The snow-clad peaks of the Pir Panjal range have long looked down upon a cricketing culture defined by what-ifs. On most winter mornings in Jammu, the outfield wears a thin veil of frost. Fast bowlers love it. Batters endure it. For decades, this was the rhythm of cricket in Jammu & Kashmir: seam-friendly pitches, fleeting promise, and seasons that dissolved before spring. For over sixty years, J&K were the romantic underdogs of the Ranji Trophy.
That changed on a sweltering afternoon in Hubballi, Karnataka. When J&K secured their maiden Ranji Trophy title after overcoming the eight-time champions Karnataka in the final, a watershed moment unfolded. A 291-run first-innings lead and a second-innings batting masterclass had turned the impossible into a foregone conclusion.
The trophy was lifted in 2026, but the first bricks had been laid years earlier, in a radical restructuring that moved J&K from a collection of isolated talents to a professional powerhouse.
For decades, J&K cricket oscillated between promise and frustration. Talent emerged – Parvez Rasool, Umran Malik, Vivrant Sharma – but the structure around it remained inconsistent. Infrastructure lagged. Preparation was regional. Ambition was cautious.
The shift began with a sub-committee formed to rethink everything.
“The main reason I would say is the vision of Mithun Manhas,” said Brigadier Anil Gupta, who was part of that restructuring body along with Manhas and then BCCI secretary Jay Shah.
“He played cricket in J&K and he wanted to make some drastic changes.”
Those changes were both structural and cultural.
“Among those drastic changes was that we selected a coach who was not from here. We selected a captain who was not from J&K. We selected a support staff team that was given continuity.”
THE RED MITTI TRANSFORMATION
And then came the most literal transformation.
“The most significant change was that we created red-mitti wickets in Jammu. When our team used to go and play outside, they used to struggle because there was no practice on red-clay wickets. Once we made that change, the difference was what we saw last year – in Mumbai, we saw the result.”
For years, J&K players had grown up on green surfaces that rewarded seam bowling. But championships in India are often decided on the grind of playing across different types of pitches. Exposure was no longer accidental; it was engineered.
“We backed the talent,” Gupta said. “We wanted the talents to apply themselves.”
PROCESS OVER HYPE
When Ajay Sharma joined as head coach, the framework was in place. What remained was mindset.
“I believe that behind everything there is a proper process,” Sharma said.
From the beginning, expectations were explicit.
“Mithun Manhas also had a vision when he brought me in as coach—he said, brother, we have to win the Ranji Trophy.”
The ambition had evolved.
“Earlier, our aim was just to qualify, but after that it became like – it is a dream, a dream come true, unimaginable.”
Sharma understood that dreams require discipline.
The impact of that change in mindset can be traced to the rise of Abdul Samad this season. Seen as a white-ball specialist after his stints in the IPL, Samad reinvented himself as the backbone of the J&K middle order, finishing the season as the team’s highest run-scorer with 748 runs from 10 matches at an average of 57.
This transition from a muscular T20 hitter to a disciplined red-ball accumulator included a century and five half-centuries. More importantly, it proved that star culture could be dismantled and rebuilt into a championship-winning work ethic.
“When I joined the team, I saw him in the nets and matches. His mindset was white-ball cricket—he wanted to play IPL,” Sharma said of Samad.
“He used to throw his wicket away.”
The message to the squad was blunt.
“IPL is a different format. Until you perform in the Ranji Trophy, you are not a star.”
He enforced it without exception.
“I dropped him because he played a careless shot against Bombay. Here, there is no star culture.”
Practice became a mirror.
“I told all players that if anyone plays careless shots in the nets, I will send him out. Because whatever mindset you have in the nets, you carry into the match.”
THE REDEMPTION OF SAMAD
Six years earlier, an 18-year-old Abdul Samad had walked off after falling 14 runs short of helping J&K secure a first-innings lead in a Ranji Trophy quarter-final against Karnataka. That dismissal lingered.
“I do remember that match,” Samad said in an interview with PTI.
“We were required to score 14 runs. I had a regret about that match and I got out at that time.”
The memory stayed with him.
“And that dismissal had haunted me for a very long time as I was a young kid.”
Time, and discipline, altered him.
“Now, I guess I’m matured as well. Now, I’m 24, so as a batsman, I’m getting matured day by day and that dismissal made me learn to put a price on my wicket.”
