Cricket was once celebrated as a gentleman’s game, a sport that thrived on fairness, humility and respect. Today, it stands dangerously close to losing that identity. The “no-handshake” controversy in the Asia Cup 2025 where Indian players walked off the field refusing to shake hands with Pakistan’s team, followed by the victorious Indian team captain refusing to take the winning trophy from Pakistan’s Mohsin Naqvi who happens to be the Asian Cricket Council’s Chairman, is more than a symbolic snub — it is a troubling sign of how politics, power and profit are bleeding into the game.
The shadow of the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) looms large over every corner of the cricketing world. With India generating nearly 40 per cent of the ICC’s revenue through broadcasting and sponsorships, the BCCI has transformed financial dominance into political control. Decisions about hosting, scheduling and governance often bend to Indian priorities, while smaller boards, financially dependent on Indian tours, remain silent. For Pakistan, the implications are especially stark. Bilateral series have been frozen for years despite the ICC’s stated mission of promoting global cricket, leaving fans deprived of one of the sport’s greatest rivalries.
The Asia Cup incident brought the politics of cricket into sharper focus. What should have been a moment of mutual respect became a display of hostility, justified by India as a gesture of solidarity with victims of violence back home. But cricket has always been more than a scoreboard — it has been a stage for diplomacy, a rare bridge between adversarial nations. By refusing a simple handshake, India weaponised a basic act of sportsmanship and, in doing so, risked setting a precedent where cricket is no longer immune from political agendas.
Then comes the Indian Premier League, a tournament that has redefined cricket’s global landscape. With billion-dollar broadcast deals and team valuations that rival football clubs in Europe, the IPL has turned cricket into an entertainment empire. While it has undoubtedly created opportunities for young talent, it has also commercialised the sport to the point where aggression, showmanship and financial incentives outweigh tradition and respect. The league’s sheer scale allows the BCCI to dictate terms internationally, with players and boards alike mindful of the lucrative contracts at stake. The result is a game that increasingly reflects India’s commercial interests rather than the collective spirit of world cricket.
For Pakistan, this trend is doubly damaging. Not only has it been systematically sidelined from bilateral cricket with India, but it also faces the brunt of cricket’s new political theatre. The refusal of handshakes, the manipulation of international scheduling, and the dominance of IPL money combine to leave Pakistani cricket marginalised in a game it has contributed to with world-class talent and historic victories.
The real casualty in all of this, however, is cricket itself. The sport is built not just on runs and wickets but on an unwritten code of fairness and respect. That code is now fraying. When political gestures overshadow sporting ones, when one board’s financial power overshadows collective governance, and when tournaments prioritise profit over principle, cricket loses the very values that made it unique.
The controversies of 2025 are not isolated incidents. They are warning signs of a deeper crisis — one where the balance between politics and sport is tilting dangerously in favour of the former. If cricket is to protect its credibility, urgent reforms are needed. The ICC must reclaim its independence, the game must be depoliticised, and the spirit of sportsmanship must be placed above financial or political gain.
Otherwise, the “gentleman’s game” will become just another battlefield, where the loudest, richest and most powerful dictate the rules, and the true spirit of cricket is drowned out in the noise.
