In our campaign against “clean rot” in the Hyderabad Cricket Association (HCA), as a responsible media, we wish to provide aggrieved parents a platform to express their experiences through these columns. Your e-newspaper’s decision to become a facilitator is not with any ill intention, but with the sole purpose of protecting the game and safeguarding the careers of aspiring, talented cricketers, at a time when a truncated apex council has converted a once-reputed institution into its personal fiefdom. We hope the responsible BCCI, other probing agencies, and courts dealing with pending matters act swiftly and save the game. — EDITOR
By An Aggrieved Parent
Hyderabad cricket is still reeling from the age-fraud scandal and the HCA’s puzzling “360-degree” handling of banned players, and just as the community attempts to process those revelations, yet another disturbing episode has emerged—one that once again exposes the deepening cracks in transparency and governance within the Hyderabad Cricket Association. This time the child caught in the administrative maze is a hardworking youngster, Manvit Kasarboina, whose consistent performances on the ground were not enough to secure even a place among the U-16 probables. What has shocked his family more than the non-selection is the absolute refusal of HCA officials to provide clarity or even furnish the bone test report on which the decision was supposedly based.
Manvit’s father, Mr. Srinivas Kasarboina, travelled over 300 kilometres from Bhadrachalam to Hyderabad with nothing more than a straightforward and legitimate request: to see the bone test report that determined his son’s eligibility. Instead of receiving information, he was made to wait for hours without courtesy, communication, or even basic consideration. Despite repeated appeals, no official agreed to share the report. The family was eventually told that the document would be forwarded through WhatsApp, yet nothing came—no file, no message, no explanation. When the father returned the next day, hoping for some clarity, the ordeal continued, and then came a justification that only deepened the confusion: “BCCI rules do not allow us to furnish the bone test report.” This claim, however, does not align with the practical reality that bone-age test results are used strictly for sports eligibility, are not confidential medical documents, and are not barred by any BCCI guideline from being shared with the concerned player’s family.
What complicated the situation further was the bizarre case of another player from the same batch, Prithveeshwar, who, according to records last year, was older than Manvit, but has somehow become younger in this year’s assessment. Such a reversal is medically impossible and administratively indefensible, raising serious questions about the integrity of the bone test process, its supervision, and the chain of custody of the reports. Whether the discrepancies stem from procedural lapses, improper documentation, or more serious irregularities, only a transparent examination can reveal. However, the very refusal to share reports fuels suspicion, especially in a climate where parents already feel selections are influenced by factors other than merit.
The fundamental question remains: why is the HCA treating bone test reports like classified files? These reports form the basis of eligibility in age-group cricket; families have every right to see them, especially when they directly impact a child’s future. The reluctance to provide them raises doubts about whether the tests were properly conducted, whether multiple versions exist, or whether administrative oversight has simply collapsed. Parents are left to wonder what the association is trying to conceal and who exactly controls this sensitive process.
With no answers forthcoming and every request being sidestepped, Mr. Srinivas had no option but to approach the Uppal Police Station—not out of confrontation, but out of sheer helplessness. No parent should be forced into a police station merely to access his own child’s age-verification report. This distressing development itself reflects a system that has lost its sense of responsibility towards young players and their families.
The case of Manvit Kasarboina is not an isolated one. It represents a broader, worrying pattern that many parents across Hyderabad have spoken about: selectors with conflicts of interest; private academies allegedly influencing pathways; questionable documentation; missing or inaccessible match and trial data; and a general culture where even basic transparency has become a rarity. When bone tests, meant to ensure fairness, turn into tools that appear to exclude deserving players without explanation, the damage extends far beyond one child. An entire generation of talented youngsters is at risk of being pushed out, not because they lack skill, but because they lack influence.
The HCA must answer urgent questions. Why were Manvit’s bone test results withheld? Does any genuine BCCI rule prohibit sharing such reports? Who conducted the tests, and what is the chain of custody? How did such glaring age discrepancies arise between last year and this year? Why must parents chase officials endlessly for basic information? And what system ensures accountability when officials mislead or withhold information from players’ families?
The treatment endured by the Kasarboina family and the inexplicable contradictions in age-test outcomes highlight a painful truth: transparency in the HCA is missing, selection procedures lack consistency, age verification norms require strict oversight, and genuine young cricketers are being made to pay the price for systemic opacity. This article seeks not confrontation but accountability. Hyderabad cricket deserves systems, not secrets; parents deserve clarity, not stonewalling; children deserve fairness, not uncertainty; and above all, the sport deserves integrity.
The fight for justice, transparency, and dignity will continue—because the future of Hyderabad cricket depends on it.
