In a moment that will forever be etched in the annals of cricket history, Harmanpreet Kaur has achieved what Kapil Dev once did for India, and the cricketing world is abuzz with comparisons. But here’s where it gets emotional—for Balwinder Singh Sandhu, a hero of India’s 1983 World Cup victory, witnessing Harmanpreet lift the Women’s World Cup 2025 trophy wasn’t just a celebration; it was a profound echo of a moment that redefined Indian cricket.
Some victories are more than just wins; they are catalysts for change, symbols of unwavering belief. Sandhu, whose legendary delivery to Gordon Greenidge remains etched in cricketing folklore, sees in Harmanpreet the same transformative power that Kapil Dev wielded four decades ago. Speaking to Olympics.com, Sandhu’s voice brimmed with pride and nostalgia: ‘Harmanpreet Kaur is the Kapil Dev of Indian cricket. Just as Kapil paaji inspired us in 1983, Harman has done the same for her team today. She leads with heart, humility, and unshakable conviction—qualities that ignite the spirit of every player around her.’
And this is the part most people miss—Sandhu draws a striking parallel between the two eras, separated by time but united by spirit. ‘We weren’t the favorites in 1983, and neither were they,’ he reflects. ‘We lost two early matches before Kapil’s iconic 175 against Zimbabwe turned the tide. Similarly, Harmanpreet’s team faced setbacks against Australia and South Africa, but both captains led their teams back from the brink through sheer belief.’ Sandhu highlights the uncanny resemblance in their leadership—the calm before the storm, the unyielding assurance that no matter the odds, the team would stand united.
But Sandhu’s admiration doesn’t stop at Harmanpreet. He reserves deep respect for Amol Muzumdar, the architect behind India’s women’s team revival. ‘Amol’s journey is a testament to patience and perseverance,’ Sandhu notes. ‘Though he never played for India, he dedicated his life to serving Indian cricket. His role as a mentor and coach has been nothing short of remarkable. He was a fine batsman, but he’s proven to be an even greater guide.’ Sandhu recalls Muzumdar’s disciplined and determined demeanor from their Mumbai days, suggesting that while his playing career might have taken a different turn, his destiny was always to uplift others—a role that demands immense character.
As the floodlights illuminated DY Patil Stadium, Sandhu couldn’t help but feel transported back to Lord’s 1983. ‘The faces were new, the colors brighter, but the feeling—that overwhelming pride of watching India rise—was identical,’ he smiled. ‘This isn’t about men’s or women’s cricket anymore. It’s about Indian cricket.’ Pausing, his voice softened with nostalgia: ‘In 1983, only a few of us carried small mementos from Lord’s, but today, every Indian carries a piece of DY Patil in their heart. The women have turned it into our new Lord’s—a field of dreams.’
Here’s the controversial part—while many celebrate Harmanpreet’s triumph as a milestone for women’s cricket, Sandhu boldly declares it a victory for Indian cricket as a whole. ‘Hat’s off to Harmanpreet and her girls,’ he concludes. ‘They’ve written their own golden chapter. What began with Kapil in 1983 has found its echo in Harman in 2025. Two captains, two eras—one enduring Indian spirit.’ But is this truly the end of the gender divide in cricket, or is there still work to be done? What do you think—has Harmanpreet’s victory bridged the gap, or is this just the beginning? Let’s spark the debate in the comments!
