If you go in any house within Baghdad theres a 1 in 7 chance you'll find merchandise pertaining to the Baghdad Kings, go into an house in the Khadimiya district where the Ballpark of Baghdad is situated and those odds would drop to 1 in 3. Go to Adhamiya Street just a home run away from the ballpark and the odds drop to every house will have merchandise. Unlike other houses though the houses on Adhamiya Street will all have one thing in common, a signed photo and baseball from Habib Tahir.
Who may you ask is Habib Tamir, ask anyone outside Adhamiya Street and more than likely you'll get a puzzled look or the odd person will know his name. Say the name Habib Tamir on Adhamiya Street, you'll not get a puzzled look nor will one or two know his name, you'll get a warm handshake and more than likely be invited into their house for food and drink and to talk about Habib Tamir. You see everybody on the street knows who Habib is, every man, woman and child not only knows him, not only as met him but he's been in all of their houses not only to talk baseball but for food and drink and even sleep.
He once said "it takes me a few hours to fly from Shangai to Baghdad, about an hour or two depending on traffic from the airport to my home, however it can take me a day or two to get from the end of my street to my home. It actually took me four days when I got back after my first season for the Catbirds".
I met Habib in late 39 after the Far East Baseball League had wrapped up for the winter, it was my first assignment after getting a job with the UMEBA Monthly. I'd got in a taxi at the airport and when the driver asked me my destination I'd only got half way through Adhamiya Street when he replied, "You going to meet Habib, will you be signing him?" Before I replied he'd spotted my notebook on my lap, "aah you interviewing him?
"Yes I'm doing a piece on him, do you know Habib? Have you seen him play? "I have seen him play many times, for his school, college and watched him many times on television playing for Shanghai. He has been in my taxi many times, my sister lives in the same street his parents live and where Habib was born. I tell my sister if Habib needs a taxi I will drive him no matter where or what time". I take it your a fan then? "Fan? No I am like many who have met Habib, he is a son, he is a son or brother to everyone in Adhamiya Street, or anyone who knows him, we are more than fans he is more than a player to us all".
The closer we got to Adhamiya Street the more you realised how much this player meant to the people, at first it was a couple of signs saying buy such a thing because Habib Tahir uses it, then it would say Habib uses it, when we got to a couple of streets from Adhamiya Street it was just a picture of Habib there were 100s of signs selling everything this guy must have been rolling in it (I later found out it wasn't the case).
We arrived at Habib's house, I went to pay the fare only to be rebuffed by a shake of the hands by Amjad my driver "No, a friend of Habib's is a friend of mine. Also he gives things to my sister that is far more than your fare, here is my number you call me anytime and I will take you back to the airport. Tell Habib it was a good season he had, goodbye Mr McMullen".
I was puzzled by what Amjad meant, I knew Habib wasn't married, maybe Amjads sister and Habib were an item only time would tell.
The door to the Tahir's house was open, I knocked and said hello. The gentleman who greeted me was Habib Tahir, I knew it was Habib, I'd seen his face before I'd landed in Baghdad since I'd landed I'd seen it hundreds of times. "Mr McMullen I presume, please there is no need to wait that is why the door is open. A few years back my mother got tired of getting up to answer the door so we keep it open specially why I am home". He gave a smile and a shake of the head. "Please this way". He led me through a large room with big plush sofas around the walls, in the centre of the room were coffee tables with boxes on them. A couple of children were looking in one of the boxes, Habib spoke to one of them "Faz, they are in the box in the corner". Faz and his friend went to the box, grabbed a couple of baseball's, thanked Habib and ran out into the street. "The baseballs they wanted are unsigned, they want them to play baseball".
We moved out of the first room into a courtyard, across the courtyard sat a middle-aged couple.
" Mr McMullen this is my father and my mother".
"Please Mr McMullen I am Maalik, this is my wife Fabiana or her full title Dr Fabiana Tahir".
"Please Mr McMullen, Fabiana will do".
Then you should call me Hank.
I noticed out of the corner of my eye Habib look at his father, his father gave a slight nod. It was later that I found out Habib was getting permission to also call me Hank, it was the first of many things I would see and hear that would sway my opinion on Habib Tahir. On my journey from the airport I thought he'd sold his soul to the devil just to make as much money as he could, I mean he was advertising baby food despite the lack of a baby. Never judge a book by it's cover my father had once said, how try would those words echo on meeting Habib.
"Sit down Hank, you must be tired and hungry after your journey and you look too thin we will put meat on your bones the next couple of days". Fabiana said with a smile.
The table was weighed down with food and sweet tea, I'd never had middle Eastern food but this would not be my last. The food was lovely, the tea was sweeter than I preferred but again it would be a taste I'd get used to. When my editor had asked the Tahir's if I could interview Habib in his home, it was given that I'd be staying in a hotel, the Tahir's however stated that they would not be good hosts inviting somebody to their house then asking them to leave they insisted I stay in their home. The evening was lovely, the Tahir family were perfect hosts.
The day after Maalik had gone to his job at the Khadimiya Electricity Department, Fabiana had gone to the Khadimiya Hospital for Children where she was head of the neurology department.
During our talk that day Habib told me how he would get sponsorship deals in Iraq were he would negotiate that the fee was paid with 1/4 being money but 3/4 being products. The products being distributed through the street he and his parents lived in, it turned out that's what Amjad meant, the baby food was going to mother's like Amjads sister. Turned out he wasn't the man I thought he was, he wasn't money driven he was community driven. We also talked about the journey to the UMEBA, he was frank about this. He admitted it was a long shot he'd make the Santa Cruz AA team in the Kings system let alone the majors. His goal was to one day see someone like Faz get to the majors and if he could help in any small way that would be just as rewarding to him as it would if he played in the UMEBA.
That evening after another tasty meal I phoned my friendly neighbourhood taxi driver Amjad, he wanted to know if Habib was well, if I enjoyed my stay the works. When we pulled up at the airport I reached inside my coat pocket. "No Mr McMullen, no money, no money. A friend of Habib's is a friend of mine". It's not money Amjad it's a signed baseball from the Far East Baseball League All Star Game, Habib signed it and gave it to me I asked him if I could give it to one of his biggest fans. "Mr McMullen you joke, if someone gave me a gold nugget the size of a baseball I would not be happier, well maybe just a little bit", he said with a smile.
That month with my first article for the UMEBA Monthly I got front page headlines Journey with a Taxi Driver. A few days later I got a letter from Habib, "Amjad is signing autographs after your article".
If I get a team, hopefully an expansion team
I'll try to get an article like this for every player, I've heard Hank McMullen say "Karachi seems like a nice place to watch baseball". 
