In Florida, the journeys of Pakistan’s ice hockey teams are a testament to love, identity, and the audacious belief that some dreams are worth chasing, no matter how impossible they seem.
At the Panthers IceDen in Coral Springs, Florida, a chant starts softly, then grows into a thunderous roar that shakes the plexiglass: “Pakistan Zindabad!” For the players on the ice, looking at a sea of green flags and ecstatic faces, the moment is surreal. They have just done the unthinkable.
They have won gold.
This is not the beginning of a feel-good sports movie. This is the true story of the Pakistan men’s ice hockey team, a group of diaspora athletes who, just one year after forming and without a single ice rink in their homeland, conquered the LATAM Cup Division III last month, winning all five fixtures. Their journey was a testament to love, identity, and the audacious belief that some dreams are worth chasing, no matter how impossible they seem.
It all began with a man and a question: “Why not us?”
Adnan Khan, known to everyone as Donny, is the founder of Pakistan ice hockey. He was born in Karachi, but his love for the game began as a teenager after he moved to the US.
“Ice hockey was something that I really felt connected with,” the 53-year-old Donny recalled while talking to Dawn. “It helped me kind of assimilate into American culture and society.”
That connection grew into a career. He worked for the NHL, USA Hockey and Hockey Canada, becoming a true ice hockey insider. But a piece of his heart was always in Pakistan. Now, he saw a way to use a sport that had helped him find his place in America to help represent his homeland on the world stage.
“I felt we need to represent Pakistan as a positive place in whatever way we can,” Donny said.
The spark ignited when family in Islamabad told him that the Canadian High Commission was using ice hockey to teach climate change. At the time, through his work with the NHL, he was supporting the LATAM Cup, a tournament growing to include teams beyond South America.
The stars aligned. “Why not us?” became a mission. But Donny knew this couldn’t just be a team of expats; it had to be Pakistan’s team. His years of groundwork were key.
Bridge of trust
“I’ve been in contact with the Pakistan Winter Sports Federation for a few years now,” he explained. He had sent equipment and arranged online coaching meetings for enthusiasts in the country’s northern regions. “I sent a letter last year saying I would like to have their endorsement to represent Pakistan in this tournament.”
His genuine efforts to grow the sport at home had by then built a bridge of trust.
“Because I’ve been helping the Winter Sports Federation, they were kind enough to continue to support us … they recognised that we were representing Pakistan here.”
This official endorsement was their badge of authenticity, allowing them to play under the Pakistani flag with full pride.
With that legitimacy secured, Donny jumped all in.
“I submitted the team into the tournament, started working on a logo, designing a jersey, and started finding a roster,” he said.
The first year was humbling.
“While trying to build the team, pretty much anyone I could talk to, I put on the team,” Donny recalled.
In their first tournament, last year’s LATAM Cup, Pakistan’s team was severely short-handed. Donny, who was also working as a coach in that tournament, remembered that they had only 13 skaters and one goalie — his 14-year-old son. They won just one game.
But a seed was planted.
There was also the financial reality of participating; but from the very beginning, this was a venture run on love, not money.
“We are managing everything from here, we don’t have sponsors or anything,” Donny revealed. “I’ve been covering some of the upfront costs for the startup just for the love of the game.”
The financial burden was a shared sacrifice, shouldered by everyone involved.
“We’ve been doing fundraising drives to cover the cost of jerseys and equipment,” Donny said. “And then a lot of the parents have been chipping in; people buying dinners for the team practices, things like that.”
This collective effort was the true foundation of every win. They were all volunteers, investing in a dream they believed was bigger than themselves.
Digital scavenger hunt
Building a national team from scratch in a year, however, requires more than just hope; it requires genius-level resourcefulness. That’s where the players took charge.
Zaakir Khan, a 20-year-old defenseman and the team’s co-captain, became a chief recruiter.
“After that first tournament, me and my co-captain, Tariq Khan, started looking for more diaspora players,” Zaakir told Dawn.
Their method was brilliantly simple.
“Through a website, we were able to look up common Pakistani last names who play ice hockey,” Zaakir, who played at college level for George Mason University, recounted. They scoured databases, reached out via social media, and used Google forms.
They were digital-age pioneers on a patriotic scavenger hunt.
But the call to represent Pakistan required a massive leap of faith. Players flew in from across North America and the UK, often paying their own way.
“It was such a leap of faith, right, to travel halfway across the continent to go play in a tournament with a bunch of guys you don’t really know much about,” Donny said, his voice full of gratitude.
They arrived to find a team that had barely practiced together.
“Right now we’re only able to practice before each tournament,” Zaakir explained. “We are able to get together three or four days before each tournament and we’re able to have quick practice.”
They played through injuries sustained in their brief, intense camps. They shared equipment.
They faced a unique challenge just before the LATAM Cup: their new jerseys, ordered from Pakistan to support the homeland, were stuck in shipping. The men’s team played in their old kits, lending their other set to the newly formed women’s team.
None of it mattered. They were playing for something bigger than themselves.
“It’s always special when you’re playing with people of your heritage,” Zaakir said, articulating a feeling shared by every team-mate. “To be able to play for your country is something that I never thought I’d be able to do.”
Tight-knit group
And, as Zaakir termed it, the team became a “family”.
“We are really fortunate that we were able to recruit players with whom we were able to connect and form a tight-knit group,” Zaakir said.
