Special Correspondent
For nearly 15 years, elections in the Hyderabad Cricket Association have followed a depressingly predictable script: alliances stitched together before polling day collapse the moment results are declared. What follows is not governance, but guerrilla warfare — suspensions, counter-suspensions, court petitions, police complaints, factional press conferences, and eventually administrative paralysis. Instead of headlines about league expansion, talent scouting, infrastructure upgrades, or Ranji glory, Hyderabad cricket has too often found itself in the news for arrests, allegations, and internal sabotage.
The damage is not abstract. It is measurable.
In just over a decade, HCA has functioned under three court-appointed administrators and one appointed by the Board of Control for Cricket in India. Administrators are meant to be emergency tools — constitutional defibrillators used when a body flatlines. They are not meant to become recurring features of governance. When both the judiciary and the parent board repeatedly step in, the message is unmistakable: the system has failed to regulate itself.
This is precisely the dysfunction the Lodha reforms were designed to prevent. After the 2013 IPL spot-fixing scandal shook Indian cricket to its core, the Supreme Court constituted the Lodha Committee to clean up governance. Its recommendations — later upheld by the Supreme Court of India and incorporated into the BCCI constitution — were not cosmetic. They sought structural correction: transparency in administration, conflict-of-interest safeguards, tenure limits to prevent power capture, professionalisation, depoliticisation, and accountability to the sport rather than factions.
State associations, including HCA, were expected to absorb not just the language but the spirit of reform. Yet Hyderabad’s recurring instability suggests that while the vocabulary of reform has been adopted, its discipline has not.
The most urgent issue before the 2026 elections is institutional voting. Institutions were historically granted membership because they fielded teams, employed cricketers, and contributed infrastructure. But when institutions that no longer actively participate in cricket remain decisive in elections, governance becomes detached from the game itself. Voting power must flow from participation, not legacy entitlement.
Institutional Members should retain voting rights only if they consistently participate in HCA-conducted or HCA-approved tournaments and demonstrably support registered cricketers, coaches, or support staff through employment or contractual engagement. Institutions that remain inactive in cricket may retain membership status, but their voting rights should be suspended until they meaningfully contribute. That is not exclusion — it is accountability.
Equally essential are voting safeguards: no proxy voting, only duly authorised representatives, and a clear preference for former Hyderabad, state, or first-class cricketers or formally mandated officials. Serving government officers or political office-bearers acting in official capacity must stay out. Cricket bodies are meant to be run by cricket stakeholders, not absentee power centres. That principle lies at the heart of the Lodha framework.
Conflict of interest is another reform that cannot remain ornamental. No individual should simultaneously control roles involving selection, appointments, contracting, supervision, and disciplinary authority. When one hand selects, signs, supervises, and judges, transparency collapses. Without strict enforcement, governance becomes self-serving, mistrust deepens, and players lose faith in the system. The Apex Council must clearly define incompatible roles and enforce relinquishment without hesitation.
Then there is the nine-year tenure rule. It was introduced to end perpetual control by entrenched groups who rotate positions but never relinquish power. If applied sincerely — not selectively — it can usher in generational change, professional management, and reduced factional baggage. Hyderabad cricket cannot claim renewal while recycling the same power blocs under different designations.
Too often, elections have become negotiations for influence rather than contests of vision. Bargaining for “shares,” lobbying for posts, and crafting arithmetic alliances have replaced conversations about league efficiency, infrastructure expansion, player welfare, and restoring credibility with the BCCI. Stakeholders must ask a simple question before casting their vote: who is speaking about cricket — and who is speaking only about numbers?
Reform declared after elections is public relations. Reform implemented before elections is intent. If the same patterns persist, the next term risks ending exactly like the previous ones — in intervention, paralysis, and reputational damage.
Fifteen years. Four administrators. Endless controversies.
That record alone demands decisive correction.
Hyderabad has produced icons, match-winners, and generations of passionate cricketers. Its administration must reflect that legacy, not undermine it. The 2026 election is not merely about choosing office-bearers. It is about deciding whether HCA will finally govern itself with responsibility and credibility — or continue drifting from crisis to crisis.
Reform now — or prepare for another breakdown.
