The Rivalry: With India miles ahead of Pakistan, contest lacks on-ground hype

Sunday’s Asia Cup clash between India and Pakistan in Dubai is supposed to be one of those marquee fixtures that electrifies the room, captures imaginations and resets the bar for tension, drama and anticipation. On paper, all the elements are there: arch-rivals, geopolitical tension, seasoned match-winners in the Indian lineup, a looming T20 World Cup, and history. Yet despite it all, this particular meeting is being greeted with a noticeably muted buzz. The energy that usually precedes an India-Pakistan match feels somehow flattened. And when you scratch beneath the surface, you see a mix of reasons why the contest is strangely lacking its usual crescendo of excitement. To start with, the imbalance of strength between the two sides is obvious to many. India’s squad is deep, menacing, polished. Batters like Shubman Gill, Suryakumar Yadav and Abhishek Sharma are supported by a potent bowling attack led by Jasprit Bumrah, and spinners like Kuldeep Yadav and Varun Chakravarthy who can turn a match around. Pakistan, on the other hand, are in a rebuilding phase under their new captain, Salman Ali Agha. Key players are absent and there is a sense of inconsistency in their form. When one side looks far more likely to dominate, it often takes away some of the tension, the uncertainty, that builds hype. Fans and pundits tend to lean toward predictions when the contest looks lopsided, which reduces that edge of surprise. Another factor is the absence of several iconic names who in past encounters have brought the emotional weight, the stories, the “must-watch” factor. India no longer has Rohit Sharma and Virat Kohli in T20 internationals; Pakistan is playing without stalwarts like Babar Azam and Mohammad Rizwan. These figures are not just statistics—they are personalities who attract attention, who bring loyal followings, who make headline moments out of ordinary ones. Their absence has left a vacuum in star power. For many fans, a big rivalry game isn’t just about the match; it’s about seeing familiar names, signature styles, comeback arcs, and personal feuds. Without these, there’s something missing in the narrative. Then there’s the political and social context, which has added a layer of complication. Tensions across the border have risen in recent months, including military skirmishes, diplomatic spats, and public outcry after events such as the Pahalgam attacks. Some in the Indian public have questioned the appropriateness of staging the clash in this moment, wondering if playing enhances normalcy too quickly. Others argue that sport should transcend politics. Meanwhile, there are calls for boycott, civic discomfort, emotionally raw memories. All this has dampened the willingness of some to celebrate or build fanfare around the fixture. In this atmosphere, rather than unity or rivalry, many feel a heaviness, or at least restraint. On the commercial side, ticket sales reportedly have been tepid. Media outlets and social media chatter seem more cautious, more divided. Some fans are reluctant, conflicted. Some broadcasters and brands may also be wary of overtly promoting something that could provoke backlash. With missing star players, with public debates about morality and sporting legitimacy, building marketing momentum becomes harder. The usual machinery of hype—promotions, talk shows, pre-match banter, old rival stories—doesn’t seem to be firing at full throttle, whether by choice or because people believe there’s less to celebrate. The timing too plays a part. This match is being played in a multi-team tournament, not a direct bilateral series, which tends to reduce emotional build-up. And while there is the added significance of the T20 World Cup on home soil for India in a few months, that kind of distant target doesn’t always generate the same immediate charged energy as a final or knockout. Moreover, when rivalry matches are frequent, or expected, there's sometimes a feeling of “we’ve heard this before” unless something new and dramatic is introduced. Still, this lack of hype doesn’t mean a lack of significance. For India, this match is a reinforcement of dominance, a chance to test bench strength, to show depth. For Pakistan, it’s a moment to assert relevance, to push back, to upset expectations. Captains on both sides have suggested there is no intent to tone things down—asserting that aggression, competitiveness, edge are part of what makes cricket between these two countries what it is. There is political weight, emotional weight, a sense that winning is never just about cricket when these two meet. Fans who do show up, even in smaller numbers, will likely watch with intense interest, because the narrative for them is more about identity, about pride, about healing or assertion—elements that don’t always need hype to matter. Finally, it may be that this subdued buildup is simply a part of a changing era. Rivalries evolve. Generations shift. Social media noise changes how fans engage. The spectacle around a fixture is no longer guaranteed by history alone. With new fan priorities, different media landscapes, and more contexts to consider (political, ethical, emotional), matches—even great ones—can sometimes feel smaller than they are. But often, it is in those quieter moments that unexpected magic happens: players rise, rivalries are reborn, stories get made anew. In the end, despite India being heavy favourites, despite Pakistan’s underdog status, despite all that tilts the scales in one direction, this match still carries weight. Fans will argue about what should have been different, about absences, about political timing. But come match day, when the players are on the field, the tension, the drama, the fierce competitiveness will likely return—because with India vs Pakistan, you simply cannot entirely remove the spark. What’s missing for now is the noise. Whether that matters most will depend on what unfolds under lights in Dubai.