What’s missing at Asia Cup – handshakes or spirit of the game?
Pakistan skipper Slman Agha leads his team back to the dressing room after Indian players shunned the traditional handshake following their Asia Cup game last week - AFP
But this was no ordinary gesture. The refusal came against the backdrop of fresh tensions between India and Pakistan. Following the recent killing of Indian tourists in Kashmir, the Indian government had taken a hardline stance towards Pakistan. The Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI), never far from government influence, followed suit. What better way to demonstrate alignment than to avoid a handshake with Pakistan on live television?
A report on Cricinfo quoted an official as saying the controversy was triggered “four minutes before the toss” in Sunday’s game between India and Pakistan, when Pycroft was informed that the Indian captain will not shake hands with his Pakistani counterpart.
“PCB officials argued that Pycroft should have alerted the ICC about this unusual request; Pycroft is believed to have said he did not have time to do so. With enough time, he would have consulted the ICC. Instead, moments before the toss, he told Salman Agha of the situation, believing he was avoiding a potentially embarrassing public moment if Agha went to shake hands with Suryakumar Yadav only to be snubbed,” Cricinfo reported.
Pakistan’s captain, Salman Ali Agha, refused to appear at the post-match presentation. Their coach, Mike Hesson, criticised India’s refusal to engage in the traditional handshake at the end of the match. The Pakistan team manager accused Pycroft of siding with India. The Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) went so far as to demand Pycroft’s removal from their fixtures, threatening to boycott their must-win clash with the UAE unless the ICC intervened. In the end, Pakistan backed down after Pycroft apologised, blaming the incident on “miscommunication”. The match was delayed but went ahead. The row was patched over, yet beneath the surface, questions lingered.
The BCCI is the richest cricket board in the world–richer, in fact, than all the others combined. Television rights, sponsorship deals, and the billion-dollar Indian Premier League (IPL) have transformed India into the financial superpower of world cricket. That kind of wealth brings power. The ICC now bends its calendar to suit Indian television schedules. World Cups are designed with India’s interests at heart.
And no matter what politics say, India and Pakistan are made to meet at every global tournament because those matches are worth a fortune. This is why Pycroft’s decision, strange as it seemed, struck such a nerve. Was it simply poor judgement, or another example of officials falling in line with Indian political interests? Many suspect the latter.
There is clarity now: Pycroft’s decision has not been seen by the ICC as a breach of any code of conduct but as an action he was authorised to take in his remit as a match official managing the game. Pakistan, to their credit, rattled the cage. They cancelled press conferences, delayed their team bus, and fired off angry letters. For a brief moment, they seemed ready to throw the tournament into turmoil. But once the apology came, they stepped back into line.
And the rest? Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, and Afghanistan did not raise their voices. They quietly carried on, unwilling to upset the paymaster. Without India’s broadcasters and sponsors, tournaments like the Asia Cup would struggle to survive. This is the reality of modern cricket. India is the landlord; the rest of the cricketing world are tenants who know better than to complain.
Tournament schedules revolve around Indian audiences. Look at the Asia Cup– India, regardless of their position in the group, are designated A1 in the next round. Meanwhile, Group B’s rankings are decided on actual performance–wins, points, and run-rate. Associate nations are given token matches before being shuffled out. Officials seem more concerned about keeping India happy than ensuring fairness.
Pakistan’s boycott threat was never carried out because the cost would have been too high. Broadcasters would have lost millions, the Asian Cricket Council (ACC) and ICC would have faced embarrassment, and Pakistan would have been eliminated. So they demurred. And what of Australia and England, cricket’s so-called traditional powers? They, too, tread carefully. Their leagues–the Big Bash and The Hundred–are small fry compared with the IPL. Even they know where the real money lies.
If no one resists, cricket risks becoming a one-nation show, with India at the centre and everyone else reduced to supporting roles. This is not about blaming India’s passion for the game. Their fans are genuine, their stadiums packed, their love for cricket undeniable. Their money has lifted the profile of the sport worldwide.
But one country cannot be allowed to dominate cricket to this extent or drag it into the politics of the subcontinent. The ICC must remember its role is to serve the global game, not just one nation. Other boards must also find courage. Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, South Africa, New Zealand, Australia, and England–if they stand together, they could demand fairness and balance.
The “No Handshake Saga” will one day be forgotten, but it revealed the imbalance that threatens cricket today. India’s financial muscle is vast, and its politics increasingly seep into cricket. But money and government pressure should not be a licence to bully. If the rest of the cricketing world continues to stay silent, the game will slowly lose its diversity, fairness, and spirit. Cricket is bigger than any one board, bigger than any one nation. For the sake of the game, the silence must end.