Sanju Samson: The Unfinished Journey of a Cricket Talent
Sanju Samson’s international career has never lacked talent or theatre. What it has lacked, stubbornly and repeatedly, is certainty. A World Cup Player of the Tournament one month, a name missing from the next squad the following month. A hero in Ireland, a passenger in England. For a decade now, Samson has lived on the fault line between brilliance and the bench.
Ravichandran Ashwin has seen enough.
The senior India spinner has put words to what many around Indian cricket have only hinted at: this stop-start handling of Samson is no longer just a selection quirk, it is a mental battle.
A decade of doors opening and slamming shut
Samson first walked into the India dressing room in 2014, a gifted wicketkeeper-batter from Kerala with clean hitting and a calm head. He was meant to be part of the next wave. Instead, his journey has felt like a series of auditions, never the full role.
Ashwin underlined exactly that. Samson has rarely been allowed to build a career in straight lines. A few games here, a gap there, a recall, a short leash. Even when he has delivered, the reward has not always been continuity.
If you are Samson, won't you feel that you did brilliantly in the World Cup and then in Ireland all the batters struggled. Then he failed one game in England and got dropped, he must be experiencing difficult mental battles and wondering why no one understands his position. His journey hasn't been easy, considering he started in 2014,
Ashwin said.
The words cut to the core of Samson’s reality. This is not a youngster trying to break through anymore. This is a 10-year story still being treated like a trial.
From World Cup peak to another cold shoulder
The contrast is stark. At the 2026 ICC Men’s T20 World Cup, Samson didn’t just play his part; he owned the stage. He walked away with the Player of the Tournament award, a title that usually secures players a long rope, not a short fuse.
He carried that form into Ireland, standing out again in conditions where most of India’s batters struggled. The arc seemed to bend finally in his favour.
Then came the slide.
Three successive failures in T20Is, and the patience snapped. For the second T20I against England in July, Samson found himself out of the XI. In his place, India turned to young Vaibhav Sooryavanshi, a move that sent a clear signal: even after a World Cup of that magnitude, Samson was still auditioning.
He returned for the final game of the series, but the revolving door did not stop. When India named their T20I squad for the Zimbabwe tour, Samson’s name was missing again. Another reset. Another stretch of uncertainty.
His next chance arrived against Afghanistan. Back in the XI for the opening T20I, he faced eight balls and scored 10. One innings, one failure, one more round of questions.
Playing under the shadow of another name
Ashwin believes the pressure on Samson is no longer just about his own numbers. It is about the constant comparisons, the sense that every run he scores or misses is tied to someone else’s fate.
He pointed specifically to the dynamic with Sooryavanshi.
When he plays well, people give the feeling of saying, 'I told you so that time itself'. Yet, when he fails, they'll say he never plays well and is inconsistent so they put pressure on him. You are never sure if the accusation from people is about Samson failing or about Vaibhav Sooryavanshi sitting out because of him playing. You wonder how it'll feel to be Sanju Samson,
Ashwin added.
That is a brutal place for any player to live. Every innings becomes a referendum, not just on his talent, but on the team’s choices. Every failure becomes ammunition. Every success is framed as overdue.
For someone who has already carried India through a World Cup campaign, that kind of scrutiny cuts deeper.
The mental toll of a short leash
Elite sport is ruthless. Players get dropped. Competition is fierce. Samson knows that better than most. What Ashwin is questioning is not the existence of competition, but the length of the rope given to a player who has already delivered at the highest level.
The pattern is clear. Samson shines, gets a brief run, stumbles once or twice, and the axe falls quickly. Others endure longer dips with more security. Samson walks the tightrope every game.
This is where the mental strain creeps in. When a batter walks out not just to score runs, but to justify his very presence, the bat feels heavier. One mistake feels fatal. One low score can undo months of work.
Ashwin’s comments drag that invisible battle into the open. Samson is not just fighting bowlers and conditions. He is fighting perception, memory, and the ever-present threat of being the easiest name to drop.
And that leaves a sharp question hanging over Indian cricket: how long can a team afford to keep its World Cup Player of the Tournament living on trial?
