Prime Minister Narendra Modi recently declared, while addressing the Sansad Khel Mahotsav, that irregularities in team selection and sports administration have largely ended after 2014. In many disciplines, that assertion carries weight. India today is a global sporting force—breaking medal tallies at the Olympics and asserting dominance in badminton, wrestling, athletics, and tennis. Sports federations once synonymous with corruption have been compelled to reform, largely because they now fall under tighter government oversight and the National Sports Policy. But there is one glaring, politically protected exception: cricket. Cricket in India is not governed by the Ministry of Sports. It is controlled by the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI)—a body that earns thousands of crores annually, runs the world’s richest league in the IPL, wields monopoly power, and yet continues to masquerade as a “charitable trust” to avoid paying income tax. This contradiction is not merely absurd; it is indefensible. While cricket has now been brought under the new National Sports Policy, it comes with riders—loopholes that every sports lover hopes Prime Minister Modi will personally intervene to close. The consequences of this preferential treatment are visible at the grassroots, nowhere more starkly than in the Hyderabad Cricket Association (HCA), which has become a case study in financial opacity, nepotism, and administrative decay. This is an association that once produced giants of Indian cricket—Ghulam Ahmed, ML Jaisimha, Syed Abid Ali, Shivlal Yadav, Arshad Ayub, Mohammed Azharuddin, VVS Laxman, and Venkatapathi Raju. Hyderabad cricket was once a factory of excellence. What followed post-2010 was not a decline; it was a collapse. As BCCI funding ballooned with the advent of T20 cricket and the IPL, state associations like the HCA transformed from talent nurseries into cash-rich fiefdoms. Flush with money and insulated from accountability, former cricketers-turned-administrators allegedly converted cricket bodies into personal estates—where selections were questioned, contracts became opaque, and governance eroded beyond recognition. Funds meant to strengthen grassroots cricket instead became instruments of patronage. At the heart of this dysfunction lies a larger structural scandal: the BCCI’s continued classification as a charitable trust.
Aided by IPL earnings and ICC distributions, the BCCI posted a surplus of ₹1,623.08 crore for 2023–24, up from ₹1,167.99 crore the previous year. Against that backdrop, how does an entity that earns over ₹6,000 crore annually—through broadcasting rights, sponsorships, franchise fees, and ticketing—continue to qualify as “charitable”? What public charity is being served when IPL franchises are sold for thousands of crores, players command multi-million-rupee contracts, and administrators wield unchecked power, while the exchequer receives nothing in return? The Modi government has not shied away from bold reforms—be it GST, the Insolvency and Bankruptcy Code, or cleaning up Olympic sports federations. It has even brought the BCCI under the broader framework of the National Sports Policy. Yet, on the crucial questions of taxation and legal status, the government has conspicuously looked the other way. Why? That question refuses to go away, especially when critics point to the perceived political proximity between cricket administration and the ruling establishment. The presence of Jay Shah, son of Union Home Minister Amit Shah, in a powerful position within the BCCI ecosystem has only sharpened perceptions—fair or otherwise—of political insulation. Whether or not influence is exercised, the appearance of protection damages institutional credibility. This is no longer about cricket alone. It is about rule of law, equality before the law, and governance ethics. Other sports federations—the Hockey India Federation, Indian Tennis Federation, and Football bodies—do not enjoy such sweeping exemptions. Why should cricket be a sacred cow? Why should BCCI remain outside the tax net when it operates as a commercial entertainment behemoth? If Prime Minister Modi truly believes irregularities in sports administration have ended, then this is the moment to prove it. Reclassify BCCI as a regular sports body. End its charitable trust status. Bring its earnings under the tax framework. Enforce transparency on state associations like HCA. Cricket does not belong to administrators or politicians. It belongs to players, fans, and the nation. Charity begins with honesty—and there is nothing charitable about tax-free billions. The ball is now firmly in Modi’s court. Will he play the reformist stroke—or defend an indefensible status quo?
