Asian Games 2026 Kabaddi: Four Teams Through the Group-Stage Dust to Semi-Finals, and Some Unfinished Stories

An evening in Ainsu. The wooden floor of Tokyo's Yoyogi National Gymnasium was still damp with the previous night's sweat. Outside the stadium, the air carried Nepal's red and blue flags alongside Malaysia's yellow. The scoreboard blazed 73-52. When Kushal Sherpa of Kathmandu dived into his final raid and returned, left elbow taped, eyes wet, I understood—this victory was not just for the points table. It was for those who had been searching for a proof of existence on the Asian Games stage. Four matches, four losses, and then this win on the final day. Nepal's exit from the group stage was confirmed, but the sleepless teenagers of Kathmandu had gained something greater. The locker room tells you the score before the scoreboard ever does. Before entering that small dressing room adjacent to the Tokyo Convention Centre's training hall on Tuesday, I sensed that even after losing, Nepal's boys were smiling. Because they knew the taste of a first victory on Asian Games soil is no less than a medal.

The group stage of the men's kabaddi event at the Asian Games 2026 has concluded. Ten teams participated in this Tokyo event—Group A comprised India, Chinese Taipei, Bangladesh, Japan and South Korea; Group B had Iran, Thailand, Pakistan, Nepal and Malaysia. According to the format, the top two teams from each group advance to the semi-finals. The final day's four matches—Iran vs Thailand, Japan vs South Korea, India vs Chinese Taipei, Nepal vs Malaysia and Iran vs Pakistan—cleared much of the points table. But what remains unclear is the story within each team. I am not here merely to report scores; I am here to enter those stories—where sweat, tears, shouts and strategy collide to create kabaddi's true form.

In Group A, India finished top. Four wins in four matches. The opponents were Chinese Taipei, Bangladesh, Japan and South Korea. India's point difference across these matches was +115. Yet looking beyond the individual scoreboards, this Indian team is not as one-dimensional as previous editions. In this unit built by coach E M Sujith, alongside raider Arjun Deshwal has emerged Aslam Inamdar. In defence, led by Surjeet Singh, the corners have built a wall that Thailand's coach called "as invincible as the Chinese wall" at the post-match press conference. Yet hidden within India's four group-stage wins is an uncomfortable truth—in the first two matches against Bangladesh and Japan, India trailed at half-time. Against Bangladesh, facing defeat at 18-19, Arjun's two successive super raids after the break turned the match. The 52-21 score against South Korea may seem one-sided, but in the first ten minutes, Korea's defence line nearly succeeded in disrupting India's raiding pattern. I have been following kabaddi's line for six years—from Delhi's Tilak Market to Tokyo's Yoyogi—and I know group-stage invincibility is often a beautiful lie that semi-finals love to expose.

Behind India, Chinese Taipei finished second. Two wins and two losses in four matches. Along with reaching the semi-finals, they secured a second consecutive kabaddi medal at the Asian Games. At the 2026 Hangzhou edition, Chinese Taipei made history by winning silver; this time they will at least take home bronze. In the group stage, they lost to India and Bangladesh. But the 37-21 scoreline against India is not as easy as it looks. Chinese Taipei's coach Lin Hsiu-chen said after the match, "We posted a score, but the real victory is that our defensive pattern was not read by India's raiders." This statement matters. Because Chinese Taipei's core strength is their defence—especially the combination of left corner Chang Chun-sheng and right in Huang Chih-hao. Their tackling positioning was puzzling video analysts before the match. Retaining the core structure of their 2026 Hangzhou bronze-winning squad, they have now adopted a more aggressive avatar. This is perhaps Asian kabaddi's biggest story—the kids of Taiwan who started kabaddi on school fields now stand just behind India.

