One-Day Cricket: Stuck in No Man’s Land!

One-day cricket finds itself in an uncertain space — caught between the fast-paced thrill of T20s and the tradition of Tests. Once the perfect balance of skill, strategy, and endurance, the 50-over format has been pushed aside. The Asia Cup has switched to T20, bilateral ODI series are being trimmed, and ICC Future Tours Programme allocations keep shrinking. Broadcasters prefer T20s for their fixed three-hour slot, while ODIs risk rain interruptions and unpredictable lengths.

The result is a format slowly losing its identity. Are we heading toward a pro-40 model instead of the traditional 50 overs?

Will and Skill: The Grassroots Crisis

The real problem isn’t just whether teams have ODI skills — it’s whether those skills are being developed at all. Domestic 50-over tournaments are disappearing worldwide. State associations prefer T20 leagues for cost and scheduling, while first-class cricket focuses on red-ball skills. Many players now reach international level having played fewer than 20–30 proper 50-over matches in their career.

This creates a vicious cycle: without exposure, players struggle at international level, making the format less appealing. The muscle memory of pacing an innings over 50 overs is simply not being built.

On top of this, most domestic T20 leagues offer far greater financial rewards than 50-over cricket. Young players naturally gravitate to formats that bring faster recognition. The will to master ODIs fades when the pathway offers fewer opportunities.

The Forgotten Art of Strike Rotation

Over the last few years, teams have increasingly failed to bat through 50 overs, often folding early. The middle overs — once the engine room of ODI batting — have become a graveyard.

 The most underrated skill in ODI cricket is strike rotation. If you look at Virat Kohli’s record, his strike rate remains impressive despite not hitting an extraordinary number of boundaries. That’s because he mastered the art of turning over the strike, building around the occasional four. In ODIs, risk is always calculated: a boundary every 2–3 overs, combined with smart singles, allows you to keep the scoreboard ticking at 6–7 runs per over without gambling your wicket.

 What we see too often now is the opposite — players going for two boundaries an over and getting stuck with too many dot balls in the process. A batter might hit a four off the first ball but still end the over with just five runs because the rest were dots. The real key is building around that boundary: four singles plus one four gets you eight runs without risk, compared to one boundary followed by five dots for just five runs.

This isn’t just about individual overs — it’s about sustained pressure on the bowling side. When batters consistently rotate strike, they force captains to keep changing fields, prevent bowlers from settling into rhythm, and create opportunities for the loose delivery. The psychological impact is immense: bowlers become frustrated when they can’t build dot-ball pressure, leading to the very mistakes that good ODI batters capitalize on.

The mathematics are compelling, but the execution requires patience. That boundary every 2–3 overs approach, supplemented by regular strike rotation, transforms modest-looking totals. This subtle craft is what turns 270–280 scores into 320–330 ones — the difference between a competitive and a commanding total.

The ripple effect is clear: teams start strong in the powerplay but lose momentum in the middle. By the final 10 overs they’re either short of wickets or forced into desperate acceleration, leading to collapses. The middle overs become about survival rather than progression, exactly the opposite of what makes ODI batting compelling.

 England’s 2019 World Cup campaign exemplifies the opposite problem perfectly. Despite their aggressive reputation, they frequently collapsed when their power-hitting approach failed. Against Sri Lanka, they went from 186/1 to 212 all out, unable to adapt when boundary-hitting became difficult. Compare this to New Zealand in the same tournament — teams like Kane Williamson and Ross Taylor consistently found ways to keep the scoreboard moving even when boundaries dried up.

Bowling: Patience Over Panic

The same problem affects bowlers. Just as batters need the discipline to rotate strike, bowlers need the patience to deliver consistent 2–3 run overs without panicking. But T20 conditioning has made many of them reactive.

The classic example: a bowler concedes a boundary early in the over, then chases the “magic ball” instead of sticking to his plan. Five good balls followed by a loose delivery still makes it an eight-run over. Pressure built is pressure wasted.

