Cricket is meant to be a gentleman’s game. But when a terror-exporting nation like Pakistan enters the arena, the “gentleman” is replaced by indecency, deception, and dishonor. What unfolded at the Asia Cup was not just another cricketing contest—it was a test of national dignity. India didn’t just defeat Pakistan on the field; it humiliated them thrice in the same tournament, a feat unprecedented in cricketing history. Yet, true to its rogue character, Pakistan found one last way to disgrace the sport—by stealing the trophy itself.
Let’s be clear. India’s five-wicket demolition job of Pakistan was not just a victory—it was a continuation of “Operation Sindoor,” a campaign of resilience against a neighbour that survives only on venom and violence. Prime Minister Narendra Modi had called it right: India’s soldiers defended the nation with firepower, and India’s cricketers carried that same spirit to the pitch, dismantling Pakistan with surgical precision.
And then came the disgrace. By International Cricket Council (ICC) regulations, the presentation of trophies is not a casual event. Rule 13.7 of ICC’s Playing Conditions clearly mandates that the presentation ceremony be held with proper protocol, ensuring neutrality and dignity. The Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) chairman, Mohsin Naqvi—who also happens to moonlight as Pakistan’s Interior Minister—was scheduled to present the trophy. The Indian team, backed by the BCCI, refused to accept the cup from a man whose government is actively waging war against India. That was not just symbolic defiance—it was the only honorable choice.
What followed is shameful even by Pakistan’s standards. Instead of handing over the trophy through a neutral Asian Cricket Council official, Naqvi quietly whisked it away to his hotel room like a thief in the night. If you can’t win it, steal it—that seems to be the PCB’s latest cricketing doctrine.
The BCCI was right to stand its ground. Secretary Devajit Saikia openly declared that “India cannot accept a trophy from someone waging war against the country.” He also called out Naqvi’s indecent conduct, reminding the world that cricket cannot be divorced from morality. In fact, ICC’s Code of Conduct, Preamble 1.1, requires “respect for opponents and officials, and the spirit of the game.” Pakistan failed that test both on the field and off it.
To those bleeding-heart apologists who whine that India should not have hosted the Asia Cup in the first place—your hypocrisy reeks. India, the world’s largest democracy, cannot abandon international obligations simply because a terror nation lurks on the horizon. The real disgrace is not India’s participation, but the Congress-backed infiltration within BCCI itself. Vice President Rajeev Shukla, a Congress MP, had pushed for hosting this edition, despite knowing how deeply Indian sentiments were scarred after the Pahalgam massacre, where 26 innocent tourists, including honeymooning couples, were executed by Pakistani terrorists who identified them by religion. Those women, widowed in blood, became the real symbol of “Operation Sindoor.”
And yet, here we are, tolerating a Shukla inside Indian cricket administration—a man whose party has spent decades normalizing “Ganga-Jamuni Tehzeeb” while Pakistan spills Indian blood in temples, bazaars, and valleys. For how long will Indian cricket suffer such termites gnawing from within?
Let the truth be stated without apology: Pakistan is not a cricketing nation; it is a terror factory wearing cricket whites. Its players, board officials, and even fans carry the same venom as its military generals. That the PCB chairman chose theft over dignity only proves what India has always said—Pakistan does not understand the meaning of sportsmanship.
India has shown spine, both militarily and in sport. It is time the BCCI shows the same courage within, by throwing out political termites like Shukla, and ensuring Indian cricket administration reflects the nation’s dignity. Because if Pakistan cannot play cricket with honor, India must make sure it never steals glory again.
