When did cricket lose its fandom in Pakistan?

I remember when the sound of a cricket match on the television in the background felt as natural as the fan buzzing overhead. Cricket wasn’t just a sport in Pakistan; it was a cultural moment. During intense matches, I used to sit on the edge of my sofa, judging every delivery with my siblings, screaming at the television during a boundary or a wicket, scrolling through Twitter for real-time memes, and planning my whole life around these match schedules. This sport united us from tape ball cricket in narrow streets to full-blown rooftop celebrations after iconic wins.

But something has changed.

I’ve felt it within myself and observed it in those around me. Friends who once cancelled hangouts to catch a live match now scroll through highlights a day later, if at all. The question that silently boggles our minds is Why? Why do we not get excited for International Cricket Tournaments as we used to before? Why do the most passionate seasonal fans who used to follow the whole Pakistan Super League (PSL) seem to be uninterested? Why is the excitement that was once palpable in the air regarding this sport fading? Pakistan Cricket seems to be in a state of doldrums, with even hardcore fans struggling to maintain their previous level of engagement.

The recent ICC Champions Trophy 2025, the first international tournament in the country after a decade, was supposed to be a moment of national pride. The stadiums should’ve been overflowing with green shirts, and the noise should’ve been deafening. Instead, there was a series of uninspired performances and a subdued audience. Pakistan failed to win a single match on our home ground. But worse than these losses is that no one seemed shocked anymore. The disappointment has turned into expectation.

One of the most visible signs of our decline is the form and fitness of our players, many of whom appear tired and unfit. But the real issue goes deeper — it’s not about individuals, but the system behind them.

Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) has seen four different chairmen from September 2021 till now. This constant shuffle trickles down — new chairmen bring in new management, fresh coaching staff, and different cricketing philosophies. There’s no continuity, no long-term planning. Instead, every new regime throws out the last one’s strategy, starting from scratch again. The result? A confused dressing room, unclear roles, and a national team that looks as uncertain as the board managing it.

One of the PSL franchises, Multan Sultans’ owner, Ali Tareen, recently appeared on a podcast, Ultra Edge on Crikwick. Speaking to host Roha Nadeem, he said how the management of PCB can claim the tenth edition of Pakistan Super League to be bigger & better with the same teams, same four venues, without any new strategies and innovations. The concerns he raised echo wider frustrations — that Pakistan cricket has failed to leverage its potential and prestige in meaningful ways. PSL, starting from April 11th, marking its 10th edition, failed to evolve as a brand.

READ: PSL Season 10: Match Times, Schedule, and Live Stream – Everything You Need to Know

And this is exactly what’s so disheartening as a viewer. It’s not just that we’re losing matches — it’s that we don’t seem to be learning anything from them.

In contrast, the other nations’ boards like Cricket Australia and the BCCI have both made long-term investments in youth development, fitness standards, and domestic cricket, and it shows in the consistency of their national sides. Meanwhile, Pakistan’s domestic structure continues to shift with each new administration, players complain about selection biases, and allegations of internal rifts never seem too far from the headlines.

This political interference in cricket has become suffocating. Last year, when PCB Chairman Mohsin Naqvi was asked how much he knew about the game, he responded bluntly: “Time will tell.” Six months on, time has spoken — and the results are not encouraging. Under his leadership, Pakistan exited a home tournament with zero wins and little sense of direction. While Naqvi is not solely to blame, the question remains: Why are we still treating cricket as a political seat, not a professional responsibility?

As fans, we’ve tried to hold on. We told ourselves it was just a rough patch. We waited through rebuilding phases. We believed in the next generation. But the passion that once defined our identity as a cricket-loving nation is dimming. Because it feels like no one at the top — whether in the dressing room or the boardroom — truly values what this game once meant to the people.

Yes, there are memories. Who can forget the 1992 World Cup win under Imran Khan, or the 2009 T20 World Cup? The 2017 Champions Trophy final against India remains one of our greatest modern moments. But those are history, and a nation cannot live on nostalgia alone.

There is a generation growing up today who doesn’t remember Saeed Anwar’s elegance, Shoaib Akhtar’s thunderbolts, or Shahid Afridi’s impossible sixes. What will they fall in love with?

This isn’t about the stats or scorecards. It’s about the ache in every fan who once believed in their team. The cricket we loved wasn’t perfect, but it had heart. Now, we see a team that looks as tired as its viewers feel. The hope is still there — somewhere — but it’s buried under years of mismanagement, broken promises, and lost magic.

I wrote this piece as a fan who wants to care again, feel that pride, want to turn the TV back on, and feel something!

About Author:

This article is contributed on Times of Karachi by Rabiya Batavia, a second-year Mass Communication student at the University of Karachi, She’s a freelance graphic designer, product photographer and occasionally writes.

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