The omission of Shubman Gill from India’s T20 World Cup squad is not merely a selection call—it is a tacit admission of error by a selection committee that has lurched from impulsive overreach to reluctant course correction. In doing so, the selectors have exposed the deep inconsistencies, poor succession planning, and knee-jerk decision-making that have long plagued Indian cricket’s selection process.
What makes Gill’s exclusion particularly striking is not that he was dropped, but that he was ever burdened with such disproportionate responsibility in the first place.
Not long ago, in these very columns, I had questioned the wisdom of overloading Gill—fresh off a demanding and successful Test series in England—by fast-tracking him into leadership roles across formats. That concern has now been vindicated by events that are firmly in the public domain.
Following India’s Test success, the selectors—clearly intoxicated by a single series victory—anointed Gill as the ODI captain, replacing Rohit Sharma, and simultaneously positioned him as a future all-formats leader by installing him as vice-captain of the T20 side. This was not succession planning; it was ambition masquerading as foresight.
As Mohinder Amarnath, a member of India’s 1983 World Cup-winning side, once famously described selectors, a “pack of jokers”—a phrase I invoke here not as abuse, but as an indictment of institutional recklessness.
Leadership in international cricket is not a ceremonial title. It carries tactical responsibility, mental strain, media pressure, dressing-room authority, and the weight of national expectation. As a former Ranji Trophy cricketer, I know how even seasoned professionals struggle under such pressure. To thrust a young batter—still evolving his own game—into leadership across formats was unfair, unwise, and ultimately damaging.
The consequences were swift and unforgiving.
India’s humiliating home series defeat against South Africa under Gill’s captaincy raised serious questions—not just about results, but about preparation, temperament, and readiness. Gill himself endured a visible dip in form, culminating in an injury that ruled him out of the final Test. His struggles continued in the T20 format, where his returns in the first two matches were far removed from the standards expected at the highest level.
From consistency to confusion, Gill’s slide was not sudden—it was structural.
Even more troubling was the message this sent to Suryakumar Yadav, the world’s No.1 T20 batter and the designated T20 captain. By making Gill vice-captain in the shortest format, the selectors effectively planted seeds of uncertainty in the mind of a leader who had earned his position through performance and credibility.
If media reports are to be believed, the selectors were already determined to project Gill as India’s long-term, all-formats captain. That revelation alone explains the haste—and the havoc.
What does this do to the dressing room?
What does it do to leadership stability?
And what does it say about meritocracy?
Great teams thrive on clarity. Confused leadership pipelines only breed insecurity.
Gill’s exclusion from the T20 World Cup squad is therefore less a bold decision and more an unavoidable retreat. It lays bare the selectors’ earlier folly. You cannot anoint a player as the future across formats based on one successful series and then discard him months later without damaging both the individual and the institution.
How can any sensible selection committee justify such extremes?
India is not a talent-starved nation. With a population of 140 crore and an unmatched domestic structure, India can—and should—field three distinct teams for Tests, ODIs, and T20Is, each with leadership best suited to the format. This is not radical thinking; it is standard practice among successful cricketing nations.
For a significant period, many believed that Rishabh Pant and Hardik Pandya were the natural leaders for limited-overs cricket. Pant brings instinct and resilience; Pandya offers tactical nous and modern white-ball aggression. Either would have been a defensible choice.
Instead, the selectors opted for haste over homework.
Leadership transitions require patience, grooming, and insulation—not public experimentation at the highest level.
India’s recent T20 performances against South Africa offered something rare: balance. That squad, built on defined roles and clear leadership, deserves continuity. With the T20 World Cup scheduled to begin on February 9, this is not the time for further tinkering or grand experiments.
The same principle applies to the ODI setup. Gill must be protected—not projected. Relieving him of leadership pressure will allow him to rediscover his natural batting rhythm, something Indian cricket desperately needs in all formats.
History offers proof.
India’s golden white-ball years under MS Dhoni and later Rohit Sharma were built on trust, role clarity, and leadership stability—not forced coronations. Players thrived because they knew their place was secure, their responsibilities defined, and their captains backed.
Gill’s omission should serve as a lesson—but whether the selectors actually learn from it remains an open question. Talent cannot be hurried, leadership cannot be imposed, and credibility cannot be manufactured overnight.
If Indian cricket is to dominate across formats again, selectors must abandon impulsive decision-making and return to fundamentals: performance, preparedness, and patience.
Until then, course corrections will continue to look less like strategy—and more like damage control.
