4 Lessons from Sanju Samson's Journey: From a Delhi Police Colony to Team India
Picture this. An 11-year-old boy wakes up before dawn in a cramped flat inside a police residential colony in North Delhi. His father, a constable who once played football for Delhi in the Santosh Trophy, has already laid out his kit. They will travel across the city to a cricket academy, as they do every single morning, rain or shine. The boy does not come from a cricketing family. He has no connections in the sport. He does not even belong to a state that has a strong cricket tradition. But he has something that no selector can measure on a scorecard: an absolute, unshakeable refusal to give up.
That boy was Sanju Viswanath Samson. And his journey from Pulluvila, a tiny coastal village in Kerala, through the gullies of Delhi, to the biggest stages in world cricket, is one of the most instructive stories in Indian sport. Not because of the talent, though there is plenty of it. But because of what it teaches every young cricketer about persistence, environment, mentorship, and the quiet power of believing in yourself when nobody else does.
The Backstory: A Footballer's Son Picks Up a Bat
Sanju was born on 11 November 1994 in Pulluvila, a fishing village near Vizhinjam in Thiruvananthapuram. His father, Samson Viswanath, was a Malayali who had moved to Delhi to join the police force. Before that, he was a serious footballer, good enough to represent Delhi in the Santosh Trophy. Sport was in the family's blood, but cricket was not the obvious path.
Growing up in the police colony in GTB Nagar, North Delhi, young Sanju played cricket the way millions of Indian children do: in the lanes between buildings, with taped tennis balls and makeshift stumps drawn on walls. His father noticed something early. The boy had hands. Soft, quick hands that found the middle of the bat with an ease that could not be taught. Viswanath started taking Sanju and his brother Saly to the practice sessions of the Delhi Police cricket team and roped in neighbourhood children to bowl at them.
Sanju has said in interviews that cricket was never a conscious choice.
"Since I was in school, I always thought I was a cricketer and behaved like one as well. It happened quite automatically. There was no specific point when I made the decision. My parents also supported me."
— Sanju Samson
He was enrolled at Rosary Senior Secondary School in Delhi and began formal training under coach Yashpal at the academy in DL DAV Model School, Shalimar Bagh. Even at that age, Yashpal could see the talent. The timing, the balance, the ability to play shots all around the ground. But talent in Delhi is cheap. The city produces cricketers the way Mumbai produces traffic jams. There are thousands of kids with good hands. Getting noticed, getting selected, getting a fair chance, that is where the story gets harder.
And it did get harder. Sanju tried out for the Delhi Under-13 team for the Dhruv Pandove Trophy. He did not get selected. Delhi's junior cricket circuit was overcrowded, politically charged, and brutally hard for an outsider with no connections. His father saw that the environment was not right and did something extraordinary: he took voluntary retirement from the Delhi Police, gave up a steady government pension, uprooted the entire family, and moved them back to Kerala so that Sanju and his brother could get a fair shot at cricket. Think about the weight of that sacrifice for a moment. Everything the family had built in Delhi, gone, on the belief that an 11-year-old boy had what it took if only someone would give him a chance.
It was a decision Sanju did not make himself. But it shaped everything that followed. And it is a reminder that behind almost every successful cricketer, there is a family that bet on them before anyone else would.
Lesson 1: Find the Right Coach and Commit Completely
When Sanju arrived in Thiruvananthapuram as an 11-year-old, he joined Masters Cricket Club before moving to train under Biju George, a Sports Authority of India coach based at the Medical College Ground. This is where Sanju's career truly began.
Biju George was not a soft coach. From the very first session, he made Sanju bat against the best bowlers in the academy, including senior players who had already represented Kerala. His philosophy was blunt:
"If you're good enough, you're old enough."
— Biju George, Sanju's coach in Kerala
And Sanju responded. He would travel 30 to 40 kilometres every day just to practise. He would arrive at the Medical College ground at 7 in the morning, even when it was raining. Not occasionally. Every single day. At age 11. That level of commitment is not something a coach can instil. It has to come from within. But what a good coach does is create the conditions where that commitment is rewarded rather than wasted.
