Opening Doorz

By Moody Marty | Opening Doorz Editorial | March 12, 2026

Pandya Playing to the Gallery

The T20 World Cup final is over. But what stands out as a genuine sight for sore eyes is Hardik Pandya’s televised antics. With one swift, childish display of petty nonsense, he managed to drag the celebrations to a new low.

What exactly was his partner doing on the field? The celebration arena isn’t a VIP lounge or a Sunday brunch. We saw this same script with Palash Muchhal appearing on the scene after the Women’s World Cup win, and it’s time the ICC and BCCI draw some strict guidelines.

This isn’t a club floor; it’s a World Cup podium. That moment belongs to the spectators and fans alike, the very people who elevate the game to the global stage. They don’t deserve to see this.

Hardik needs to grow up, and the BCCI needs to stop the cameras before the celebration turns completely crass.

Wives in the arena? Yes. Girlfriends? A big NO.

Hardik is still stuck in the “Main aaj karka aaya” moment; despite the years and the trophies, the maturity level hasn’t moved an inch.

Crores in the Bank, But No Ticket for the Aeroplane?

While one player was occupied with a juvenile camera display, another was reportedly seeking a middle berth. We are told Shivam Dube travelled from Ahmedabad to Mumbai by train.

Is this a publicity peg or a genuine administrative failure? Who is going to tell us the truth? The BCCI announces a ₹131 crore reward for the team. Yet, for a World Cup winner, there is no plane ticket? This is apart from the ₹25 crore winners’ booty.

In a tournament of this magnitude, travel is planned months in advance. Are we seriously expected to believe a member of the winning squad had to scramble for a 3rd AC berth after playing a final of this importance?

I suppose tomorrow we’ll be fed the next “human interest” story through “news” that isn’t news: Dube washing his own jersey because the hotel laundry was full, or cooking his own meals because the kitchen was closed.

What times are we living in? Dube played that final over well; it’s a pity the administrators couldn’t match his performance on the ground with some basic competence off it.

The ‘Tracer Bullet’ Hits a Blank

Then we had Ravi Shastri caught sleeping in the commentary box. The guy who usually speaks like a “Tracer Bullet” was found wanting in the most important moment of the tournament for India.

With Tilak Varma catching Jacob Duffy (the last New Zealand wicket to fall), Shastri confidently announces: “New Zealand are nine wickets down.” Because they were supposedly nine down, Abhishek Sharma had been given a chance to roll his arm over in the 19th over. Shastri should have been ready for the finish.

For a brief second, I wondered whether cricket had suddenly become a 12-man game. Fortunately, it hadn’t. Shastri corrected himself immediately, albeit sheepishly, but he lost the punch of the moment in the bargain. When the historian of the game forgets how to count, the fans are the ones left in the dark.

The Incredible Shrinking Captain

While the youngsters are busy with cameras and train berths, we have the curious case of Rohit Sharma’s vanishing waistline. It is a sight to behold; the rest of him has disappeared, and only the best of him remains. But one has to ask: why now?

Being a sportsman, the focus on the midsection should have started years ago. With a ‘Ranatunga belly’, he was doing little justice to his spot in the side for a long time. The old adage “form is temporary, class is permanent” is a convenient shield, but at the international level, peak fitness is a non-negotiable given. You simply cannot afford to lug around with heavy feet in a sport that has become this fast. I often wondered how he managed to stay so “plum” right in the middle! Pun intended.

I guess with age catching up and the realisation that his spot was no longer a birthright, he decided that being fit was the only way to stay in the conversation for the format he has left.

He is working hard off the field, too, and it’s being caught on camera, often while sitting around the “important people” who hold the keys to the selection room.

Whether this late-career transformation earns him one last hurrah in the forthcoming longer formats or not, it serves as a glaring reminder of what could have been if the discipline had matched the talent a decade ago.

At age 40, will he make it to the World Cup (50 overs) squad in 2027? Maybe.

Forty years ago, in the 1987 Reliance World Cup hosted by India and Pakistan, Zimbabwe’s John Traicos was 40 years old. Forty years later, if Rohit makes it to the team, he too will be 40.

History has a funny way of repeating itself; sometimes as a feat of endurance, and sometimes as a desperate dash for relevance.

[Moody Marty: Sometimes funny, sometimes informative, always downright forthright!]

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