That chemistry was tested not just by competition, but by conflict. The tournament was non-checking, but the intensity of hockey often boils over.
In one pivotal moment during the LATAM Cup, an opponent ran into the team’s goalie. In a flash, the entire team rallied to defend their team-mate. It was an instinctual act of unity that spoke louder than any victory.
“As someone who’s watching the game and someone who’s responsible for this team, I was so proud of our guys who were standing up for each other,” Donny said. That moment proved they weren’t just a team in name; they were a family, a brotherhood willing to stand up for one another without a second thought.
This feeling of belonging is the team’s bedrock. For these young men, hockey had often been a lonely pursuit.
“Ice hockey is not a very brown dominated sport, especially not a Muslim dominated sport,” said forward Mahd Nasir while talking to Dawn. “So growing up in Vancouver, we grew up around not a lot of Muslim kids playing hockey. So being on a full team of a bunch of Pakistani kids is absolutely amazing.”
Different dynamic
It isn’t just the men’s team that made waves. The newly-formed women’s team, cobbled together from across North America, fought their way to a bronze medal at the LATAM Cup Division II — despite playing their first-ever tournament with a short-handed squad of just 12 players.
The architect behind that incredible feat is Riley Khan, the Assistant General Manager of Pakistan Ice Hockey, who took on the monumental task of building the program from scratch. For her, the mission was personal.
“I got into Pakistan Ice Hockey because last year, Adnan Khan [Donny], my father, put together the men’s team,” Riley told Dawn. “When I travelled to the tournament last year, I saw how many successful women’s teams there were and I wanted to take on the task of putting together a women’s team for Pakistan.”
The initial challenge was simply believing it was possible.
“It didn’t seem possible at the time that there were so many Pakistani women who were passionate about hockey,” she admitted, “until I started looking!”
What she and head coach Mariya Rauf built was more than a team; it was a sanctuary.
“It was surreal to be around girls with so many similar experiences,” Riley said, reflecting on the unique bond they formed. It allowed us to bond in a special way. We were able to create a dynamic that is different than other teams.”
Constant fear
That dynamic was tested by the same logistical nightmares that plagued the men’s team — players flying in from across continents, financial constraints, and the constant fear that it might all fall apart.
“There were multiple times when I was working on this team when I thought that it might not come together in time,” Riley revealed.
But through it all, Mariya was the on-ice glue that held everything together.
“Mariya was a huge part of bringing the girls together once we were at the tournament,” Riley said. “The girls… were connected by Pakistani heritage, but Mariya was a huge part of really bringing them together as a team.”
For Mariya, a NCAA Division I player for Yale, the experience was profoundly moving.
“It was really humbling. I never saw myself as someone people would follow, but knowing that some of the girls joined because of me meant a lot,” Mariya told Dawn. Her vision extended far beyond the ice. “I just hope these women realise that wearing Pakistan’s colors isn’t only about hockey, it’s about creating opportunities for the girls who come after us and showing them that Pakistani women belong in sports.”
This mission of representation was personal.
“As a Pakistani girl growing up in hockey, I never imagined something like this would ever be possible,” Mariya confessed. “I was almost always the only person of color in the locker room. To go from that to leading a team of Pakistani women on the international stage still feels surreal and is an experience that I will never forget.”
Something magical
In Florida, something magical happened. Riley and Mariya’s efforts culminated in a bronze medal and an outpouring of emotion.
It was a triumph of will over circumstance, proving that the passion for hockey and pride in their heritage knows no gender.
“The feeling was pure joy,” Mariya said, describing the locker room scene. “There was laughter, hugs and just a ton of pride. It felt bigger than us, like we had taken a step that would matter for years to come. That’s something none of us will forget.”
The men’s team, on the other hand, stormed through the Division III bracket, their chemistry defying their lack of practice time. And the people came. The few family members from the first year were joined by a legion of supporters.
“I don’t think I have seen this many Pakistani people come together to watch ice hockey. It was amazing,” Donny said.
The 22-year-old Mahd described the unforgettable scene: “People brought Pakistani flags and microphones and every time you scored and looked to the crowd there was a massive sea of Pakistani supporters, all screaming Pakistan Zindabad.”
When the final whistle blew against Peru, securing the 6-1 victory and the gold medal, it was more than a win. It was validation.
A new beginning
The goal now is to ensure this is not an ending, but a beginning. The victory earns them promotion to Division II.
With the roster now expanded to 22 players, Donny dreams of not turning players away but creating more teams.
“My hope is that rather than saying no to anybody, we can just create more teams,” Donny told. “There will be a spot open for maybe another team to come in and build their spot for Pakistan in the lower division.”
Zaakir and Mahd, meanwhile, spoke of inspiring a new generation both in the diaspora and in Pakistan itself.
“Having kids in Pakistan look up to us, it’s just huge,” Mahd said. “They can see kids from across the world… that are representing Pakistan and that are able to play hockey and fulfill representing their country. So that just gives hope to a lot of Pakistani children out there.”
It all started with a question: “Why not us?”
The answer is written in gold — proof that even the wildest dreams can find ice to skate on.
Header image: Players of Pakistan men’s and women’s ice hockey team photographed with the trophy after winning the LATAM Cup gold and bronze medals, respectively, at the Panthers IceDen in Florida, US. — Photo by organisers
