Charith Asalanka did not try to hide how he felt after a night of criss-crossing time zones. “Right now, I’m feeling very sleepy,” he admitted, drawing warm laughter in Dubai’s media room. His honesty landed well, yet the Sri Lanka captain was only half-joking. Two T20Is in Harare on 6 and 7 September, a hop to Johannesburg, a red-eye to the UAE, and straight into a pre-tournament photoshoot would test anyone’s cheer.
The Asia Cup’s schedule rarely pauses for sympathy. Asalanka’s men have four days before meeting Bangladesh, a small mercy in a group that also includes Afghanistan and Hong Kong. Even so, fatigue is front of mind. “It’s really hard to play back-to-back games and then travel straightaway. I think we actually need a couple of days off. I hope the coach will give us [that],” he said, half-plea, half-joke. The 27-year-old knows the Dubai heat can feel unforgiving: “It’s important to take care of our fitness. And we all know it’s really hot out there. For me, it’s really important to stay fresh and give 100% in the first game.”
Afghanistan have hardly had it easier. Rashid Khan’s side finished a tri-series in Sharjah late on Sunday, learnt they would open the Asia Cup against Hong Kong in Abu Dhabi 48 hours later, and still found themselves in Dubai the next morning for the same captains’ gathering. Rashid, typically unflappable, chose realism over complaint. “Well, I don’t think it’s ideal – that’s what we were discussing [with the other captains] before as well,” he said. “To play in Abu Dhabi and stay here in Dubai for all three games… it’s different. But as professional cricketers, we have to accept these things.”
The Afghan leg-spinner has lived this carousel for years and offered a reminder of perspective. “Once you enter the ground, you tend to forget everything else. In other countries, we often fly two-three hours and go straight to the game. I remember flying from Bangladesh to the US once and playing straightaway.” Those stories might comfort younger team-mates now adjusting to days where recovery ice baths are taken in hotel baths and sleep becomes the luxury item.
Why does the calendar look so congested? In short, television windows and packed bilateral commitments leave organisers stitching tournaments into any available gap. This Asia Cup is wedged between franchise seasons and looming World Cup qualifiers. Boards want their best players on screen; broadcasters want prime-time finishes. The result: 40-degree evenings, midnight ice packs and a constant buzz of suitcase zips.
Sports-science staff quietly acknowledge the risk. Fast bowlers, who thrive on rhythm yet feel the pounding first, make up most of the injury list. Spinners, even those as wiry as Rashid, are not immune to dehydration and stiff backs when start times creep later. Nutritionists push electrolyte gels; analysts nag about optimal rest windows. Yet as Rashid observed, “You have to be well-prepared and mentally very strong, that’s why we are professionals.”
Sri Lanka’s coaching group will likely rotate seamers to preserve pace late in the tournament. Afghanistan rely heavily on spin but know they cannot flog Mujeeb Ur Rahman and Rashid through every spell. Hong Kong, viewed as outsiders, may benefit from lighter domestic workloads, though their smaller pool of contracted players means recovery resources are limited.
There is, of course, a flip side. Consecutive matches can sharpen instincts. Teams have little time to overthink, and form can carry across venues. A short turnaround also reduces room for lingering disappointment—lose on Monday, win on Tuesday, and momentum feels restored. Asalanka hinted at that competitive itch beneath the fatigue. “For me, it’s really important to stay fresh and give 100%,” he said, sounding like a man intent on making the conversation about cricket rather than travel diaries.
The bigger question—one neither captain can solve alone—is how often players can be pushed before performance dips or bodies break. Administrators argue that revamping calendars is complex: contracts, sponsors, and global events have already been inked. Yet whispers around team hotels suggest a collective appetite for slightly roomier gaps, even 24 extra hours, between flights and first balls.
For now, the immediate focus is a short, hot tournament that could swing on how well sides manage sleep, hydration, and hotel-corridor stretches. Rashid, ever the pragmatist, summed it up: “If you start complaining about these things, about traveling a lot, it affects your performance on the field. For us, the focus is to put in the effort once we step inside. Wherever we go, we try to forget whatever happens outside and adapt. The most important thing is to give 100% and win the game.”
That mindset—part stoicism, part survival—may decide who is still standing, and still smiling, when the trophy is lifted under the same unforgiving floodlights in a fortnight’s time.
