Special Correspondent
What is unfolding within the Hyderabad Cricket Association (HCA) is no longer merely a story of administrative drift. It has become a case study in how institutions hollow themselves out when authority is exercised without mandate, and oversight becomes symbolic rather than substantive.
At the centre of this unfolding crisis is a truncated Apex Council that continues to wield power whose legal foundations are, at best, contestable. Even more troubling is that this is happening under the supervision of a High Court–appointed judge tasked with overseeing the day-to-day functioning of the Association. The question increasingly whispered in cricketing and legal circles alike is not conspiratorial but constitutional: if oversight exists, why does governance continue to slide deeper into ambiguity and defiance of its own byelaws?
This is not an accusation of impropriety; it is a demand for clarity. If the supervisory role carries the authority to correct deviations, then the absence of corrective action becomes conspicuous. If, on the other hand, the role is purely observational, then institutional honesty demands that this limitation be placed on record before the Court itself. An oversight mechanism that can neither enforce nor escalate risks becoming a ceremonial presence in a system already struggling with credibility.
Suspension Without a Trial
The most glaring example of governance by convenience is the “suspension” of the Association’s President, Secretary, and Treasurer. The HCA byelaws are unambiguous in one critical respect: Clauses 6.6 and 14.3 speak of disqualification, not suspension. Where suspension is vaguely referenced, it lies within the limited domain of the Ombudsman, and only as an interim measure—pending enquiry and for a maximum period of six months, within which adjudication must be completed.
Yet, what transpired was a sweeping action by a truncated Apex Council, without a completed internal enquiry, without final adjudication, and without a clear anchor in the byelaws. This raises a fundamental question of jurisprudence that even a first-year law student would recognise: an accused is not guilty unless convicted by a competent court.
The suspended office bearers have secured bail after spending weeks in custody. Their legal status, therefore, remains that of the accused—not the convicted. On what legal footing, then, does an indefinite “suspension” stand?
Speculation has filled the vacuum left by institutional silence. Are there conditions attached to their bail that discourage them from approaching the courts to challenge the suspension? Have they chosen not to litigate because they concede to the charges framed by the Anti-Corruption Bureau? Or is there, as some in cricketing circles whisper, political pressure aimed at reshaping the HCA’s leadership to suit external preferences?
These are not allegations. These are questions that arise naturally when governance is opaque and accountability is absent. In any statutory or quasi-statutory body, suspension is not meant to be eternal. It is an interim measure, not a substitute for trial, enquiry, or conviction. An “eternal suspension” is not discipline—it is displacement without due process.
An Association That Resembles a Convention Hall
Today, the HCA increasingly resembles a functional hall rather than a statutory sports body. People walk in like event managers and guests, conduct business of personal relevance, and walk out without fear of rules or repercussions.
Cricket, of course, continues. Matches are played. Tournaments are held. But the more uncomfortable question is whether the game and its players remain the objective, or merely the medium.
Some seek positions. Some seek posts. Some seek power. Some seek tenders, contracts, and influence.
Cricket becomes collateral—a convenient backdrop against which personal ambitions are pursued.
Ironically, very few within the system appear to have actually read the HCA byelaws. Yet, everyone claims expertise in interpreting them. Selective quotations, imaginative readings, and convenient omissions now pass for governance. The foundational truth—that the General Body is the supreme authority of the Association—is routinely ignored. Decisions that should flow upward from the membership are instead imposed downward by individuals and ad-hoc committees, inviting paralysis and, inevitably, judicial intervention.
Committees Without Mandate, Power Without Authority
A byelaw amendment exercise is currently underway. On paper, this is reform. In practice, it has become a farce.
No clear record exists of:
- What the original provisions were,
- Where violations occurred, and
- What genuinely requires correction?
A committee has been formed, populated by individuals whose own understanding of the byelaws is, charitably, limited. Their legitimacy rests not on General Body approval but on appointment by those who benefit from future votes. Even the membership of this committee is unclear. Emails and WhatsApp messages from “random” individuals seek suggestions, reducing a constitutional exercise into an informal consultation with no transparency, authority, or legal sanctity.
This pattern repeats across governance.
There is no post of “Acting President” or “Acting Secretary” in the byelaws. When the President is unavailable, the Vice-President performs duties; he does not assume office. The Joint Secretary’s role is similarly limited—assisting the Secretary, recording minutes, and ensuring proceedings are placed before the AGM. Yet, in practice, authority is exercised far beyond these prescribed limits.
General Body Meetings are adjourned casually, despite no provision for such adjournment in the byelaws. The Governing Council of the Telangana Premier League is constituted outside the AGM, in direct contravention of the rules that vest this authority solely in the General Body.
Financial Opacity, Democratic Erosion
Financial governance, too, reflects this culture of convenience. The byelaws vest oversight in the General Body through audited accounts, budget approvals, and AGM ratification. In reality, expenditures are incurred without prior approval, tenders are floated without disclosure, and audited statements are delayed or rendered toothless.
Committees function without a mandate. Their tenure is undefined. Their minutes are neither circulated nor ratified. A committee without approval is not governance—it is usurpation.
Disciplinary mechanisms are applied selectively. Some office bearers face swift action; others are insulated despite comparable or more serious allegations. Conflict-of-interest provisions are ignored. Declarations are not made. Recusals do not occur. Individuals influence decisions that affect clubs, vendors, and, in some cases, relatives.
Member clubs—the very foundation of the Association—are marginalised through inadequate notices, strategically timed meetings, and procedural barriers that dilute participation and dissent. What remains is a democratic shell, hollowed out from within.
Oversight or Ornament?
Court intervention is often portrayed as unavoidable. In truth, it is an indictment. Courts step in not because cricket requires judicial supervision, but because internal mechanisms—the Ombudsman, the General Body, and the Association’s own disciplinary framework—are systematically weakened, sidelined, or bypassed.
The presence of a High Court–appointed administrator was meant to restore institutional credibility. If that presence cannot halt, question, or even formally record deviations from the byelaws, then the distinction between oversight and ornamentation becomes uncomfortably thin.
Transparency, after all, is the cornerstone of any functioning organisation. Given the administrator’s immense adjudicatory and administrative experience, even modest, structured interventions could help rebuild confidence within the Hyderabad Cricket Association. Periodic communication—such as a brief fortnightly governance update—and the mentoring of a small cohort of emerging office-bearers, including a former woman cricketer, could curb speculation, temper rumour mills, and help nurture future custodians grounded in due process rather than convenience.
The Central Question
When rules are followed only when convenient, governance turns into theatre. Accountability becomes selective. Cricket becomes collateral damage.
And so, the question now confronting the HCA is neither rhetorical nor political—it is constitutional:
