When Bangladesh took on Hong Kong, China on Tuesday evening at the Kai Tak Stadium, the question was not just about how they would perform, but who would start. Despite seeing how the foreign-based players change the rhythm of play whenever they enter the pitch, coach Javier Cabrera continued to hold back from starting them all together.
It was visible from the first leg in Dhaka on 9 October, when Bangladesh lost 4-3 in dramatic fashion. That night, Cabrera’s starting XI was heavily criticised. Zayyan Ahmed, Shamit Shome, Fahamedul Islam and Jamal Bhuyan all began on the bench, yet their late inclusion turned the match on its head. When they came on, the game’s tempo changed instantly. Bangladesh’s passes became sharper, transitions smoother, and attacks more purposeful.
From training ground issues to Hong Kong’s cold hospitality, the visitors have faced more frustration than football in the build-up. Yet, amid all that noise, one debate continues to dominate Bangladeshi football circles is why does Cabrera keep starting without his strongest XI when evidence repeatedly shows how much better Bangladesh play when all their foreign-based players start together?
The energy shift was clear. With Jamal orchestrating the tempo with Hamza, Shamit linking lines, and Fahamedul stretching the defence, Bangladesh looked like a side that believed in itself again. They may have lost 4-3, but the scoreline felt secondary to the message: when all the right pieces are on the pitch, Bangladesh look like a team. The same thing was visible in Kai Tak Stadium too, as Bangladesh looked like a totally different team when Jamal and Fahamedul entered.
So when Cabrera made only partial changes in the second leg, starting Zayyan and Shamit but leaving Jamal and Fahamedul on the bench again, which is a cautious, hesitant start where the front line ran without purpose. Once the bench came alive, the football came alive too.
Bangladesh’s problem isn’t talent. It’s chemistry. Zayyan Ahmed is not the kind of winger who thrives on chaos. He’s a rhythm player, and his strength lies in reading space, playing quick exchanges, and staying positionally disciplined. Fahamedul Islam, meanwhile, is a creator trapped in a winger’s label. He doesn’t just run down the flank; he drifts inward, connects midfield to attack, and gives structure.
But when one starts and the other sits out, both lose context. They need each other, the same way Shamit needs Jamal and Hamza behind him to break lines confidently. It’s a tactical ecosystem, not a jigsaw puzzle where you can swap one piece for another.
That’s what makes Cabrera’s selections frustrating. It’s not about disrespecting local players; it’s about ignoring balance. When you see Zayyan trying to build from the left with no overlapping full-back, or Fahamedul waiting on the bench while the front three struggle for passing options, you know the system is eating itself.
Even small tactical tweaks could have unlocked more. Imagine Zayyan operating at left-back, keeping Fahamedul just ahead, with their understanding of space could stretch any Asian defence. With Rakib Hossain switching to his preferred right wing and Shakil Ahad threading vertical passes from midfield, Bangladesh would instantly look more fluid.
This Hong Kong side were organised and compact. They rarely left gaps between their lines, which means Bangladesh could not rely on individual runs or hopeful long balls. They needed rhythm, and the very thing that only appeared when the technically gifted, foreign-based players combine.
Fahamedul’s impact was immediate. His intelligent positioning turned Foysal Ahmed Fahim’s cross into a perfect assist for Rakib Hossain’s 83rd-minute equaliser, a move that silenced a 50,000-strong Hong Kong crowd.
Ex-captain of the Bangladesh football team Mamunul Islam thinks a bit differently. He said, “I believe the players who started the match and those who came from the bench are almost equally good. The coach kept his stronger plan for the later part of the game, and eventually it was visible.” According to Mamun, the starting XI does not mean the best XI, and the coach might have had the plan of using ‘super-subs’, to play aggressive football in the latter parts of the game.
Hamza Choudhury is the anchor in this puzzle. His presence gives Bangladesh something rare in South Asian football, which is calm control under pressure. From the backline to the forward, Hamza dictates transitions and recycles possession smartly. But when the players around him hesitate or misread movement, his influence gets wasted in recovery work instead of progressive play.
That’s why Cabrera’s tactical caution felt misplaced. It’s understandable to manage minutes, but football isn’t a maths problem; the chemistry grows only through trust and repetition. By starting one or two of the foreign-based players instead of all, he keeps Bangladesh in a perpetual state of half-synchrony.
Hamza summed it up best after the draw in Hong Kong. “This is what football should be, especially in Asia,” he said. “We’ve built a base to improve, but there’s still some disappointment for not winning.” His words reflect both pride and frustration.
Bangladesh have shown what they can be when their best minds and legs work together. It is now time for Cabrera to trust that combination from the start, not wait until the game is slipping away.