In Group A, Bangladesh finished third—two wins, two losses. But they missed the semi-finals only due to score difference. By how much? Bangladesh's total points for were 143, against 129. Chinese Taipei's for 131, against 127. That is, Bangladesh were knocked out of the semi-finals by a margin of just four points. Where did those four points come from? In the first match against Japan, a 35-31 win, Bangladesh raider Nazmul Haque's empty-handed return in the final two minutes. Or in the 28-42 loss to India, after half-time, captain Tuhin Tarafdar's super raid followed by a lost bonus in the final raid of the 30-31 loss to Chinese Taipei. I grew up watching Bangladesh's kabaddi from the stands of Dhaka's Mirpur Indoor Stadium. There, every point was soaked in the scent of village soil. On Tokyo's wooden floor that scent is absent, but in the eyes of Bangladesh's boys is the same longing. I walked in a fan and left with the team—for me, this sentence is literal. In 2026, wearing a Bangladesh jersey at a club match in Dhaka, I screamed in the final raid. Today, sitting in Tokyo's press box, I must swallow that scream. Because on paper, Bangladesh's group stage was better than expected—two wins, a narrow one-point loss. Yet this same team had lost all group matches at the 2026 Hangzhou edition. Kabaddi is Bangladesh's religion, and the priests of this religion have now proven they are returning.

In Group A's fourth place were hosts Japan—two wins, two losses. Fifth and last were South Korea—zero wins, four losses. The decline of the Korean kabaddi team is a stark sight. At the 2026 Jakarta Asian Games, Korea won silver. At 2026 Hangzhou, they played the semi-finals. Arriving in Tokyo, they conceded 109 points in four matches, scoring only 67. On Tuesday, their campaign ended with a 35-62 loss to Japan. After the match, Korean coach Park Young-sik told reporters, "We have no leg speed, we have no raiding speed. We could not keep pace with Japan, India, Bangladesh." This statement is correct, but incomplete. The decline of Korean kabaddi began in the post-coronavirus period, when investment in the domestic league decreased and senior raiders retired. In 2026, three of the seven teams in South Korea's domestic kabaddi league folded. This reduced match opportunities for emerging players. In Tokyo, that gap is evident—Korea's defence line could not stand before Japanese raiders, because many of Korea's best raiders had not played on that league's field. This decline is not just Korea's, but a signal of instability in Asian kabaddi.

Now Group B. Iran top, four wins in four matches. Yes, expected. But this Iran is not the Iran of before. In this team built by coach Alireza Forsad, the raiding responsibility lies mainly with Mohammad Esak, who scored 58 points in the group stage to be second in the top scorers' list. In defence, the corner pair of Fazel Atrach and Meysam Moradi is nearly unbeatable. The 83-27 score against Thailand on Tuesday may seem one-sided. Is it really? In the first five minutes, Thailand led 9-7, through three consecutive points from raider Kittichai Chanthalay. Iran had not yet found rhythm. In the eighth minute, Iran inflicted an all-out and thereafter the Thai defence collapsed. 83 points is Iran's highest score in an Asian Games group stage. But hidden within this score is an Iranian weakness—they lose patience in the first five minutes. In the semi-final against India, these five minutes could determine fate. In 2026, I watched an Iranian domestic match from Tehran's Azadi Stadium. There, spectators recited prayers before each raid. In Tokyo, those prayers are absent, but in the eyes of Iranian raiders is the same fire.

In Group B, Thailand finished second—three wins, one loss. This is Thailand's first-ever Asian Games medal in kabaddi. This achievement cannot be taken lightly. Because Thailand's kabaddi comes from the culture of sepak takraw, where touching the ball with hands is forbidden. Most of their kabaddi players come from sepak takraw. Without raider Kittichai Chanthalay and defender Thanakorn Si-suphan, Thailand's semi-final berth would have been difficult. After the loss to Iran on Tuesday, Thailand's coach Somchai Panthong said, "We lost to Iran, but we have won a medal. History is ours." There is no complacency in this sentence; it is the culmination of a small nation's kabaddi dream. Thailand's medal added a new colour to the map of Asian kabaddi.

In Group B, Pakistan finished third—two wins, two losses. This is the first time they return from an Asian Games without a kabaddi medal. At 2026 Hangzhou, Pakistan won bronze. Arriving in Tokyo, their exit was confirmed with a 30-51 loss to Iran. The reasons for Pakistan's kabaddi decline are deep. Without a domestic league, new raiders are not emerging. The team's age has increased, speed decreased. Against Iran on Tuesday, one question swirled in Pakistan's raiding—why so slow? Coach Rana Asif's instruction may have been to play safe. But in kabaddi, playing safe means losing. The frustration in Pakistani eyes is clear. From a Delhi blog to Tokyo and Qatar, the rhythm stayed—I once watched a kabaddi match at Lahore's Gaddafi Stadium, where spectators sang the names of Pakistan's raiders. In Tokyo, that song is absent, only silence.

