Wake up before it’s too late: Is Pakistan cricket heading hockey’s way?

Wake up before it’s too late: Is Pakistan cricket heading hockey’s way?

By Nawaz Gohar ;  The campaign of the Pakistan cricket team at the ICC Men’s T20 World Cup 2026 in Colombo will be remembered not merely as a failed expedition, but as a painful reminder of how far we have drifted from professionalism, merit, and vision.

It was not just a defeat in a tournament; it was a collapse of planning, accountability, and cricketing sense. The Men in Green arrived with tall claims and familiar rhetoric, but departed with bruised egos, shattered hopes, and a nation once again asking the same old questions.

The campaign began in the most predictable yet agonizing manner, a defeat against arch-rivals India. Losing to India is never just about two points; it is about pride, preparation, and psychological strength. Pakistan looked underprepared, tactically confused, and emotionally overwhelmed.

Our bowlers, once feared in the shortest format, lacked discipline. Our batters, who boast about fearless cricket, played as though they were carrying the weight of history on fragile shoulders. India did not need to produce magic; they simply played smarter, more organized cricket. That alone was enough.

As if the loss to India was not humiliating enough, nature intervened in the most ironic way possible. Rain “whitewashed” Pakistan’s crucial clash against New Zealand. In tournaments of this magnitude, every match is an opportunity to recover lost ground. But the washed-out encounter left Pakistan stranded in uncertainty.

Yet blaming rain would be escapism. Championship sides do not leave their fate hanging by weather forecasts; they secure qualification through dominance. Pakistan had already squandered that cushion.

The third nail in the coffin came at the hands of England. The English side exposed Pakistan’s fragile middle order and unimaginative captaincy. While England rotated their bowlers intelligently and adapted to conditions,

Pakistan persisted with predictable strategies. The powerplay overs were wasted, the death overs mishandled, and the field placements often baffling. It was a defeat that underlined not just technical flaws, but intellectual bankruptcy in approach.

Yes, Pakistan did defeat Sri Lanka in the Super Eights clash. But even that victory carried the bitter aftertaste of failure. The Men in Green could not surpass the required net run rate criteria to qualify for the semifinals. Winning without conviction, triumphing without authority, that sums up Pakistan’s campaign.

In modern T20 cricket, margins matter. Intent matters. Professional teams understand qualification scenarios down to decimal points. Pakistan played as if mathematics was someone else’s responsibility.

Amid this debris of disappointment, only two names stand tall: Sahibzada Farhan and Fakhar Zaman. Farhan displayed hunger, timing, and the temperament required at the global stage. Fakhar, despite past inconsistencies, showed glimpses of the fearless strokeplay that once made him a match-winner. These two at least appeared to understand that representing Pakistan is a privilege, not a social entitlement.

The rest of the squad? A painful tale of underperformance and questionable selection. It is no secret in cricketing circles that certain players find their way into the playing XI not purely on merit, but through connections, lobbying, and the blessings of high-ups. Nepotism and favoritism are cancers that slowly destroy institutions. When blue-eyed boys are preferred over deserving domestic performers, decline becomes inevitable.

Pakistan’s domestic circuit is brimming with talent. Youngsters are scoring heavily, bowlers are clocking impressive speeds, and all-rounders are emerging with modern skillsets. Yet when it comes to ICC events, we witness the same recycled names, the same politically backed inclusions, and the same fragile excuses. How long will genuine performers knock on closed doors?

Unless those forcefully imposed players, the near and dear ones of influential quarters, are shown the door, Pakistan cricket will continue its downward spiral. Selection must be transparent. Performance must be the only currency. Reputation, relationships, and regional favoritism must be buried once and for all. Otherwise, we will keep suffering identical heartbreaks in ICC tournaments.

More alarming is the psychological barrier against big teams. There is a visible inferiority complex when facing India or England in high-stakes matches. Pakistan’s body language betrays anxiety. Our players often speak about “positive intent,” yet their cricket reflects fear of failure. True champions embrace pressure; they do not crumble under it.

An overhaul is no longer a luxury, it is a necessity. We need structural reforms from grassroots to the national setup. Domestic performers must be given consistent and consecutive chances. One series cannot define a career. Stability breeds confidence. If we keep chopping and changing while simultaneously protecting underperforming favorites, we will remain trapped in mediocrity.

Captaincy also demands scrutiny. Tactical awareness, game-reading ability, and bold decision-making are prerequisites in T20 cricket. Defensive mindsets have no place in a format built on calculated aggression. Data analytics, match simulations, and strategic flexibility must become integral components of team preparation.

The comparison that haunts me most is with Pakistan’s national sport, hockey. Once a global powerhouse, Pakistan hockey declined due to mismanagement, favoritism, and administrative negligence. Today, stadiums that once echoed with cheers lie silent. If cricket administrators do not act wisely and swiftly, the fate of Pakistan cricket could mirror that tragic trajectory. Popularity is not immunity from collapse.

We must open our eyes. Sentimental attachments cannot dictate national selection. Accountability cannot remain selective. Professionalism cannot be optional. The sinking ship of Pakistan cricket requires decisive leadership, honest introspection, and ruthless reforms.

The passionate supporters deserve better. They invest emotions, time, and unwavering faith. They celebrate victories like festivals and endure defeats like personal grief. Repeated failures against major opponents, especially India, erode not just confidence but national sporting morale.

The lessons from the T20 World Cup 2026 are brutally clear: talent exists, but meritocracy does not. Passion exists, but planning does not. Hope exists, but direction does not.

If we truly wish to restore Pakistan’s stature in ICC events, we must dismantle the culture of favoritism, empower genuine talent, and build a fearless, strategically sound unit. Otherwise, this cycle of embarrassment will continue, tournament after tournament, heartbreak after heartbreak.

The time for cosmetic changes is over. What Pakistan cricket needs now is courage, not on the field alone, but in boardrooms and selection committees. Only then can the Men in Green rise again, not as participants, but as true contenders.