Rohit Sharma falling to his knees with his arms up in the air as Hardik Pandya bowled the last delivery of the match to Anrich Nortje on the 29th of June, 2024, is a memory ingrained in every Indian cricket fan’s mind. As Rohit slammed his palms on the ground, he had reached his peak as the Indian captain, the weight of a decade of unfulfilled dreams finally lifted. But little did he know that from that moment, the fall would be steep and the descent—relentless. After a fairly good series with the bat in Sri Lanka, things took a drastic turn in red-ball cricket for the Indian skipper.
India vs Bangladesh:
42 runs | 4 innings | 10.50 average | 95.45 strike rate
India vs New Zealand:
91 runs | 6 innings | 15.17 average | 68.42 strike rate
Border-Gavaskar Trophy:
31 runs | 5 innings | 6.20 average | 28.18 strike rate
Three below-par series after his white-ball dominance led to severe criticism for the skipper. The scrutiny mounted, and ultimately, it all boiled down to Rohit being dropped from the much-anticipated final match of the Border-Gavaskar Trophy in Sydney.
To those present at the SCG on January 2nd, an uneasy silence hung in the air and a nervous energy buzzed through the ground. Gautam Gambhir walked in for a press conference following a controversial ‘dressing room leak’. When asked about the playing XI, his response was curt:
“What will be your playing XI” asked a reporter
“We will decide after looking at the pitch” replied Gambhir
“What about Rohit?” interjected the reporter
“My answer remains the same”
The message was clear, there were no guarantees for the captain anymore.
With India’s practice session scheduled an hour later, all eyes were on Rohit. He walked into the nets without his pads, just lingering, chatting. His demeanour lacked the confidence of a man assured of his place. Moments later, he returned, padded up—all eyes were fixed on the captain, analysing every shot, searching for signs of form. But with each delivery, concern only grew. The session ended in the most telling way—Rohit shouldered arms to a straight ball that crashed into his stumps. Even his defensive shots against throwdowns found the toe of his bat. For those of us watching from the sidelines, it wasn’t just about technical flaws, Rohit was battling demons within.
The Mental Toll of a Slump
To be dropped as India’s captain is not just a tactical decision; it is a public humiliation of the highest order. For a batter of Rohit’s stature, struggling with form is one thing, but to have his place in the team questioned, and fans claiming that the only thing guaranteeing Rohit a place in the team was the ‘(C)’ next to his name in the team list. The murmurs within the cricketing fraternity grew louder: Was Rohit still good enough?
Rohit admitted to having built a thick skin, but in the brutal battlefield of Indian cricket, is that ever enough, when some of your fiercest critics are the team’s own fans?
To quote Sports Psychologist Dr. Mark Anderson
“An athlete doesn’t just lose confidence; it gets chipped away, one failure at a time.” And Rohit’s failures were no longer private, they were dissected by millions.
A Testament to Mental Strength
Despite the storm, Rohit retained his place as India’s white-ball captain after the T20 World Cup. But concerns remained. Two Ranji matches yielded unconvincing dismissals, and in the first ODI against England, Rohit once again struggled to find fluency.
As England won back-to-back tosses and posted a daunting 304, the stage was set for either redemption or another ‘Sydney’ debacle. With a surface that had little purchase for bowlers, and an opportunity to silence the critics questioning his place in the team in the Champions Trophy squad—despite looking out of touch for the past couple of months, Rohit did what champions do, he grabbed the opportunity by the throat.
A 119-run knock in just 90 deliveries, striking at 132.2, was his answer to the critics. The numbers mattered, but what stood out was the intent. The weight of self-doubt, public scrutiny, and captaincy pressure that he had carried—and in that innings, he batted it off.
“I broke it down into pieces about how I wanted to bat. It’s a big format, and you need to assess as you go through each part of the innings,” Rohit said in the post-match presentation.
And therein lay the key to his comeback. He didn’t just rebuild his form; he rebuilt himself. Great comebacks aren’t about numbers. They are about the human spirit refusing to break. Kobe Bryant once said, “Everything negative—pressure, challenges—is all an opportunity for me to rise.”
And Rohit rose, not just as a batter but as an athlete—who is a human being at the end of the day—dealing with the unnatural attention, scrutiny and pressure that comes with his job. He proved what sheer mental resilience can achieve in the brutal battlefield of Indian cricket.