By Vinay Rao
Hyderabad cricket has, for decades, been trapped in a cycle of influence-driven selections, entrenched power groups, and families quietly benefiting from the offices they hold. This culture did not begin yesterday.
The son of a former secretary found his way into state teams during his father’s tenure; an ex–Vice President’s academy trainees frequently surfaced in age-group squads irrespective of performance; and even families of former India players who later became HCA office-bearers enjoyed uninterrupted representation across categories.
What is unfolding today in the U-16, U-19, and U-23 groups is therefore not an aberration but a continuation of a long-standing rot that has weakened Hyderabad cricket’s credibility and competitive strength.
Against this backdrop, the selection of HCA Councillor Sunil Agarwal’s son, Kush Agarwal, for the U-23 side raises unavoidable and uncomfortable questions. With his father holding an administrative position, the basic principle of avoiding conflict of interest comes into immediate focus. The concern is about he exerting pressure due to his official position in the association and disturbing the working of the committee.
The question is not whether a committee can make a judgment call; it is whether such a call can be justified when merit, form, and basic selection standards offer no rational explanation.
Under BCCI Rule 38, and within HCA’s own ethics framework, a conflict of interest arises whenever an administrator is in a position to directly or indirectly influence a selection. The rule is explicit: in such circumstances, the administrator must fully recuse themselves from any selection-related discussions, decisions, or communications. Whether such recusal was formally declared, documented or followed is something the association owes clarity on, because the perception of impropriety is already severe, and perception is often as damaging as the act itself.
The deeper problem, however, is systemic. Selectors, unable to monitor every local match or league fixture, often depend on inputs from club circles, academies, and informal networks. This is where influence silently flows into the system. A recommendation here, a strategically timed phone call there, pressure from a politically powerful academy, or the subtle weight of an office-bearer’s proximity – these are the real levers that determine who enters probables and who is quietly shut out. The victims are always the same: players who perform consistently but lack connections or patronage. Their statistics do not matter because their names do not circulate within the “right” circles.
The U-23 category suffers the most because it is the final bridge to senior cricket. At this stage, merit should be uncompromising, performance should be the only currency, and selections must be immune from the influence of any kind. But when this category becomes a playground for favouritism, proximity to officials, and academic pressure, the damage is far more dangerous. It distorts the talent pipeline, disrupts the transition to senior cricket, and ultimately weakens the Hyderabad team’s competitiveness at the national level. Year after year, talented young players lose crucial opportunities not due to lack of ability, but because someone else’s influence outweighs their hard-earned performance.
The only way forward is to rebuild the system on transparency, evidence, and accountability. Administrators with relatives in contention must mandatorily recuse themselves and formally record it. Selection must be driven by full-season performance data, match videos, defined criteria and objective weightage given to form, fitness, and match impact. Selection meetings should be conducted privately, without external interference, with proper minutes maintained. Independent oversight by a neutral ethics officer becomes essential in any case involving officials’ family members, to ensure that decisions are judged purely on merit. Publishing probabilities, along with brief rationales, can restore confidence and minimise speculation.
Hyderabad cricket has the talent, depth, and enthusiasm to compete with the best in India. What it lacks is a clean, credible selection system that rewards performance without fear or favour. Until conflicts of interest are addressed with seriousness, influence networks are dismantled, and opaque decision-making is replaced by transparent processes, Hyderabad will continue losing promising players long before they reach their peak. The tragedy is not just individual careers lost, but the slow erosion of the state’s cricketing future — an erosion caused not by lack of talent, but by a system unwilling to protect it.