Just as a batter’s dots cancel out their boundaries, a bowler’s one mistake cancels out their discipline. ODI bowling requires the calm acceptance that a boundary doesn’t ruin the over — but a lapse in patience does.

Equally, teams have leaned too heavily on defensive all-rounders. Containing runs without taking wickets in the middle overs achieves little. Successful ODI sides persist with genuine wicket-takers, because dismissals — not dot-ball pressure alone — change games. India exemplifies this with specialists like Kuldeep, Chahal, or Jadeja, who attack even if they sometimes concede. Conceding 150 runs with four wickets is more valuable than 130 runs with none.

Australia’s recent struggles highlight this perfectly. Their reliance on Marcus Stoinis, Glenn Maxwell, and part-time bowlers in middle overs often leaves them toothless when established batters settle in. Without specialist wicket-takers like a prime Shane Warne or Stuart MacGill, they’re reduced to hoping batters make mistakes rather than creating dismissals. 

Doing the “Boring Job” & Reading Conditions

The most undervalued aspect of ODI batting, especially in the middle overs, is what can only be called doing the boring job — rotating strike consistently over long stretches, keeping the scoreboard moving at 5–6 runs per over for 15–17 overs. It might not look flashy, but it lays the platform for acceleration later. This requires patience, discipline, and self-control — qualities that seem to be fading in modern batting.

The psychological challenge is immense. Batters must resist the T20-conditioned urge for immediate gratification, accepting that building an innings is more valuable than individual highlights. It’s about understanding that a solid 15-over period scoring 85-90 runs without losing wickets is infinitely more valuable than a flashy 50 off 25 balls that leaves the team five wickets down.

This boring job isn’t just about individual technique — it’s about partnership batting. The best ODI pairs communicate constantly, ensuring the strike keeps rotating, taking calculated risks only when the bowler offers them. They understand that momentum in ODIs is built gradually, not in explosive bursts. Equally crucial is reading conditions and setting realistic targets. Not every pitch allows you to score 300–325; sometimes 250–260 is a winning total. Many teams, in their pursuit of an arbitrary “par” score, end up getting bowled out cheaply when the conditions don’t warrant aggressive strokeplay. Great ODI batting is about awareness — understanding how the wicket is behaving, what bowling attack you’re facing, and adjusting accordingly.

India’s 2023 World Cup campaign perfectly exemplifies this approach in action. Their dominance wasn’t built on explosive powerplay hitting or death-overs carnage — it was constructed through methodical middle-overs batting. Whether scoring 397 against New Zealand or defending 229 against England, the template remained consistent: Indian batters took it deep, refused to throw their wickets away, and allowed the innings to build naturally.

The statistics tell the story: Kohli’s 765 runs came at a strike rate of just 90.31, yet he was the tournament’s leading run-scorer. Shreyas Iyer averaged 67 while rotating strike beautifully. KL Rahul’s innings construction was exemplary — he understood his role as the middle-order anchor, allowing others to play around him. Even their big totals weren’t built through T20-style hitting but through sustained pressure over 35-40 overs.

Most tellingly, India’s approach worked regardless of conditions. On turning tracks in Delhi and Mumbai, they posted competitive totals by refusing to panic when boundaries were hard to find. Against pace-friendly attacks, they absorbed pressure and found ways to keep the scoreboard moving. This adaptability — reading conditions and adjusting accordingly — is what modern ODI teams lack.

The contrast with other teams was stark. England’s batting collapses, Australia’s middle-order fragility, and Pakistan’s inconsistency all stemmed from the same problem: an inability to construct ODI innings properly. They’d either get bogged down completely or try to force the pace and lose wickets in clusters. India’s batters mastered the art of doing the boring job — excelling at rotating strike, building partnerships, and finding boundaries without gambling their wickets.

Captaincy: The Defensive Trap

 Perhaps the most damaging T20 influence has been on ODI captaincy. Captains have become overly defensive, applying short-format thinking to a longer game that rewards patience and calculated aggression.