Something fascinating happened to Sanju's game in Kerala. In Delhi, he described himself as a "V player." He batted within a narrow arc because he was afraid of getting out. If he got out, his father would send him home from practice. The fear kept him compact but limited. In Thiruvananthapuram, under Biju George's guidance, he found the freedom to play all around the ground. The flamboyance, the audacious stroke play, the ability to hit the same ball to five different parts of the ground, that was born in Kerala, not Delhi.
The lesson: A great coach does not just teach you technique. A great coach creates an environment where you feel free to express your natural game, while simultaneously demanding discipline and hard work. If your current coaching setup makes you afraid to play your shots, or, equally, if it lets you get away with being lazy, it might not be the right fit. The best player-coach relationships are built on trust, high standards, and the freedom to grow.
And the commitment part? There is no shortcut. Sanju was not born into cricketing privilege. He earned every opportunity through sheer volume of practice. If you are serious about cricket, ask yourself honestly: am I doing everything I can to improve, or am I hoping talent alone will be enough? Because talent alone is never enough.
Lesson 2: Let Early Success Fuel You, Not Define You
Sanju's talent exploded once he had the right environment. The numbers from his junior career are staggering. He scored 973 runs in the KSCA Inter-State Under-13 tournament, winning Player of the Tournament. He captained Kerala at Under-13, Under-16, and Under-19 levels. A double century in the Vijay Merchant Trophy earned him a place in the Kerala Ranji Trophy squad at just 14 years old, making him the youngest player ever selected for the state.
He made his first-class debut for Kerala in November 2011, aged 17, against Vidarbha. He was vice-captain of the Indian Under-19 team at the 2014 Under-19 World Cup, where he finished as India's highest run-scorer with three half-centuries.
And then came the IPL. In 2013, an 18-year-old Sanju Samson walked into the Rajasthan Royals trials. The captain at the time happened to be a man called Rahul Dravid. Dravid watched the young Keralite bat and picked him for the squad. Just like that, Sanju was in the IPL. He was named Emerging Player of the Year in his debut season after scoring 206 runs in 10 innings. At 18, he was sharing a dressing room with one of the greatest batsmen to ever play the game.
But here is the critical point: early success in cricket can be a trap. It creates expectations, both from others and from yourself. Sanju's career after that stunning first IPL season was not a straight line upward. It was a decade of dazzling innings followed by maddening inconsistency, of being on the fringes of the Indian team without nailing down a permanent spot, of hearing people say he was "talented but..." with a shrug.
The lesson: Early success is fuel, not a destination. If you score a hundred in an age-group tournament, that is wonderful. It proves you have ability. But it does not entitle you to anything. The players who build long careers are the ones who treat every good performance as a deposit in the bank, not a reason to coast. Use your early successes as evidence that your methods work, then keep working even harder.
Lesson 3: Doubt Is Normal. Belief Is a Choice.
This might be the most important lesson from Sanju's story, and it is one that every cricketer at every level needs to hear.
For years, Sanju Samson was the most talented player who could not quite get there. He would play a breathtaking innings one week and fail for the next five. He was in and out of the Indian team. Social media was brutal. Pundits questioned his temperament. And through all of it, Sanju questioned himself too.
After his match-winning 97 not out against the West Indies at the 2026 T20 World Cup, a knock that sent India into the semi-finals, he stood in front of the cameras and said something that stopped me in my tracks:
"It means the whole world actually to me. Right from the day I started playing, started dreaming to play for the country, this is the day I was waiting for. I've always had a very special journey with lots of ups and downs. I've kept on doubting myself, kept on thinking, what if, what if, can I make it, can I make it? But I kept on believing."
— Sanju Samson, after IND vs WI, T20 World Cup 2026
Read that again. One of the most naturally gifted batsmen in India kept doubting himself. He did not wake up every morning brimming with confidence. He wrestled with uncertainty. He wondered if he would ever make it. And he chose to believe anyway.
He also revealed that before that World Cup, he took a deliberate step back from the noise:
"I switched off my phone, switched off social media and just listened to myself."
— Sanju Samson
The lesson: Self-doubt is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign that you care. Every cricketer, from the kid playing his first inter-school match to the international star walking out at a World Cup, feels it. The difference is not whether you doubt yourself. The difference is whether you let that doubt make decisions for you.
