It was in the early nineties that I first met the great Hashim Khan just a few metres away from a brand new squash court. Then, I was still a teenager -- a young reporter and a struggling squash player.

It was during the World Squash Championships in Karachi - till then the biggest assignment of my career as a sports journalist. Those were the last of the glory days of Pakistan squash with the legendary Khan duo of Jahangir and Jansher still leading the national team. In fact, Jahangir had come out of retirement to help Pakistan regain the world junior title.

Hashim was there, on a special invitation by the Pakistan Squash Federation (PSF), and during the brief visit managed to steal the limelight from the two JKs.

It was a short meeting but left a lasting impression. Touching 80 back then, Hashim was radiantly healthy. There was a quick Q&A in which he told me, matter-of-factly, that the secret behind the success of the Khan dynasty was "hard work, more than anything else". In the end, he offered me a firm handshake and urged me to continue supporting Pakistan squash.

That meeting also happened to be our last as I never got another chance of meeting Pakistan squash’s patriarch, who had settled in the US since the early sixties. But I’m sure that the meeting inspired me to write a book on the history of squash a few years later.

Last Tuesday, I woke up to the news that Hashim had passed away in Denver. He was believed to be 100. It brought back all those memories not just of meeting with the little, great man but also of my long association with Pakistan squash that took me to places like Zurich, London and Kuala Lumpur while I was still in my teens. It brought back memories of all the research I did for my squash book when every single person I spoke to about him seemed to be in awe of Hashim.

It wasn’t that Hashim commanded such respect because he was the most successful squash player in history. No, he wasn’t. Jahangir Khan, who won the prestigious British Open on a record ten occasions, should get that title, or perhaps, Jansher Khan -- winner of a record eight World Open crowns.

But it would be unfair to compare Hashim with these modern champions.

Hashim was in another league altogether and his is a completely different story. Both Jansher and Jansher began their careers in their early teens and had their respective families backing them. A complete nobody in the world of squash, Hashim received his first opportunity to compete abroad when he was 37. Both Jahangir and Jansher retired before reaching that age.

One can say that while Hashim invented modern squash, Jahangir and Jansher perfected it. Or maybe one can’t. Probably, Hashim, at his peak, was even better than either Jahangir or Jansher. We will never know.

One thing is for sure. Hashim overcame adversity early on to become the most successful player of his time. Hailing from a modest background, Hashim lost his father when he was only 11. As the eldest, the Peshawar-born Hashim helped his mother raise three siblings but somehow also managed to become the best squash player in the world.

I was always intrigued as to how Hashim Khan, with little coaching or other such luxuries, went on to become one of sport’s greatest success story. "Hard work" was the hint dropped by Hashim. But there had to be more to it.

I found the answer in one of Hashim’s interviews. Back in 1962, he told Sports Illustrated about how he wore down opponents.

"When opponent likes fast game, Hashim plays slow; when opponent likes slow, Hashim plays fast. Against big man, Hashim makes him stoop to floor with low shots. Against tennis player used to open court, Hashim hits ball all the time very close to wall," he said.

"Against player wearing glasses, Hashim gives many high shots, which he has difficulty seeing because of light overhead. When Hashim teaches, he emphasizes thinking."

He also spoke about the strengths of his brother Azam and nephew Mohibullah - both British Open champions.

"Azam is having best drop shot. Mohibullah has biggest variety of shot-making and hits hardest ball. Azam has most determination to win. Hashim has thinking and experience.

Years later, I saw a similar thinker in Jansher Khan, who would scheme the downfall of his toughest opponents before hitting a single shot in the court.

The lore of Hashim has so many intriguing twists. He learned the game barefooted. When he made his life-changing trip to Britain in 1951, Hashim was forced to play in oversized shoes. A short and barrel-chested man, Hashim had small feet. Before his British Open debut in London, Hashim went in search of suitable shoes but shouldn’t find any in the men’s stores. His feet were too small. So he had to buy shoes from the ladies section of a sportswear shop. He played and won the British Open wearing those shoes.

It was due to sheer luck and the generosity of air force officers in Peshawar that Hashim managed to take the flight to London in 1951.

His trip to Britain turned out to be a game-changer.

He tore through the draws of the Professional Championship of London in the posh Lansdowne Club in Mayfair where he outfoxed India’s Abdul Bari in the final. Two weeks later, Hashim raced to a title-winning triumph in the Scottish Open in Edinburgh where his opponent in the final was the tall and majestic Egyptian Mahmoud El Karim, then regarded as the best player in the world. Hashim thrashed him 9-0, 9-0, 10-8 to win the title.

A week later, Hashim outplayed the Egyptian again, this time 9-5, 9-0, 9-0 to become the new British Open champion. The squash world crowned a new king that day.

Hashim went on to win six more titles to set a world record. His last title came when he was 44! His record was only bettered by Australian legend Geoff Hunt, years later. Hunt’s feat was surpassed by the legendary Jahangir Khan who won the British Open on a record ten occasions.

After Hashim retired from the international circuit, Pakistan’s domination was stretched into the 60s by his younger brother Azam Khan, his nephew Mohibullah Sr and Roshan Khan. In the 70s, the Pakistani champions included Gogi Alauddin, Mohibullah Jr and Qamar Zaman.

Pakistan squash reached its summit when the great Jahangir Khan broke all records and especially when his era overlapped with the mighty Jansher Khan in the late eighties and early nineties. In all, the Khan dynasty won 23 British Open titles.

I stopped playing squash several years ago and also delegated the job of covering squash for this newspaper to one of our reporters. But every now and then, I somehow manage to take time out to write or comment about the sorry state of present-day Pakistan squash. Perhaps I’m trying to keep a promise that I made to the man who gave Pakistan its first ever world title.