(Image credit: DAWN)
Pakistan did not lose the Asia Cup final to India; they handed it away, error by error. What unfolded in Dubai was not just a defeat but a reminder of how mediocrity, poor planning, and misplaced loyalties continue to strangle Pakistan cricket.
The script began with promise. Sahibzada Farhan (57) and Fakhar Zaman (46) put on an 84-run stand, giving Pakistan control at 113 for 1 in the 13th over. From there, the collapse was spectacular: nine wickets fell for just 33 runs, leaving the team bowled out for 146 in 19.1 overs. This was not the genius of India’s bowlers alone; it was Pakistan’s chronic inability to consolidate. There was no rotation of strike, no partnerships, no calm in the storm. Once Kuldeep Yadav applied pressure with his 4 for 30, Pakistan’s batting surrendered without resistance.
The inability to adapt against spin was glaring. Pakistan looked as though they had not prepared for Kuldeep, or for a pitch that demanded control over slogging. A serious team would have devised a plan: attack the weaker spinners, rotate relentlessly, and deny India their rhythm. Instead, Pakistan’s strategy was to swing blindly and hope for a rescue. No one came.
The collapse revealed deeper fragilities. Fakhar’s dismissal at 46 and Saim Ayub’s cheap wicket exposed a middle order utterly incapable of absorbing pressure. Salman Ali Agha, entrusted with leadership, scratched to eight before falling to Kuldeep. Mohammad Haris, coming off a decent tournament, departed for a duck. By the end, Pakistan’s lower order resembled a procession, not a batting lineup.
Fielding and mental lapses compounded the disaster. This final was not an isolated failure but the culmination of a pattern: run-out blunders, missed chances, and avoidable mistakes across the tournament. In big matches, these small margins separate contenders from pretenders. Pakistan, once again, proved they belong to the latter category.
Yet even with a modest 146 to defend, the contest was not beyond reach. Low totals can be defended with precision bowling, choke-hold pressure, and tactical bravery. Instead, Pakistan unleashed Haris Rauf. Spell after expensive spell, he hemorrhaged runs, finishing with 3.4 overs for 50, the most expensive figures of the night. It was the single most baffling decision of the final: why persist with a bowler spraying the ball around when spinners along with other ballers were holding an end? Why gift India release when the only hope was suffocation?
This was not captaincy; it was negligence. Salman Agha’s refusal to adjust, his loyalty to reputations over match reality, turned a difficult task into an impossible one. Leadership in cricket is about ruthless calls. Persisting with Haris Rauf was not ruthlessness, it was recklessness.
Haris, for his part, has become the poster boy of Pakistan’s flawed selection policies. Pace without accuracy, hype without reliability. He may dazzle in PSL highlights, but in crunch internationals he is a liability. International cricket is about discipline and consistency, not the occasional “on his day” miracle. Yet he continues to walk into the XI as if by right. This is not meritocracy; it is indulgence.
India, in contrast, showed composure. Reeling at 20 for 3, they steadied through Tilak Varma’s unbeaten 69 off 53 balls. A 60-run partnership with Shivam Dube (33) anchored the chase, and even when Dube fell near the end, Varma calmly struck the decisive six before Rinku Singh hit the winning boundary. Where India trusted method, Pakistan trusted miracles. The result was inevitable.
The deeper sickness lies in Pakistan cricket’s culture of unaccountability. A fragile batting lineup collapses? No consequences. A captain mismanages a final? Silence. A bowler concedes 50 runs without the crucial wickets Pakistan needed? He plays again. This is why mediocrity thrives: because no one is ever truly held responsible.
Pakistan’s defeat should not be remembered only for the scoreboard. It should be remembered as the sum of all its failures: a batting order without backbone, a strategy without imagination, a fielding unit without focus, and a captain without courage.
Until Pakistan stops protecting reputations and starts protecting results, humiliations like this Asia Cup final 2025 in Dubai will not be the exception, they will be the rule.
Pakistan did not lose the Asia Cup final to India; they handed it away, error by error. What unfolded in Dubai was not just a defeat but a reminder of how mediocrity, poor planning, and misplaced loyalties continue to strangle Pakistan cricket.
The script began with promise. Sahibzada Farhan (57) and Fakhar Zaman (46) put on an 84-run stand, giving Pakistan control at 113 for 1 in the 13th over. From there, the collapse was spectacular: nine wickets fell for just 33 runs, leaving the team bowled out for 146 in 19.1 overs. This was not the genius of India’s bowlers alone; it was Pakistan’s chronic inability to consolidate. There was no rotation of strike, no partnerships, no calm in the storm. Once Kuldeep Yadav applied pressure with his 4 for 30, Pakistan’s batting surrendered without resistance.
The inability to adapt against spin was glaring. Pakistan looked as though they had not prepared for Kuldeep, or for a pitch that demanded control over slogging. A serious team would have devised a plan: attack the weaker spinners, rotate relentlessly, and deny India their rhythm. Instead, Pakistan’s strategy was to swing blindly and hope for a rescue. No one came.
The collapse revealed deeper fragilities. Fakhar’s dismissal at 46 and Saim Ayub’s cheap wicket exposed a middle order utterly incapable of absorbing pressure. Salman Ali Agha, entrusted with leadership, scratched to eight before falling to Kuldeep. Mohammad Haris, coming off a decent tournament, departed for a duck. By the end, Pakistan’s lower order resembled a procession, not a batting lineup.
Fielding and mental lapses compounded the disaster. This final was not an isolated failure but the culmination of a pattern: run-out blunders, missed chances, and avoidable mistakes across the tournament. In big matches, these small margins separate contenders from pretenders. Pakistan, once again, proved they belong to the latter category.
Yet even with a modest 146 to defend, the contest was not beyond reach. Low totals can be defended with precision bowling, choke-hold pressure, and tactical bravery. Instead, Pakistan unleashed Haris Rauf. Spell after expensive spell, he hemorrhaged runs, finishing with 3.4 overs for 50, the most expensive figures of the night. It was the single most baffling decision of the final: why persist with a bowler spraying the ball around when spinners along with other ballers were holding an end? Why gift India release when the only hope was suffocation?
This was not captaincy; it was negligence. Salman Agha’s refusal to adjust, his loyalty to reputations over match reality, turned a difficult task into an impossible one. Leadership in cricket is about ruthless calls. Persisting with Haris Rauf was not ruthlessness, it was recklessness.
Haris, for his part, has become the poster boy of Pakistan’s flawed selection policies. Pace without accuracy, hype without reliability. He may dazzle in PSL highlights, but in crunch internationals he is a liability. International cricket is about discipline and consistency, not the occasional “on his day” miracle. Yet he continues to walk into the XI as if by right. This is not meritocracy; it is indulgence.
India, in contrast, showed composure. Reeling at 20 for 3, they steadied through Tilak Varma’s unbeaten 69 off 53 balls. A 60-run partnership with Shivam Dube (33) anchored the chase, and even when Dube fell near the end, Varma calmly struck the decisive six before Rinku Singh hit the winning boundary. Where India trusted method, Pakistan trusted miracles. The result was inevitable.
The deeper sickness lies in Pakistan cricket’s culture of unaccountability. A fragile batting lineup collapses? No consequences. A captain mismanages a final? Silence. A bowler concedes 50 runs without the crucial wickets Pakistan needed? He plays again. This is why mediocrity thrives: because no one is ever truly held responsible.
Pakistan’s defeat should not be remembered only for the scoreboard. It should be remembered as the sum of all its failures: a batting order without backbone, a strategy without imagination, a fielding unit without focus, and a captain without courage.
Until Pakistan stops protecting reputations and starts protecting results, humiliations like this Asia Cup final 2025 in Dubai will not be the exception, they will be the rule.