When you are in a lean patch, when you have been dropped, when your technique feels off and every ball seems to find the edge, the most powerful thing you can do is make a conscious choice to keep believing. Not blindly, not without working on your game, but with the understanding that form is temporary and that your ability does not disappear just because the scoreboard says zero.
And the social media point? If external noise is drowning out your own instincts, turn it off. Your phone does not know what you are capable of. You do.
Lesson 4: Watch the Greats. Learn How They Think, Not Just How They Bat.
One of the most underrated advantages Sanju Samson had was proximity to greatness at a young age. At 18, his captain at Rajasthan Royals was Rahul Dravid. The following season, Dravid became the team's mentor. Sanju did not just play alongside Dravid. He studied him.
"In my first season, Rahul sir was the one who spotted me during the trials. He was the captain back then, looking out for young talent."
— Sanju Samson
And what he learned from Dravid was not about batting technique. It was about character.
"How he used to treat the young people, how he used to take care of the seniors, how he communicates, how he talks during meetings."
— Sanju Samson on Rahul Dravid
Sanju also spoke about learning from watching Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma closely, not just their shot-making but how they pace a T20 chase, how they adapt their game to different situations, how they handle pressure. He took what he observed and built it into his own game.
The lesson: If you have the opportunity to be around better players, grab it with both hands. And when you are around them, do not just watch what they do with the bat or ball. Watch how they prepare. Watch how they handle failure. Watch how they treat teammates. Watch how they think about the game.
You do not need to be in an IPL dressing room to do this. Watch interviews with players you admire. Read about their routines. And when you play against someone better than you, pay attention to the details. How do they set up at the crease? How do they rotate strike when the scoring is tough? How do they come back after a bad over? You can learn from anyone, anywhere, if you are paying attention.
Sanju has also been open about his own approach to fitness and preparation: focused, personalized, and intelligent. He spends 30 to 40 minutes on targeted training rather than hours of generic exercise, prioritising lower body strength, back strength, and flexibility. He follows a low-carbohydrate, high-protein diet and uses meditation and yoga for mental resilience. The takeaway? Train smart. Understand your body, understand your game, and build a routine that serves your needs, not someone else's template.
The Bigger Picture: What Sanju's Story Really Means
If there is one thread that runs through every chapter of Sanju Samson's journey, it is this: the path is never straight, and that is perfectly fine.
He was born in a coastal village in Kerala. He grew up in a police colony in Delhi. He was rejected by Delhi cricket. He moved states. He rebuilt his game from scratch under a new coach. He burst onto the IPL stage at 18, then spent nearly a decade in and out of the Indian team. He doubted himself, repeatedly. And he kept going.
Cricket loves a tidy narrative. Prodigy arrives, dominates, wins everything. Real careers are messier. They have detours, setbacks, periods of silence, and moments of self-doubt that no scorecard captures. The cricketers who make it are not the ones with the cleanest journeys. They are the ones who refuse to stop walking.
So if you are a young cricketer reading this, here is what I want you to take away. Your circumstances do not define your ceiling. Your current form does not define your ability. The people who doubt you, including yourself, do not get to write the final chapter. Find the right environment. Find the right coach. Put in the work, every single day. Study the game. Take care of your body and your mind. And when the doubt creeps in, as it will, make the choice to keep believing.
Because somewhere in this country, right now, there is an 11-year-old kid travelling 40 kilometres to practice before school. And if Sanju's story teaches us anything, it is that the journey is worth every kilometre.
Key Takeaways
| Lesson | What Sanju Did | What You Can Do |
|---|---|---|
| Find the right coach | Trained under Biju George with total commitment, 40 km daily | Seek a coach who challenges you and gives you freedom to express your game |
| Use early success as fuel | IPL Emerging Player at 18, then kept working through inconsistency | Treat good performances as proof your methods work, not a reason to coast |
| Choose belief over doubt | Battled years of self-doubt but kept believing | Accept doubt as normal. Switch off the noise. Trust your process. |
| Learn from the greats | Studied Dravid's character, Kohli's chase instincts, Rohit's game sense | Watch how top players think, prepare, and recover, not just how they bat |