Why Shreyas Iyer is a must-have in India's T20I plans going forward, starting from the Asia Cup

Indian Express

a day ago

Shreyas Iyer's fate is akin to a bachelor searching for a house in a conservative town. The Test doors are firmly shut on him; chairman of selectors Ajit Agarkar has hung the board: 'Right now there's no room in Test cricket.' The doors of ODIs are but ajar, the fall-back option when the more established occupants are injured. Virat Kohli suffered a swollen knee the day before the 50-over series against England in February, and Rohit Sharma speed-dialed Shreyas, who was then watching a movie, late at night. Shreyas is knocking on the gates of T20s—he has the form to barge into the compound—but is waiting outside, watching the regular tenants saunter along, uncertain whether he would join them for the Asia Cup, which could be a stepping stone to the World Cup next year.
In most other times, Shreyas would have been a certainty in white-ball domains at least. But competent white-ball batsmen are popping up like mangoes in Indian summers, meaning he has to bide his time and wait in the queue. Especially in T20s, where India have leapt from strength to strength after the World Cup triumph, losing just three of their last 20 games, despite fielding experimental sides in several series. There is a vast spread of openers to consider; captain Suryakumar Yadav is untouchable, Tilak Varma's recent outings featured back-to-back hundreds. A crew of floaters fulfil the finishing duties—to name but a few Hardik Pandya, Axar Patel, Rinku Singh, Shivam Dube, Washington Sundar. Shreyas finds himself at the tail-end of the queue, considering that the last of his 51 T20Is came in December 2023, a clue perhaps that selectors have moved on from him.
A stroke he unboxed against Burmah during his unbeaten 41-ball 87 exemplified the batting zenith he inhabited. A yorker hummed to the base of middle stump, but with firm yet pliant hands, he detachedly jammed the ball past wicket-keeper for a four. The bat seemed to freeze in its descent – these days it comes from the direction of the gully – before, at the last possible second, it met the ball with an open face and rerouted it to the fence. A four snatched from the jaws of a wicket or broken toe. 'Shot of the season,' exclaimed AB de Villiers, a man who could imagine similar strokes. The only clue to the shot was the back leg backing away to not obstruct the bat's downswing.
It's the best he has batted in an IPL, not in terms of volume alone, but the quality too. He logged his personal best in runs scored (604), average (50.33), strike rate (175), fifties (6), fours (43) and sixes (39), but the numbers, while indicative of his touch, concealed the mastery he wielded, the ludicrous clarity he exhibited, the ability to strip away context, to bat without prejudice, to boil the game down its simplest elements, to cut loose while still somehow remaining in control.
Fours and boundaries he always struck, but seldom all around. He exuded comfort and control against every length. He conquered his old foe, the short-pitched stuff too. He scored 69 runs off short balls, at a strike rate of 172.5 and was dismissed only once. The corresponding number last year was 42 runs at 120. He was brutal when the bowlers bowled in his arc, mercilessly heaving them beyond the fence, often on the leg-side. Against fast bowlers, he has ramped up his strike rate from 145.7 in 2024 to 188 in 2025. At a considerably better average too (24.9 to 44.1). This was the last stroke of brush that completed his portrait as one of the most influential limited-overs batsmen of his time.
A technical tweak aided his recalibration. Ricky Ponting, Punjab Kings coach, explained: 'You guys will see how his stance has evolved. He's opened it up a little bit. He's getting his right eye around more to the release point of the ball. And with his shoulders being open, he's able to create some more access to the ball when the ball is back in towards his body.'
Such numbers, touch, and masterfulness warrant rewards, but recalling him to the national side could cause disruption. Tilak might have to sacrifice his number four slot; Pandya might end up batting further down the order. Dube or Rinku could find themselves out of the eleven. But Shreyas, if he could replicate the IPL touch, is worth the shuffle. Purely because he is a superior batsman to all of them. Unlike Dube, pace does not rankle him any longer and is as prolific as him in destroying spinners; he is a better manipulator of gaps than a Dhruv Jurel and possesses a richer canvas of strokes than Rinku. He can straddle roles—aggressor, enforcer, destroyer, finisher and accumulator (if a need arises); he is flexible to bat anywhere in the order and at any time of the game; no particular length or brand of bowling torments him. He relishes batting under pressure and in big games; he brings experience, temperament, and leadership too.
One of his idols and mentor from India A days, Rahul Dravid once observed: 'One of the things that really stood out about him from the India A days is his temperament, the way he handles success, failure. You just look at even some of his knocks under pressure, how he's able to actually bring the best out of himself under those pressure situations.'
If the pitches turn sluggish, there is no better destroyer of spinners than him. His last T20I knock, a 53 off 37 balls on a slow Chinnaswamy surface where India defended 160, was a classic example. Men in such devastating form, ideally, should not go seat-hunting. The gates should open automatically, and gleefully, to him.