In Group B's fourth place was Nepal—one win, three losses. Fifth and last was Malaysia—zero wins, four losses. The match between these two teams was the most emotional of the group stage's final day. Nepal won 73-52. After the match, Nepal's coach Binod Kumar Sherpa said, "We did not come here just to participate, we came to write history." In the joy of their first win, Nepali players lay on the field and cried. For those who have risen from the soil of Kathmandu, a victory at the Asian Games is like a Himalayan peak. Nepal's raider Suman Lama said after the match, "If we had won one more match in the group stage, then maybe..." He did not finish the sentence. In kabaddi, the word 'maybe' has no place. But Nepal's victory is a foundation for their future. Malaysia's four losses are a lesson for them.

After the group stage, the points table stood thus: Group A—India 8 points, Chinese Taipei 4, Bangladesh 4, Japan 4, South Korea 0. Group B—Iran 8, Thailand 6, Pakistan 4, Nepal 2, Malaysia 0. Semi-final lineup: India vs Thailand, Iran vs Chinese Taipei. The medal battles begin on September 24, and the men's kabaddi gold medal match is on September 26.

Now to the question everyone in Tokyo's press box is whispering about—is India truly invincible? Their four group-stage wins leave no doubt. But the semi-final against Thailand will not be as easy, because Thailand has already made history and carries no pressure. And teams without pressure are dangerous. In the Iran-Thailand match, Iran's raiding was rhythmless in the first five minutes. If Thailand can seize that opportunity, an upset could occur. Yet the reality is that India's defensive line, led by Surjeet Singh, is so strong that three consecutive successful raids by Thai raiders is nearly impossible.

Here lies kabaddi's biggest misunderstanding. General viewers think those who win all group matches are the semi-final favourites. But kabaddi's history says otherwise. At the 2026 Jakarta Asian Games, Iran won all four group matches, but lost the final to India. At 2026 Hangzhou, India were unbeaten in the group stage, but lost the final to Iran 31-32. That is, a perfect group-stage record is no guarantee in kabaddi. Rather, it is a mental trap—a team that never faced pressure in the group stage may lose rhythm when pressured in the first few minutes of the semi-final. Iran knows this, Thailand knows this, Chinese Taipei knows this.

India's real test will be in the semi-final, and if they beat Thailand, then in the final against Iran or Chinese Taipei. The Iranian team looks balanced. The combination of Mohammad Esak's raiding and Fazel Atrach's defence makes Iran more lethal than any previous Iranian team. But Iran's weakness is their right corner. Even in the 83-27 win over Thailand in the group stage, three points came from Iran's right corner. In the semi-final, if Chinese Taipei targets that gap, Iran could sweat. Chinese Taipei's coach Lin Hsiu-chen has surely seen that video.

Another semi-final aspect is the referee. In Tokyo's group-stage matches, several refereeing decisions have been controversial, especially regarding 'cant' and 'bonus line' during raids. In the Bangladesh-Chinese Taipei match, the referee's decision in the final raid went against Bangladesh, about which Bangladeshi coach Abdul Jalil expressed anger at the post-match press conference. He said, "We were fighting not just against the scoreboard, but against a few decisions." Whether this anger is valid can be understood by watching the video. But on the big stage of the Ariake Arena, the referee's role is always a topic of discussion. If a controversial decision determines the fate of a semi-final, it would be unfortunate for kabaddi.

