Asia Cup: Why The Trophy Didn't Matter, But The Gesture Did

In the end, a Pakistani walked away with the Asia Cup, as it were.

That absurd finale, with Mohsin Naqvi, chairman of the Asian Cricket Council (and a Pakistan minister), storming off with the trophy after India refused to accept it from his hands, encapsulated everything wrong with Pakistan’s conduct at this tournament. India, having won fair and square, simply declined to share the ceremonial dais with a representative of the very state that funds terror against it.

It was a message built on symbolism. "We’ll beat you on merit, but we won’t accord you dignity beyond that," was the larger message.

Sceptics, as expected, have claimed hypocrisy. If India was willing to play Pakistan, they argue, why object at the trophy handover? But this misses the nuance. Match-play is about competition and fairness. Presentation ceremonies are about dignity and respect conferred. They have to be earned. India rightly drew the line at the latter as it believed Pak was not deserving of it.

Double standards of the commentariat

In any case, cricket in the modern world is never just about runs and wickets. It is about what those gestures, photographs, and ceremonies mean in a larger political and cultural context. If countries can stage walkouts at the United Nations, a body built precisely for dialogue, why cannot a cricket team walk away from a sham moment of bonhomie?

When diplomats storm out before Israel’s Prime Minister addresses the UNGA, the symbolism is the story. Why should it be different when India refuses to stand on the same dais with a Pakistani minister?

Those accusing India of being petty must reflect on their own hypocrisies. When a PhD scholar in Tamil Nadu refused to accept her degree from the Governor (whom she branded a BJP agent), she (despite the fact that she owed allegiance to the DMK and the whole thing was a political sham) was celebrated by the same 'liberal' set now disapproving of India’s act.

The larger point is, if politics can be expressed at a convocation stage, then surely it can be expressed at a cricket podium too.

The spirit of cricket has long been romanticised as a gentleman’s game. But that sport now exists in a world of drone strikes, diplomatic walkouts, and ideological warfare. Expecting it to remain untouched by geopolitics is naïve.

India’s gesture was not about disrespecting Pakistan, but about safeguarding its dignity.

This is not unprecedented. Countries have boycotted the Olympics and refused handshakes. South Africa was kept out of sports for its policy of apartheid. Many Russian sportspersons now bear the brunt of the country’s war with Ukraine. Israeli players are getting booed across sports they compete in.

It is the hard reality of the day we live in. If you come down to it, sports is not immune to politics, it is often its most visible stage.

Who really mocked cricket's spirit?

If anything, Pakistan's cricketers themselves proved why India’s acts of symbolism were justified. Pak players’ behaviour on the field often betrayed petulance and provocation. After the defeats to India at the group stage and super-4 semi-final league, their players were seen making needling gestures and uploading thinly veiled taunts on social media.

Instead of a dignified acknowledgement of a better opponent, they chose petty jibes and insinuations.

The lowest point came at last night’s shambolic presentation ceremony itself, when Pakistan’s captain Salman Agha casually tossed aside the runners-up cheque, treating it with disdain. It was a telling image. Here was not just a defeat but an attitude that mocked the spirit of the game.

India’s critics argue that refusing the dais demeaned cricket’s unstated but practised principles of honour. But think deeply. Who truly mocked it, the team that was sticking to its stated ideals (India had made it known that it would not receive the cup if it wins it) or the minister who stormed off with a cup that was not his?

A victorious side declining to share a hollow stage is one thing, and a political appointee clutching a trophy in petulance is quite another.

On the field, India’s superiority was absolute. Three wins over Pakistan in three different ways: tactical mastery in one game, batting dominance in another, and nerveless composure in the final. All of these made Naqvi’s surly act not just disrespectful but comic.

But the bigger and real victory for India lay elsewhere. By refusing the trophy from Mohsin Naqvi, India showed that cricket cannot be divorced from the realities of the nations that play it.

The Pakistani minister may have momentarily walked away with the cup. But India walked away with its head held high.