Greatest sportsman is endlessly debatable but a stronger case can be made for greatest athlete. Going unbeaten for five years in a physically demanding game like squash and not missing many games shows supreme fitness and athleticism. Not many athletes have can achieve that level of fitness irrespective of the sports popularity or standing.
And Jehangir Khan is much more well known outside Pakistan and India then people seem to think. Squash was a much more popular sport in the 80's in Australia and Europe. And how much the global popularity of the sport matters is debatable. Most cricketers are not well known outside the subcontinent, people know Muhammad Ali but the viewership of boxing in India or Pakistan would be negligible. Same goes for baseball and basketball outside America and a lot of Olympic sports are pretty niche. Winning an Olympic gold medal and doing it consecutively over a period of time would still be a huge achievement irrespective of the popularity of the sport. And if Jehangir khan was American (or even Indian) and if he played in the era of social media and over hyped marketing he would certainly have been labelled as the greatest sportsman ever (not that I agree with that label).
Everyone knew who he was despite the lack of popularity when it came to certain sports compared to the national ones he still bought attention to boxing from every territory. Ali has also visited Pakistan twice. Muhammad Ali participated in fourth South Asian Games in 1989 in Islamabad as a special guest. His visit here was no less than an honor for Pakistanis. He visited Lahore’s Kinniard College in 1988 where he met and took pictures with students. He also met with common citizens during his visits. PTV use to cover Ali's fights in Pakistan.
Some tributes in the wake of his passing from Pakistan:
https://www.dawn.com/news/1262898
"Anyone who lived through the 1970s could not have remained immune to the phenomenon that was Muhammad Ali, even if — like me — they had missed him at the peak of his athletic powers.
Coming back to boxing after being stripped of his world heavyweight title and having his boxing license revoked in 1967 by US boxing authorities for three and a half years — because of his refusal to participate in America’s war in Vietnam — he was a larger than life figure.
Not only was he a spectacular athlete rising from the ashes of forced exile, he was a moral giant, unafraid to put his principles before fame and money. But as a kid, I didn’t know all this.
Early mornings with Ali
For me, it was the pure excitement he inspired in everyone around me, particularly my father.
I still vividly recall being woken up by him early in the morning so my brother and I could watch PTV’s live transmission with him of Ali’s famous ‘Rumble in the Jungle’ fight against George Foreman in Kinshasa, Zaire. Ali would win that hugely hyped fight to regain his heavyweight crown.
We would repeat that early morning ritual many times later, whenever Ali’s fights were shown in Pakistan, which — if I am not mistaken — was always.
Live transmissions of sporting events were rare events then and being allowed, nay encouraged, to wake up in the middle of the night to view them, were the pinnacle of excitement as a kid.
Explore: Dawn archives — 'Muhammad Ali comes to Pakistan' and more
At some point, I was presented with a 45rpm record of Ali’s iconic pep song ‘Float Like A Butterfly, Sting Like A Bee’ and it became one of my most prized possessions. I used to listen to it over and over.
Later on, as I grew older, I came to despise the very spectacle of boxing, which more and more reminded me of Roman gladiatorial contests, poor people damaging and sometimes, killing each other for the sport of others and the monetary benefit of rich promoters.
The long-term medical consequences of concussive blows to the head that boxing perhaps causes were only tragically manifest in Ali’s own later development of Parkinson’s disease.
Perhaps this growing up coincided with Ali’s decline as well, perhaps it was independent of it.
But I more or less lost interest in watching boxing after Ali was beaten by a young and unlikeable Leon Spinks. Ali would go on and win his title back one more time from Spinks but he was already not the same athlete any more.
When he lost his last title fight with Larry Holmes in 1980, it was too painful to watch.
But I never stopped loving Ali.
As I learned more about the struggles of his early years (my father bought me a biography) and his conscientious objection to America’s murderous war in Vietnam and his activism against racism at home, my respect only deepened.
As many people have pointed out, he was a poor black kid from Kentucky who bootstrapped himself up to the heights of fame and money and then gave it all up for his principles.
In pictures: Muhammad Ali: 'The Greatest' boxer, showman, ambassador
Not only this, he was willing to accept the derision of his hyper-patriotic countryfolk and undergo a jail sentence for his values.
One would be hard-pressed to find any other such example of moral fearlessness in the sporting or entertainment world, where athletes and entertainers cave under far softer pressures, usually just the threat of withdrawal of sponsorship dollars.
Pakistan's Champ
I have often pondered over what it was that inspired such a following of an American boxer so far away in a country like Pakistan — certainly no other pugilist before or since Ali has inspired the same sort of adulation.
Pakistanis often still do not know the names of most American athletes and boxing is still a fringe sport in this country. Was it the fact that he had converted to Islam and Pakistanis came to see him as one of their own?
It’s probably true that Ali being a Muslim played a big part in why Pakistanis embraced him as ‘ours.’
Recall that these were also heady days of the 1st Islamic Summit Conference, which had taken place in Lahore in early 1974, with grand calls for Muslim unity.
But to reduce the phenomenon of Ali to his religious conversion would be simplistic.
It doesn’t explain, for example, his massive adoration around the world, even among non-Muslims. Mike Tyson, another world-renowned boxer, would also convert to Islam many years later but he never commanded the love of ordinary Pakistanis the way Ali did.
No, Ali was much more than just a convert.
In his persona Ali projected a complicated mix of emotions for his fans around the world — underdog fighting against the odds, moral strength, grace under pressure, likeable wit, anti-colonialism, anti-imperialism, sacrificing for what one believes in and, yes, the beauty of pure athleticism.
Some of these qualities were even inferred from his sportsmanship. I recall discussing as a young boy how Ali never went for body-blows, unlike his rivals, his only jabs were to the head.
This was taken, in our naïve hero-worship, as another sign of how Ali played ‘clean’, never sullying himself with ‘low’ things like punches to the gut or the abdomen.
But boxing was never the real reason for Ali’s greatness. The fact of the matter is Ali transcended sport and spectacle.
This is why even 30-odd years after his retirement he remained an icon, even to those (in the majority, it should be pointed out) who never lived through the 1970s and were born long after he entered the ring for the last time. He was what we all aspire to be as human beings.
Rest in peace, Champ. You truly were the greatest."
Here is Ali with Sultan Rahi one of Pakistan's famous actors:
Another link of an article paying tribute to Ali from Pakistan with some insight:
https://arynews.tv/en/muhammed-ali-made-two-visits-pakistan/
"The legendary boxer paid visit to Data Darbar in Lahore and made pictures with the then chief minister Punjab and current Prime Minister of Pakistan Nawaz Sharif as well.
The greatest boxer would be remembered forever not just because of his boxing but because of his efforts for humanitarian causes.
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We're comparing the amount of matches won, streaks, dominance, least matches lost, most tournaments won, etc - which is all pretty logical. 
