The Ajit Agarkar–led selection committee, along with head coach Gautam Gambhir, deserve close to full marks for India’s T20 World Cup squad announced on Saturday, December 20. It is difficult to poke holes in its construction. With Sanju Samson restored to the top of the order alongside Abhishek Sharma, India have doubled down on a fearless, high-octane opening combination — a double engine capable of blowing teams away in the powerplay and unlocking the depth of a hugely talented batting order.
And yet, one name missing from the list ensured the debate was inevitable.
What, exactly, was Shubman Gill’s fault?
To understand the magnitude of the omission, one must rewind just a few months. As recently as August, Gill was not merely part of India’s future plans — he was the plan. He was touted internally as the next all-format captain, entrusted with leadership responsibilities that very few players of his age have ever received. He was made India’s Test captain for the new World Test Championship cycle. He was handed the ODI captaincy even with Rohit Sharma available, fresh off leading India to a Champions Trophy triumph in March.
There was little doubt: Indian cricket believed it had found its next star boy, its long-term leader across formats.
AN UNFORESEEN U-TURN
That belief shaped decisions in T20 cricket too — and this is where India briefly drifted from its own successful template. The Samson–Abhishek opening pair, which had thrived on risk-heavy, strike-rate-driven aggression, was broken up to accommodate Gill at the top. It was a move rooted in faith, hierarchy and future planning rather than immediate T20 logic.
Questions inevitably followed. Why fix something that was not broken? Especially when Samson had smashed three T20I hundreds in the space of a few weeks as an opener.
India persisted. The Gill experiment was not abandoned in haste. It ran for 15 T20Is — long enough to provide clarity. Gill finished with 291 runs at an average of 24.25 and a strike rate of 137.26. Respectable numbers in isolation, but underwhelming when stacked against what Samson and Abhishek were delivering — strike rates north of 180, setting the tone from ball one.
The issue was not Gill’s class. It was fit.
Gill, by nature, is not a bulldozer. Even in the IPL, where he scores in truckloads, he is a precise surgeon rather than a blunt instrument. He accumulates, builds, and then accelerates. That method has brought him success across formats — but in this Indian T20 setup, on flat sub-continental decks, India did not need an accumulator at the top. They needed chaos merchants.
So came the bold call — perhaps later than ideal, but necessary. Gill was not merely removed as vice-captain; he was left out of the squad altogether. The selectors cited combination concerns rather than a judgement on his ability. The blow was sharpened by timing — Gill was informed only after the selection meeting had concluded.
Yes, the right call was made. But it raises an unavoidable question: did Indian cricket drag Gill unnecessarily into a role that was never designed for him?
How often does a vice-captain — who leads the national side in the other two formats — find himself dropped on the eve of a World Cup?
POWERFUL PARALLEL
The situation, as jarring as it feels, has a powerful historical parallel.
In 2011, Rohit Sharma found himself on the outside of a World Cup squad — a painful experience that would have tested the confidence of any young player. Despite being a member of the 2007 ICC T20 World Cup–winning side and showing promise in ODIs, Rohit was not included in India’s 15-man squad for the 2011 Cricket World Cup held on home soil. At 24, with a career that had offered flashes of brilliance but also inconsistency, his omission was a stark reminder that talent alone does not guarantee selection.
The reasons were multifaceted. One former selector later revealed that there had initially been support for Rohit’s inclusion, but a late preference by captain MS Dhoni for a spinning all-round option reshaped the final composition of the squad.
Rohit himself has admitted that the snub hurt deeply. In interviews reflecting on the experience, he said that watching the tournament from home was so difficult that he chose not to watch many of India’s matches at all. The emotional sting was real.
Rather than allowing that frustration to fester, Rohit chose to use the exclusion as fuel for improvement. His childhood coach has described the snub as a wake-up call — one that forced Rohit to recommit to his preparation, work ethic and mindset. When he returned to India’s limited-overs squad later in 2011, his performances began to show greater purpose and a clearer understanding of his role.
By 2013, the transformation was undeniable. India’s leadership promoted Rohit up the order in ODIs, pairing him with Shikhar Dhawan at the top — a move that reshaped India’s white-ball batting.
That was only the beginning. Over the next decade, Rohit went on to become one of the finest batters the format has seen. He led India in a home World Cup in the same format 12 years later, reinvented the way the side approached white-ball cricket by leading from the front, and, as captain, delivered two ICC titles in the space of six months before stepping away.
Yes, Gill may not have the heart to watch India in the T20 World Cup 2026. That would be entirely human. To see a tournament you were preparing for — one you were once central to — unfold without you can be a uniquely isolating experience for a cricketer at his peak.
But if history is any guide, absence does not always signal abandonment. Sometimes, it creates clarity.
Gill does not need to rage against the decision or question his worth. His stature in Indian cricket is already secure. He leads in two formats, carries the trust of the ecosystem, and remains one of the finest batters of his generation. A T20 World Cup omission — even one that arrives abruptly — does not erase that. What it does offer is something rarer: perspective.
– Ends
