Ten medals, but a bigger question: Is Pakistan finally waking up to its sporting potential?

 

Eight bronze and two silver medals offer encouragement, but the Asian Games expose a familiar failure — Pakistan still invests too little, too late and too selectively in its athletes

 

By Asher Butt

Pakistan's Asian Games campaign has ended with 10 medals — two silver and eight bronze. On the surface, it is a result worthy of celebration. After winning only three medals at the previous Asian Games, the jump to double figures represents a significant improvement and provides a welcome reminder that Pakistani athletes are still capable of competing successfully at the highest level in Asia.

But if the celebrations stop at the medal tally, Pakistan will once again miss the bigger story.

The 2026 Asian Games have not merely produced medals for Pakistan. They have exposed, once again, both the potential of the country's athletes and the weaknesses of the system responsible for preparing them.

The athletes have done their part. The question is whether the institutions will do theirs.

Pakistan returned with two silver medals — in men's cricket and men's squash team — and eight bronze medals, with podium finishes also coming from women's cricket, men's hockey, men's volleyball, squash singles, PUBG Mobile esports, modern MMA and shooting.

That spread is particularly significant. It demonstrates that Pakistan's sporting talent is no longer confined to one or two traditional disciplines. Cricket and squash continue to deliver, but hockey, volleyball, shooting, combat sports and even esports have shown that Pakistan has a much wider sporting base than its international reputation suggests. And therein lies the opportunity.

Ten medals should not hide the uncomfortable reality. The most important question arising from these Games is not why Pakistan won 10 medals.

It is: Why did Pakistan win only 10?

According to the figures provided by the Pakistan Sports Board, only 95 athletes and officials were sponsored by the PSB, while the overall Pakistani contingent was around 240. The remaining athletes participated through the Pakistan Olympic Association, their respective federations or on a self-financed basis. This should concern every policymaker responsible for sport. Are the policymakers too self-financing their (official) trips?

Imagine asking an athlete to compete against the best in Asia while simultaneously telling him or her that the state cannot fully finance the journey. The contradiction is glaring.

Pakistan wants medals, international recognition and podium finishes, yet a significant portion of its athletes apparently have to find their own resources simply to reach the competition.

That is not a sustainable high-performance model. And it raises another uncomfortable question: how many potential medallists never made it to the Asian Games because they could not afford to?

There is no way to calculate that immediately. But the possibility cannot simply be ignored. The athletes have proved that talent is not the problem.

Perhaps the most encouraging aspect of Pakistan's campaign is that the medal-winning performances have come from different sports.

The men's cricket team reached the final and secured silver after finishing runners-up to India. The women's team added bronze after defeating Bangladesh in the third-place playoff. With the backing and the facilities the cricket team has, silver is not an acceptable result and they should have been on top of the podium wearing gold.

The men's squash team won silver, while Pakistani players also secured two bronze medals in singles.

Hockey returned to the podium, ending a long wait for an Asian Games medal. Volleyball produced a historic bronze, a reminder of the potential that exists outside Pakistan's traditional sporting priorities.

Pakistan's campaign at the Asian Games suffered another significant setback when the national kabaddi team crashed out following a shock defeat to Thailand, one of the biggest upsets of the competition. The result was particularly painful given Pakistan's rich history in the sport and its status as one of Asia's traditional kabaddi powerhouses. Expectations had been high for a deep run in the tournament, making the unexpected exit all the more difficult for players, officials and supporters to accept.

The disappointment in kabaddi also reflected a broader pattern that emerged during Pakistan's overall performance at the Games. Outside a handful of events, the country struggled to challenge for podium places against stronger and better-prepared rivals from across the continent. Several teams and athletes fell short of expectations, raising renewed questions about planning, preparation and long-term development structures within national sports federations.

Athletics, often regarded as one of the most important indicators of a country's sporting progress, offered little encouragement beyond the participation of Olympic javelin champion Arshad Nadeem. None of the athletes selected by the Athletics Federation of Pakistan managed to mount a serious challenge for a medal, underlining the lack of depth within the country's track and field programme.

Even Arshad, who has carried Pakistan's medal hopes almost single-handedly in recent years, was unable to reach the podium. The star thrower finished fourth in the javelin event with a best effort of 80.29 metres. While the throw marked his first time crossing the 80-metre barrier this season, it was well below the standards that established him as one of the world's leading javelin athletes and the reigning Olympic champion.

Arshad's recent performances have become a subject of growing discussion among sporting observers. After setting new benchmarks for Pakistan athletics and delivering historic international success, his inability to reach previous levels has prompted questions that require careful technical and performance-based evaluation. Coaches and experts will likely examine factors ranging from training cycles and fitness management to competition schedules and recovery programmes.

More importantly, Pakistan's reliance on a single athlete continues to highlight a major concern for the future. The absence of other genuine medal contenders in athletics suggests a weakness in talent identification, athlete development and high-performance pathways. For a nation of more than 240 million people, the inability to consistently produce world-class competitors across multiple disciplines remains a troubling reality.

Pakistan fielded four boxers (two men and two women) at the Aichi-Nagoya Asian Games, but none managed to reach the medal rounds. The absence of a boxing medal was another setback for a sport that has historically produced competitive performers at regional and international levels.

From an analytical perspective, boxing's failure to deliver a podium finish is particularly concerning because it is traditionally considered one of the sports where Pakistan can realistically target medals with proper investment, exposure and coaching. Unlike athletics, where Pakistan's hopes were largely concentrated on Arshad Nadeem, boxing offers multiple weight categories and therefore multiple medal opportunities. Yet Pakistan was unable to capitalize on that potential.

Shooting contributed a bronze. So did MMA. And the PUBG Mobile team won a historic esports bronze, underlining a completely new dimension of competitive sport. These are not insignificant achievements.