As I breathe kabaddi's scent in Tokyo's air, I remember Delhi in 2026. Then I wrote a fan blog for Delhi Dynamos. I watched World Kabaddi League matches at night, attended college classes in the morning. Writing about kabaddi then, I understood how neglected this sport was. In 2026, I see Asian Games kabaddi matches being held in Tokyo, with journalists arriving from various parts of the world. Kabaddi has changed. But some things have not—like the silence of the locker room, which speaks more truth than the scoreboard. Standing outside South Korea's locker room on Tuesday night, I heard that silence. Korean coach Park Young-sik came out and spoke to reporters, but inside his players sat, some crying, some talking to family on the phone. This scene is captured in no statistic. Kabaddi is not just a 30-second raid; it is a 30-second struggle for survival.

Before the semi-finals, one more thing must be kept in mind—fitness. Of Tokyo's five group-stage matches, four were held on four consecutive days. In such a schedule, reaching the semi-finals becomes difficult for smaller teams. Three Thailand players are already playing with minor injuries. Thailand's coach Somchai Panthong said on Tuesday, "Our squad depth is low. In the semi-final, we may be forced to make changes." India does not have this problem, because their bench is strong. But for Iran, there is cause for concern—their main raider Mohammad Esak scored the highest 58 points, but he is reportedly carrying a minor leg injury. Nothing has been officially said from the Iranian camp, but Esak was seen training lightly at a Tokyo training session.

Here a significant tactical change may occur. If Iran cannot get Esak fully fit for the semi-final, the raiding responsibility may fall more on Hossein Nadri. Nadri is primarily an all-rounder, who scored 32 points in the group stage. But how he handles semi-final pressure remains to be seen. Chinese Taipei can seize this opportunity. If they focus more on defence and block Iran's raiding, the match could be tight. Chinese Taipei's left corner Chang Chun-sheng has taken 22 tackle points this tournament. His speed and timing are dangerous for Iranian raiders.

Another notable aspect is home advantage. Japan is playing as hosts. Although they did not reach the semi-finals, their performance is commendable. Especially Japanese raider Keita Tanaka's scoring. He scored 41 points in the group stage, fifth in the top scorers' list. Japan's kabaddi team is still far away, but their training system and league structure are of international standard. Expatriate Indians and Bangladeshis living in Tokyo are supporting the Japanese team, a sign of kabaddi's globalisation.

The other semi-final is Iran vs Chinese Taipei. This match could be the tournament's most strategic battle. Iran is aggressive, Chinese Taipei defensive. But in kabaddi, defence is sometimes stronger than attack. In the group stage, Chinese Taipei's defence against Bangladesh was superb. Bangladesh's raiders repeatedly got stuck at Chinese Taipei's right corner. If Iran's raiders fall into that trap, an upset is possible. But Iran's coach Forsad is experienced. He has surely analysed Chinese Taipei's defensive pattern. Who wins depends on how quickly Iran's raiders can break Chinese Taipei's defence.

Before the semi-finals, one statistic should be remembered—in Asian Games kabaddi history, India has won the most gold (seven times), Iran twice (2026 and 2026). At 2026 Hangzhou, Iran stunned everyone by beating India 32-31 in the final. In Tokyo, India will want revenge. But India's coach Sujith currently trusts young players. Aslam Inamdar, Arjun Deshwal, Surjeet Singh—this trio is India's future. Their performance against Thailand in the semi-final will tell how strong India's gold chances are.

For me, kabaddi's greatest lesson is patience. In 2026, entering Delhi Dynamos' locker room, I first learned how players discuss strategy. Coach Gombau discussed his 4-2-3-1 formation in a WhatsApp group of 120 fans. I understood then that kabaddi is the same—every raid, every tackle, every corner position is a strategic decision. Arriving in Tokyo 2026, that lesson is useful. Iran's first-five-minute weakness, India's slow first-half starts, Chinese Taipei's defensive trap—these are not just statistics, they are swirling in every coach's mind before the semi-finals.

The group stage is over. Four teams have secured medals. But the real battle of the semi-finals will begin not on the field, but in the locker room. The team that stays mentally strong, that can handle the first five minutes of pressure, that can hold its defensive corner line—they will play in the September 26 gold medal match. Kabaddi was never just a game of scores, nor will it ever be. Empty stadiums taught me that silence has its own formation—Tokyo's galleries have spectators, but the silence that descends before every raid hides a thousand stories. Those stories I will tell, because I am not just a journalist—I am a keeper of kabaddi.