MS Shanker
Indian cricket is booming on television screens and in stadiums, but the same cannot be said of the governance behind it. The Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI), the most powerful and wealthiest cricketing body in the world, is tethered to state associations that are riddled with corruption, nepotism, and endless court battles. Instead of nurturing young talent, many of these associations function like private empires, run by administrators who cling to power, manipulate selection systems, and treat cricket funds as personal wealth.
The irony is galling: while the BCCI prepares to expand the Indian Premier League (IPL) to a 94-match extravaganza by 2028, it shows little urgency in addressing the deep rot at the grassroots. Money, it seems, flows freely for entertainment cricket, but accountability and reform remain hostage to local barons in state associations.
Across India, cricket disputes are more likely to be settled in courtrooms than on fields. The Delhi & District Cricket Association (DDCA) has long been notorious for power struggles, financial mismanagement, and endless litigation. The Karnataka State Cricket Association (KSCA), once a model of professionalism, has also not escaped factional feuds and allegations of cronyism. The Maharashtra Cricket Association has been dragged into controversies over land deals, while the Punjab Cricket Association has seen bitter family feuds spill into cricket administration.
Closer to home, the Hyderabad Cricket Association (HCA) is in tatters. What was once a nursery of Indian talent has been reduced to a case study in how corruption and nepotism can ruin a sporting ecosystem. From misused funds to bogus club memberships, from political interference to city-centric bias, the HCA has alienated cricketers from rural Telangana. Its former presidents and office-bearers have faced serious allegations, some even facing criminal cases.
This pattern is not accidental — it is systemic. State associations have been left to function with little accountability, emboldened by the fact that their BCCI vote matters more than their cricketing record.
It is against this backdrop that Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath’s recent remarks acquire significance. Representing India’s most populous state, he pointedly noted that one cricket association cannot possibly serve millions of aspiring cricketers. With a population of 25 lakh in each district, a single body cannot do justice to the talent spread across Uttar Pradesh. The Chief Minister has argued that the state deserves more than a lone voice in Indian cricket—at least four associations. Beyond Lucknow, the northern, eastern, and western regions of the state also merit direct affiliations with the BCCI to nurture talent and produce national and world-class cricketers.
The BCCI constitution, however, operates with double standards. Gujarat and Maharashtra enjoy multiple associations—Gujarat Cricket Association, Saurashtra Cricket Association, and Baroda Cricket Association in one state; Mumbai, Maharashtra, and Vidarbha in the other. If the justification is history and geography, why is the same logic denied to states like Uttar Pradesh, where the sheer scale of players makes additional representation imperative? Why is Telangana’s demand consistently brushed aside, even when Hyderabad and Andhra Pradesh were treated as separate associations before bifurcation?
Nowhere is the injustice more visible than in Telangana. The Telangana Cricket Association (TCA), led by a former Osmania University and Nizam College captain, Guruva Reddy, who once played county cricket for Sussex, has been fighting an uphill legal battle for recognition. His only fault? Demanding that cricket opportunities not be monopolized by Hyderabad city administrators.
For years, rural Telangana players have been shut out. They may toil on dusty pitches in Karimnagar, Warangal, or Khammam, or far-flung Adilabad, but when selection trials arrive, doors remain closed. The HCA has become a Hyderabad-only club, denying opportunities to thousands. The TCA’s case is simple: if Andhra Pradesh once had both Andhra and Hyderabad as affiliates, why can’t Telangana, after bifurcation, have its own rightful representation?
It is here that the contradiction bites hardest. The BCCI is ready to stretch the IPL to 94 matches — a move clearly designed to maximize broadcast revenue. Yet, it refuses to expand its own membership canvas to accommodate neglected states and associations. The commercial face of Indian cricket grows larger each year, but the foundation — domestic cricket — remains cracked and poorly served.
Talent is not scarce in rural India. From Ranchi emerged M. S. Dhoni; from Meerut came Praveen Kumar and Bhuvneshwar Kumar; from humble beginnings rose Mohammed Shami. What India needs is not more IPL matches, but more avenues for state and district players to find recognition.
As a matter of fact, the BCCI’s objectives—while representing India and using the name of India officially—should also be bound by Articles 14, 19, and 21 of the Indian Constitution, which compel it to provide equal opportunity and a transparent platform for all citizens across every corner of India.
The principle of Parens Patriae makes it clear: in the absence of a BCCI-recognised umbrella body in any part of a state or region, the Board must identify an alternative association to cover the region, or directly step in, working with local authorities to develop infrastructure and nurture talent.
Further, the BCCI Constitution reiterates in Chapter 3 – Membership Rules that there are two categories of membership:
- Full Member – with state/region-level jurisdictional authority, voting rights, and access to BCCI committees.
- Associate Member – without voting rights, with or without jurisdiction within a state. Exceptional cases such as Railways, Services, and Universities are included here, with limited, specific voting rights.
Against this backdrop, Telangana, as a newly formed state, should have been conferred Full Membership under Rule 3(d), or at the very least Associate Membership under the constitutional provision. But neither the objectives of the BCCI nor the rules of its constitution are followed uniformly across Indian cricket. Tragically, administrative errors and political oversights continue to deny fair representation.
Disparities persist even after the Justice R. M. Lodha reforms, which were only partially implemented. Worse still, those reforms did not touch upon ground-level infrastructure, talent identification, or representation within a state. Maharashtra and Gujarat continue with three state associations each, while Chandigarh city alone hosts bodies from Haryana, Punjab, and Chandigarh. Meanwhile, small states like Sikkim, Nagaland, and Manipur, with little talent pool, enjoy full membership. Jharkhand and Chhattisgarh were given recognition soon after bifurcation. Only Telangana remains an orphan, with no constitutional justification for its betrayal.
There is also no reason why Uttar Pradesh, with a population of 25 crore, should have only one association, while Maharashtra, Gujarat, and Chandigarh enjoy three each.
The solution is staring BCCI in the face. At its upcoming Annual General Meeting on September 28, where a new President will be elected, the Board must muster the will to amend its constitution. States with vast populations or unique circumstances must be allowed more than one affiliated body. If Gujarat and Maharashtra can enjoy this privilege, why not Uttar Pradesh and Telangana?
Such reforms will break the monopoly of corrupt state units, democratize cricket governance, and inject fresh accountability. It will also create more grounds, more infrastructure, more tournaments — and eventually, more players ready to wear the India cap. For a nation of 140 crore cricket-mad citizens, nothing less will do.
The question, then, is stark: will the BCCI continue to protect entrenched, scandal-ridden associations, or will it side with the future of Indian cricket? The courts may drag on, but the game cannot wait. Reform is overdue, and the time to act is now.