The volleyball medal, in particular, should provoke serious thinking. A sport that has often existed in the shadow of cricket and hockey has demonstrated that Pakistan can compete internationally when athletes are given an opportunity to develop.

The same applies to MMA and esports.

The lesson is simple: Pakistan does not have a shortage of sporting talent. It has a shortage of a properly structured sporting system.

Hockey's return to the podium deserves special attention. The men's hockey bronze is perhaps one of the most emotionally significant achievements of the campaign. For years, Pakistani hockey has lived on its glorious past. The green shirts that once frightened the world gradually became a team struggling to maintain even its place among Asia's elite.

The Asian Games podium now provides a small but important sign that the decline can perhaps be arrested. But this bronze should not become another excuse for celebration without reform.

Pakistan hockey needs regular international competition, properly prepared domestic structures, scientific training, modern coaching, sports medicine, nutrition, fitness programmes and financial stability.

One medal cannot revive a sport. A system can.

If the authorities use this result merely for ceremonial photographs and press releases, the opportunity will be wasted.

Volleyball has sent perhaps the loudest warning to policymakers. Pakistan's volleyball bronze is more than another number on the medal table.

It is evidence that disciplines outside cricket can produce international results.

For decades, Pakistani sport has suffered from an unhealthy concentration of attention, resources and media space around cricket.

Cricket's popularity is not the problem. The problem begins when the success of one sport becomes an excuse for neglecting dozens of others.

Volleyball has now provided an answer to those who argue that Pakistan cannot produce elite athletes in other disciplines.

Give athletes proper coaching.

Give them camps.

Give them international exposure.

Give them equipment.

Give them sports science.

Give them competition.

Then judge them on performance.

The biggest weakness remains preparation.

Pakistan cannot expect athletes to assemble shortly before a major event, train for a limited period and then defeat opponents who have been part of four-year high-performance programmes.

Asian Games medals are not won at the Asian Games. They are won in the years preceding them. This is where the Pakistan Sports Board, Pakistan Olympic Association and national federations need to rethink their approach.

Camps must be arranged well in advance, not merely when an international event approaches. Athletes need long-term periodised training programmes.

They need strength and conditioning coaches, physiotherapists, nutritionists, psychologists, recovery specialists and access to quality competition. They need regular international exposure against stronger opponents. And, most importantly, they need continuity.

A talented athlete should not have to wait for an Asian Games, Commonwealth Games or Olympics to discover whether the state is willing to support him.

Merit must be the foundation. Another crucial issue is athlete selection.

If Pakistan genuinely wants to become a serious sporting nation, selection must be based on transparent, measurable and performance-oriented criteria.

No athlete should be selected because of connections.

No athlete should be excluded because of a federation's internal politics.

No place in a national camp should be treated as a favour.

And financial circumstances should not determine who gets the opportunity to represent Pakistan.

If an athlete is good enough to qualify on merit but cannot afford the cost of training or travel, the state should step in.

Otherwise, Pakistan risks creating a system where the son or daughter of a financially comfortable family gets the opportunity while an equally talented athlete from a poor background remains invisible.

That is not meritocracy.

Self-financing cannot become the new normal. The fact that around 240 people formed the Pakistani contingent but only 95 athletes and officials were sponsored by the PSB deserves a serious institutional review.

Self-financing may sometimes be unavoidable, but it cannot become a substitute for national sports policy. Representing Pakistan is not an ordinary private trip.

An athlete wearing the national colours is carrying the country's name, flag and reputation. If the country expects that athlete to win a medal, it must first provide the conditions under which winning one becomes realistically possible.

Ten medals are a beginning — not an excuse. There is every reason to congratulate the athletes. They deserve recognition.

They competed under pressure, overcame limited resources and still managed to put Pakistan on the podium 10 times. Their performances should be celebrated loudly.

But the athletes themselves should also be the first to demand more from the system.

Because the medal tally could have been bigger.

Perhaps significantly bigger.

The real test begins now.

Will Pakistan use these Games to establish a four-year high-performance strategy, or will the medals disappear into the archives until the next Asian Games?

Will the PSB identify sports with realistic medal potential and provide them continuous funding?

Will federations be held accountable for performance and financial management?

Will camps begin months and years before major events?

Will athletes receive scientific training and international exposure?

Will selection be genuinely merit-based?

And will the state invest in promising youngsters before they become champions rather than waiting until after they win medals?

These are the questions that matter.

From medals to a sporting revolution. Pakistan does not need to become a sporting superpower overnight.

It needs to become consistent.

If a volleyball team can win a historic medal, support volleyball.

If shooters can reach the podium, invest in shooting.

If squash continues to deliver, develop the next generation.

If hockey shows signs of recovery, build a sustainable structure around it.

If MMA and esports can produce international results, bring them into a modern national sports strategy.

And if cricket continues to dominate public attention, use its commercial strength to help create opportunities for other sports rather than allowing the entire sporting ecosystem to revolve around one game.

The 2026 Asian Games have given Pakistan something more valuable than 10 medals.

They have given the country evidence.

Evidence that talent exists.

Evidence that athletes can compete.

Evidence that neglected sports can produce results.

And evidence that Pakistan's sporting ceiling is probably much higher than its current medal tally suggests.

The danger now is that officials will celebrate the eight bronze and two silver medals, issue congratulatory statements and move on.

The opportunity is to ask why the country that produced those 10 medals could not produce 15, 20 or more.

Pakistan's athletes have delivered the message from Japan. The question now is whether Pakistan's sports administrators are prepared to listen.

The medals should be celebrated.

But they should also be treated as a warning — and a challenge.

Because if Pakistan can win 10 medals while only a fraction of its contingent receives state sponsorship, the country's biggest sporting achievement may not have happened yet.