The 2026 Hundred season was a masterclass in cricketing drama, and the awards handed out by Stuart Broad, Nasser Hussain, and Lydia Greenway offer a fascinating lens into the game’s evolving priorities. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the selections reflect not just individual brilliance, but also the shifting tides of strategy, personality, and value in T20 cricket. Let me unpack this with a few observations that might make you rethink how we judge talent in this format.
Take Jos Buttler, for instance. His inclusion as the best local player isn’t just about his 130s or his ability to swing the momentum of a game. It’s about the aura he carries. He’s not just a batter; he’s a franchise’s emotional anchor. Manchester Super Giants wouldn’t be where they are without his leadership. But here’s what many people don’t realize: in a tournament where momentum shifts faster than a sprinter’s start, the intangible qualities of a leader—like Buttler’s calm under pressure—can be as valuable as the runs themselves. This raises a deeper question: when we celebrate T20 stars, are we valuing the flashy numbers or the quiet resilience that keeps teams afloat? I’d argue it’s the latter, even if it doesn’t always show up on the scoreboard.
Then there’s Mitch Marsh, the overseas player of the year. His simplicity is striking. In an era where batters are expected to be all things to all conditions, Marsh’s approach is almost old-school: hit the ball straight, play the surface, and let the results follow. What makes this interesting is how it contrasts with players like Harry Brook, whose brilliance is tied to specific conditions. Marsh’s adaptability—scoring runs at Trent Bridge, Headingley, and even Manchester—shows that sometimes, the most effective batsmen are those who don’t overcomplicate things. This feels like a trend we’ll see more of: players who prioritize consistency over flash, especially in a format where one-off performances can be misleading.
Speaking of consistency, Tilly Corteen-Coleman’s 13 wickets for the women’s side deserve a closer look. Her selection isn’t just about numbers; it’s about reliability. In a tournament where bowlers can be discarded after a single poor match, her ability to perform across multiple games is a rare commodity. What this really suggests is that the women’s game is entering a phase where depth and durability matter as much as pace and aggression. And yet, the media still tends to focus on the big names, not the unsung heroes who keep the team ticking.
Now, let’s talk about the newcomers. LD Pretorius and Charley Phillips are both cases of players who arrived in the Hundred and immediately made an impact. Pretorius, in particular, stood out for his elegant strokeplay on difficult surfaces. But here’s a thought: what does it say about the Hundred that a player with no prior franchise experience can become a standout? It suggests the tournament is becoming a launching pad for young talent, a place where players can prove themselves without the pressure of international cricket. This could be a game-changer for the future of the sport, creating a pipeline of players who thrive in high-octane environments.
Calvin Harrison’s value-for-money award is another intriguing angle. At £31k, he delivered eight wickets and some stunning fielding. But the real story here is the contrast with Adil Rashid, who was paid £250k. Rashid’s performance was stellar, but the price tag raises questions about how franchises allocate their budgets. Are they investing in proven stars, or is there room for undervalued gems like Harrison? This debate isn’t just about economics—it’s about risk management. In a tournament where one bad pick can derail a season, the balance between safety and surprise is a tightrope walk.
And let’s not forget the entertainment factor. Trent Boult’s antics, from the infamous inswinger at Lord’s to his anti-fist pump celebration, remind us that cricket is as much about personality as it is about skill. These moments aren’t just for the fans—they’re the glue that keeps the game relevant in a world full of distractions. Similarly, Nat Sciver-Brunt’s class on the field, especially her reverse sweep, shows that even when players are nursing injuries, their ability to perform under pressure defines their legacy.
Finally, the captaincy awards highlight two very different approaches. Sam Billings’ leadership with Trent Rockets is about experience and composure, while Dani Gibson’s rise as a captain for SunRisers Leeds speaks to the power of resilience and tactical adaptability. What this tells me is that leadership in T20 cricket isn’t one-size-fits-all. It’s a blend of knowing when to push the pedal and when to hold back—a skill that’s as much art as it is science.
As the Hundred continues to evolve, these awards serve as a reminder that cricket isn’t just about the numbers. It’s about the stories behind them, the personalities that make the game unforgettable, and the strategies that turn a tournament into a spectacle. The future of T20 cricket isn’t just in the hands of the stars—it’s in the choices we make about who gets to shine.