 The middle overs often expose this mindset. Instead of setting attacking fields and backing wicket-takers, captains opt for defensive fields and “safe” all-rounders. In T20s you can survive a quiet middle phase, but in ODIs this hands the initiative to the batting side.

Consider the contrasting approaches of MS Dhoni versus many current ODI captains. Dhoni would often bring Ravindra Jadeja or Ravichandran Ashwin into the attack during partnerships, setting close catchers and slip fielders even in the middle overs. He understood that taking wickets changes the entire complexion of an ODI innings. Modern captains, by contrast, often deploy defensive rings from overs 15-40, hoping to contain rather than create breakthroughs.

This defensive mindset extends to field placements. Where Dhoni might have had a slip and short cover for his spinners, creating genuine chances, today’s captains prefer sweepers on both sides and mid-on pushed back. The message to bowlers is clear: don’t concede boundaries, rather than take wickets. This approach might limit immediate damage, but it rarely produces the gamechanging moments that define successful ODI sides.

Pakistan’s 2017 Champions Trophy campaign offers a perfect counter-example. Sarfaraz Ahmed consistently backed his strike bowlers — Hassan Ali, Mohammad Amir, and Shadab Khan — with attacking fields throughout the middle overs. Even when they occasionally went for runs, the wicket-taking approach ultimately proved match-winning. Their semi-final against England and the final against India were won precisely because they attacked when other captains would have defended.

Smart ODI captaincy means being proactive — accepting the early single, bowling to your fields, and backing specialists to break partnerships. It’s not about limiting damage, but about creating game-changing moments. Teams that forget this rarely bowl opponents out; those that remember it control matches.

Where Does ODI Cricket Go From Here?

The future of the format depends on whether cricket boards address the grassroots decline. Even if multi-day cricket cannot thrive everywhere, 50-over competitions must be preserved. Without them, international cricket will only produce players trained for T20, leaving ODIs in limbo.

The solutions require both structural changes and financial commitments:

Mandatory Domestic Requirements: Cricket boards should mandate that every Full Member nation runs at least a 10-team, home-and-away 50-over competition annually. The ICC could make this a condition for receiving development funding or hosting rights for major tournaments.

 Financial Restructuring: Currently, T20 leagues offer astronomical rewards while 50-over cricket pays modestly. Boards need to create meaningful financial incentives — perhaps match fees for domestic 50-over cricket should be double those of T20 competitions. Prize pools for domestic one-day tournaments should rival those of T20 leagues.

Player Pathway Requirements: Young players shouldn’t be eligible for international ODI selection without having played a minimum number of domestic 50-over matches. This forces development pathways to take the format seriously.

Broadcasting Innovation: The ICC should negotiate broadcast deals that specifically protect ODI cricket’s scheduling and coverage. Perhaps a minimum number of ODI matches per bilateral series, or guaranteed prime-time slots for major ODI tournaments.

 Coaching Certification: National coaching programs should include mandatory modules on ODI-specific skills — strike rotation, middle-over bowling, innings construction. Coaches who can’t teach these skills shouldn’t be coaching at elite levels.

Tournament Structure: The ICC could experiment with a global 50-over league system, similar to the World Test Championship, where bilateral ODI series contribute to an annual championship. This gives every ODI match meaning and ensures regular scheduling. Strike rotation, innings construction, wicket-taking patience, and situational awareness don’t appear overnight — they are habits built through repetition. The current system produces players who can hit sixes and bowl yorkers but struggle with the subtle arts that make ODI cricket compelling.

The 50-over game still offers unmatched tactical depth: skill, patience, and calculation. But if ignored, it risks turning into nothing more than an extended T20. The “forgotten art” of ODI cricket is worth saving — but only if we invest in teaching and practicing the skills that make it unique.

Without these changes, we’ll continue watching international teams stumble through ODI series, unable to bat 50 overs or bowl with patience. The format that once showcased cricket’s complete skill set will become a relic — entertaining occasionally, but lacking the substance that made it special. The choice is clear: invest in ODI cricket’s unique demands now, or watch it fade into irrelevance.