“This season, especially, I was just trying to enjoy my game and learning to keep the match situation in my mind as well. So, that worked for me well.”
In the final, his measured 61 off 104 balls ensured J&K’s first-innings total swelled. When the trophy was secured, the old regret softened.
“I think this win will ease the pain from that day.”
THE BARAMULLA EXPRESS
While the batsmen piled on the runs, the steel of the J&K structure was provided by Auqib Nabi. In a season that will be remembered for decades, Nabi emerged as a relentless force, claiming 60 wickets and sweeping the Man of the Match awards in the quarter-final and semi-final before being named Player of the Tournament following the final.
Nabi’s impact went far beyond the scoreboard; he recalibrated the identity of J&K’s pace attack. Historically, J&K bowlers were seen as conditions-dependent – deadly in the misty mornings of Srinagar but less effective on the flat, sun-baked tracks of the South. Nabi challenged that stereotype.
Maintaining a pace of around 135 kph and repeatedly hitting the seam, he turned dead tracks into testing surfaces for opposition batters. His ability to bowl long spells meant the pressure never relented, allowing captain Paras Dogra to squeeze opponents steadily.
Bowling coach P. Krishna Kumar, who waited 35 years – 15 as a player and 20 as a coach – for a Ranji title, explained why Nabi is a “coach’s dream”:
“It’s his wrist position. That is his greatest strength. Landing the ball on the seam most of the time and bowling in the right areas. If you land the ball in the right place, the pitch doesn’t matter. You saw it here in Hubballi – on a dead pitch, he took five wickets. I teach them the tactics, how to find the mistakes of the batsmen, and Auqib is the perfect student of that craft.”
Nabi’s rise also provided an umbrella effect for the rest of the attack. With Nabi controlling one end, young talents such as Sunil Kumar (31 wickets) found the freedom to attack. The synergy between Nabi’s discipline and Sunil Kumar’s energy turned J&K into a consistent 20-wicket side.
Head coach Ajay Sharma remains in awe of Nabi’s season.
“I have played a lot of domestic cricket, and I have not seen a bowler with such consistency of line and length. He is a very simple bowler, but his wrist position is excellent. He is a bowler who can win matches single-handedly. He, along with Sunil, represents a very bright future for this region.”
THE MIDNIGHT CALL
On the eve of the final, two injuries unsettled preparation. Shubham Khajuria suffered a back spasm. Vanshraj Sharma twisted his foot.
“It was a situation where we were concerned,” Ajay Sharma admitted.
The call went to Qamran Iqbal, who boarded a flight on the eve of the match and reported to the squad on the morning of Day One.
“It is not easy to travel at night and play directly the next morning,” Sharma said. “But he showed that he picked up from where he had left off.”
Iqbal’s unbeaten 160 in the second innings became part of J&K lore—not merely for its volume, but for its timing. He had been dropped earlier in the season. In the final, he became indispensable.
He ensured that Karnataka’s hopes of bowling J&K out cheaply in the second innings and chasing a target went up in smoke.
The journey to the final was not straightforward. J&K defeated former champions, Mumbai, Rajasthan, Delhi, Bengal and Karnataka. They did so without the star power many opponents possessed.
“You see this side – there are Test players playing for their teams, but we do not have stars,” Sharma said. “So we played as a team. And the belief was that yes, if we apply ourselves properly, we can also win.”
That belief had been constructed deliberately.
Infrastructure improved. Roles were clarified. Standards hardened.
“Ajay sir created an atmosphere where he made everybody know what to do,” Samad said. “He gave everybody his role and everybody followed that. So, that helped us.”
WHAT IT MEANS
For J&K, this win will be significant. It will inspire teams from other regions to believe and work towards their ambitions.
“I think this is a very big achievement for each and every individual from J&K,” Samad said. “Not only the players, the staff, but the people of J&K, the youngsters, the aspiring cricketers.”
He believes it will alter the region’s sporting imagination.
“The people will now be interested in cricket and they will try to practise and come to the trials as well. So, most of the people were not that much interested in cricket before this, I guess, and that might change now.”
Rome was not built in a day. Neither was this.
It was built with red soil imported deliberately. With net sessions policed rigorously. With stars reminded that reputation meant nothing without runs. With bowlers taught that wrist position could neutralise any surface.
The impossible, in the end, was not a miracle. It was process.
