Vinay Rao
At face value, the Hyderabad Cricket Association exists for one purpose: cricket. That is its mandate, its identity, its reason to exist. But increasingly, an uncomfortable question refuses to go away—has the “C” in HCA quietly lost its meaning?
Because if recent developments are anything to go by, cricket no longer seems to be at the heart of the association’s functioning.
In the corridors of influence, the “C” appears to have been redefined. Not cricket, but corruption. Not competition, but collusion. Not development, but control. Add to that cronyism, cartelisation, and sheer convenience—the kind that serves interests, not players. Somewhere along the way, the game itself has been pushed to the margins.
What is more worrying is how quickly the old playbook seems to be making a comeback. Even before the ink has dried on the recent elections for key administrative posts like Secretary and Treasurer, familiar patterns are re-emerging. The whispers are growing louder—of closed-door strategy sessions, of weekly breakfast meetings, of a well-entrenched network of power brokers regrouping with renewed intent.
Names that have long been associated with backroom influence—SM, AA, PG, VM, SA, JM, TB, JA, NG and others—are once again believed to be circling the administrative core. Their agenda, insiders suggest, is hardly subtle: regain control, dismantle oversight, disrupt whatever reforms have begun to take shape, and, crucially, stall the Telangana T20 league vision before it gathers momentum.
At the centre of this unfolding power struggle is the court-appointed administrator, Justice P. Naveen Rao. The immediate plan being discussed, sources indicate, is to convene a Special General Meeting (SGM), push through a resolution, and take the legal route to seek his removal.
If that effort succeeds, the consequences are not difficult to predict. We have seen this script before. It could open the floodgates for pliable selectors, handpicked committees, and questionable decisions dressed up as administrative necessity. Teams could find themselves promoted without merit, diluting the competitive structure, while cricketing decisions once again fall under the shadow of influence rather than performance.
This is not alarmism—it is déjà vu.
Over the past decade, the HCA has lurched from one crisis to another. Court interventions have become routine. Administrators have come and gone. Investigative agencies have stepped in more than once to examine governance issues involving key stakeholders. Instability has not been the exception; it has been the norm.
And now, just when there are faint signs of structure returning, the cycle threatens to repeat itself.
The proposed SGM, in particular, raises serious legal and ethical questions. Multiple cases are already under judicial scrutiny—ranging from the legality of previous meetings and decisions to the very appointment and continuation of the current administrator. In such a scenario, can an SGM legitimately attempt to override or challenge a structure that is already before the courts?
More importantly, would the judiciary be inclined to reverse its own decision simply because a “new Apex” claims authority? Has anything fundamentally changed within the system to justify such a move?
There is little evidence to suggest so.
If anything, the court may well view continued oversight as necessary, perhaps even essential, especially at a time when some degree of order is finally visible. Yes, the current administration is not without its flaws. There have been delays, selection-related concerns, and a sense that decision-making could be more decisive and inclusive.
But compared to the prolonged dysfunction that preceded it, there is at least a semblance of accountability and structure.
For Justice Naveen Rao, the path ahead is equally clear. Accessibility must improve. Engagement cannot remain limited to a select advisory circle. Decisions need to be quicker, firmer, and more transparent. Contentious calls from the past must be reviewed, and a robust grievance redressal mechanism must be put in place. Reform cannot remain a concept on paper—it must be felt on the ground by clubs, players, and stakeholders.
Yet, perhaps the most troubling aspect of this entire episode is not the lobbying—it is the silence surrounding it.
Everyone seems to know what is at stake. Members are aware. Stakeholders understand the risks. And yet, there is a collective reluctance to speak up. Many appear to be waiting—for the courts to intervene, for the government to step in, or for the Board of Control for Cricket in India to take a call.
But silence, in moments like these, is not neutral. It is enabling.
The Hyderabad Cricket Association today stands at a decisive crossroads. It must choose between two competing visions—one driven by control and influence, the other by cricket and integrity.
Because in the end, the “C” in HCA cannot be allowed to stand for corruption, collusion, or control.
It must, unequivocally, stand for cricket.
And reclaiming that meaning is not the job of one administrator or one court order—it is the responsibility of every stakeholder who still believes the game deserves better.
