A win for the ages, what's next?
After 24 years of playing Test cricket, Bangladesh have managed only 17 wins, while suffering 102 losses. Of those wins, only 5-7 have come against big teams, and victories abroad are even rarer—the most recent being in Rawalpindi against Pakistan.
When Bangladesh lost the Multan Test, I was too young to grasp its significance. By 2005, when Bangladesh stunned the cricketing world by defeating Australia, I could sense something extraordinary had happened. But it was the 2007 World Cup when I truly began to understand the game. That tournament saw Bangladesh humble India in the group stage and outclass South Africa in the Super Eight.
At that point, the natural trajectory of Bangladesh cricket seemed poised for upward momentum. Wins like these should have become regular. However, the dream was stifled—thwarted by the selfish actions of a few and the lack of vision in the system. Despite the nation's passion, the cricket infrastructure failed to reach international standards. While a few talented cricketers emerged over the years, there were never enough to mount a sustained challenge against the top teams.
As a result, victories against major cricketing nations have remained infrequent. After 24 years of playing Test cricket, Bangladesh have managed only 17 wins, while suffering 102 losses. Of those wins, only 5-7 have come against big teams, and victories abroad are even rarer—the most recent being in Rawalpindi against Pakistan.
The lingering question remains: how long must we wait for the next victory over a formidable opponent? Why do our cricketers struggle to replicate the processes that lead to success? After decades of Test cricket, why has Bangladesh failed to unlock the formula for consistent wins against top-tier teams?
In these 24 years, Bangladesh has yet to produce a batsman with an average above 40. The team has also struggled to develop a bowling attack capable of consistently taking 20 wickets in a Test match—a fundamental requirement for victory. What's most concerning is the tendency among Bangladesh cricket's stakeholders to overlook recurring failures after a single, unexpected triumph. It's as if they're waiting for one moment of glory to cover up all the past missteps—a convenient excuse to shirk responsibility.
The state of Bangladesh's cricket infrastructure is fragile, stagnating in a vicious cycle of mediocrity. As former national captain Khaled Mashud Pilot remarked, "There isn't a single person in this country who doesn't love cricket. But corruption, a lack of foresight, and poor planning have kept us from advancing."
Mashud explains the corruption: "It's everywhere. In Bangladesh, cricketers emerge from two primary sources: BKSP and the district sports organizations. Fewer players are coming out of BKSP now, and the district sports bodies are steeped in corruption. Genuine cricket people don't get the opportunity to work."
While other nations have evolved and improved, Bangladesh remains stuck. One good performance is followed by ten lackluster outings. The nation has yet to find worthy successors for stars like Shakib, Tamim, and Mushfiqur—players who have carried the team for years. Khaled Mashud adds, "When we played, we were the best. Then came Mashrafe and Shakib, who were even better. By now, players better than them should have emerged. But without a proper league, players won't fall from the sky. We need regular leagues and a complete overhaul of the infrastructure."
His message is clear: Bangladesh cricket desperately needs reform. Corruption must be eradicated from the grassroots, regular leagues should be organized, and young talents must be nurtured and guided.
Moreover, the players themselves seem to lack the drive to push their limits. This complacency partly stems from the lack of competition for spots. When Sadman Islam scores 93 in one innings, he might believe his place in the next five Tests is secure. One more decent innings, and he's set. But in countries like India, players like Shubman Gill and Yashasvi Jaiswal are constantly challenging legends like Kohli and Rohit with their performances, keeping the pressure on. Bangladesh, by contrast, lacks such a pipeline of talent.
There's also the issue of pitches. In Pakistan, for example, wickets are often compared to highways—perfect for batsmen. Bangladesh's batsmen, too, have shown they can score runs on good surfaces, but playing on the slow, unpredictable pitches of Mirpur and Chattogram dulls their skills. The rare occasion they play on a sporting wicket, it's as if their dormant talent resurfaces. It's crucial for Bangladesh's cricket authorities to focus on creating better wickets at home.
In essence, Bangladesh cricket stands at a crossroads. Reforms in infrastructure, the upliftment of domestic cricket, and the cultivation of competition among players must begin now. If not, we will be left clinging to these sporadic victories, while our cricketers remain trapped in a cycle of inconsistency. And we, as a cricketing nation, will find ourselves no further than where we were 24 years ago when we first embarked on this journey.