The latest chapter in one of cricket’s most storied rivalries unfolded in the United Arab Emirates on September 14, 2025, as India and Pakistan faced off in a high-stakes Asia Cup group stage clash. This wasn’t just another match—it was a contest loaded with emotion, history, and, as it turned out, controversy that would reverberate far beyond the boundary ropes.
India, led by captain Suryakumar Yadav, chased down Pakistan’s total with apparent ease, sealing a seven-wicket victory. But when the final run was scored and the dust settled, what happened—or rather, what didn’t happen—became the real talking point. The Indian players, breaking with long-standing cricketing tradition, walked off the field without shaking hands with their Pakistani counterparts. It was a moment that stunned millions around the world and reignited debate about the intersection of sportsmanship, politics, and national identity.
The origins of this unusual gesture lay not in the game itself, but in recent tragic events off the field. Just months prior, a terror attack in Pahalgam, Kashmir, left 26 people dead—a massacre that Indian officials, including Prime Minister Narendra Modi, attributed to Pakistan-backed militants. The attack triggered some of the most severe fighting between the two nuclear-armed neighbors in decades, before a fragile cease-fire was restored. Against this tense backdrop, the cricket match became more than just a sporting event—it was a proxy for national sentiment, pride, and, for some, protest.
Indian captain Suryakumar Yadav didn’t mince words in the postmatch news conference. “We gave the proper reply,” he declared, dedicating the win to India’s armed forces and the victims of the Pahalgam attack. Yadav acknowledged that the refusal to shake hands had been planned in advance, a gesture of solidarity with those affected by the violence. “The team was aligned with the government and cricket establishment,” he explained, signaling a new level of nationalistic fervor attached to the game. For many in India, the move was met with approval, with social media users hailing it as a long-overdue statement. The lines between sport and politics had never been so clearly drawn.
But across the border, the reaction was swift and furious. The Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) wasted no time in escalating the matter, lodging a formal complaint with both the Asian Cricket Council (ACC) and the International Cricket Council (ICC). The PCB accused match referee Andy Pycroft of violating ICC conduct codes and the spirit of cricket, claiming that he had instructed Pakistan’s captain, Salman Ali Agha, not to shake hands with his Indian counterpart during the pre-match toss. PCB chief Mohsin Naqvi, who also heads the ACC, took to social media, stating, “The PCB has lodged a complaint with the ICC regarding violations by the Match Referee of the ICC Code of Conduct and the MCC Laws pertaining to the Spirit of Cricket. The PCB has demanded an immediate removal of the Match Referee from the Asia Cup.”
Pakistan’s coach, Mike Hesson, echoed the sense of disappointment and frustration. “We were ready to shake hands,” Hesson said, “but they had already gone in.” Pakistani captain Salman Agha skipped the postmatch ceremony entirely, a visible sign of the team’s displeasure. For the PCB and its supporters, the refusal to engage in the customary handshake was seen as a breach of cricket’s most cherished traditions—a moment when the spirit of sportsmanship was sacrificed at the altar of politics.
Handshakes in cricket are more than just a formality; they are a ritual that embodies mutual respect and the idea that, no matter how fierce the competition, camaraderie prevails at the end. Traditionally, after a match, the two on-field players from the batting side shake hands with the fielding team and umpires, while the rest of the batting team joins in as they enter the ground. Before the toss, the captains shake hands in a gesture often conducted by the match referee and broadcast live. These moments are meant to signal the end of hostilities on the field and the restoration of goodwill—something sorely missing in this latest encounter.
The controversy is further complicated by the complex governance structures of international cricket. While the Asia Cup is overseen by the ACC, led by Pakistan’s Mohsin Naqvi, the ICC is chaired by India’s Jay Shah, who is also the son of a prominent Indian government official. This intertwining of cricket administration and national politics has only fueled suspicions and heightened tensions between the two countries. As Ammar Ali Jan, a historian based in Lahore, pointed out, “It is now shaping every sphere India participates in, including international sport. It’s damaging the spirit of sportsmanship. It’s damaging cricket itself.”
In India, however, the refusal was widely celebrated as a show of strength and a fitting response to the violence in Kashmir. The Indian Premier League, the financial powerhouse of world cricket, has given India an outsized influence in the sport, both on and off the field. Some commentators, like Indian sports journalist Sharda Ugra, suggested that if India truly wanted to make a statement, they could have forfeited the match entirely—a move that would have had significant consequences for their tournament ambitions but would have sent an even stronger message.
As the dust settles, the fallout from this incident is far from over. The PCB’s complaint against Andy Pycroft is now in the hands of the ICC, though the Asia Cup itself remains under ACC jurisdiction. The question of whether cricket can remain a neutral ground for diplomacy and goodwill, or whether it will continue to be a battleground for nationalistic posturing, remains unresolved. What’s clear is that the handshake—or lack thereof—has become a symbol of the broader tensions that continue to define the India-Pakistan relationship, both on and off the pitch.
For now, the Asia Cup rolls on, but the shadow of this controversy lingers. Fans, players, and officials alike are left to ponder whether the spirit of cricket can withstand the pressures of politics and history, or whether the game itself is destined to be shaped by forces far beyond the boundary.
