nayar will be interviewed August 13 at 5 p.m. at an event organized by the IAAC.
