Why the IPL can't be much more than a launch pad?

In recent days I have had the opportunity to watch Ashish Reddy, Hanuma Vihari, Manan Vohra, Rahul Shukla and some others whose existence television only sporadically acknowledges. If you've looked at scorecards of domestic cricket, you know the names, but you probably only know them merely by the numbers they generate. The IPL allows you to see them, it gives them a platform, and that is one of the reasons I look forward to it every year.

A couple of years ago Saurabh Tiwary told me that he scored a lot of runs for Jharkhand but nobody knew him. He made a couple of thirties for Mumbai Indians and suddenly he was being talked about. It put him in the Indian squad and in the IPL auction. He may have had a financial windfall but it didn't do too much for his future in Indian cricket; he remains, at best, a fringe player. At least at this stage. It tells you a bit about the IPL.

What the tournament does give you, and give you better than anything else in international cricket at the moment, is a stage and an opportunity. It doesn't give you too much more, but if you are a young man, you should be willing to give anything for that much. Some take the opportunity, others don't. Some believe the opportunity is the pinnacle of all they ever wanted to do, others think it is the beginning of life in another world. But it doesn't guarantee you anything, often not even a spot in the Ranji Trophy, as Paul Valthaty and Manvinder Bisla discovered. And as Tiwary now knows, the reputation you acquire in the IPL doesn't count for too much in the Ranji Trophy either.

And an IPL match is like an episode in a long-running soap. You don't want to miss the action as it unfolds, but people remember only bits and pieces thereafter. You can therefore trend on Twitter for a day, maybe be talked about for another week, but that is it. Arun Karthik knows it well. A six off the last ball for the Royal Challengers in the Champions League made him an overnight hero but that was it. It isn't like being in a feature film, where a blockbuster performance is remembered for years - that is the equivalent of a Test hundred.

The reason I am saying this is that people either give the IPL way too much importance or seek to get noticed by trying to knock it off its pedestal. Neither is right. The IPL is not a certificate of performance in other forms of cricket. We saw that with Swapnil Asnodkar, with Valthaty, with Manpreet Singh Gony, with Siddharth Trivedi. It is merely an opportunity that you have to take again and again. It doesn't make you a good first-class cricketer - that is a different game. It makes people look out for you, but that is about the only advantage, even if a significant one.

It helped cricketers liked R Ashwin and Ravindra Jadeja, because they used the stage to draw attention towards themselves. They didn't make it in first-class cricket, and thereafter in Test cricket, because they were good in the IPL. They did it because they bowled hundreds of overs when very few people were watching, and perfected their craft. They became ready elsewhere and used the IPL as an opportunity to announce themselves to the world.

That is how I believe the IPL must be seen. As an event that celebrates a specific ability and at a specific moment in time. People who cannot, or are unwilling to, put in the hard yards in four-day or five-day cricket remain IPL specialists. This isn't only true of those like Mayank Agarwal or Bisla but of others like Tirumalasetti Suman, and for that matter, Munaf Patel.

As the IPL gets a greater share of national sporting attention, and as sponsors eye the various price points available to them to claim association, I hope young players don't look at it as the only cricket in their lives. They could do that if, like European football leagues, the IPL ran for six months. But it doesn't and so I hope they use it to draw attention to their skills. If they play four-day cricket, I believe they will extend their T20 career. If the shortest form is all they play, it could lead to a short career.

-Harsha Bhogle for ESPN

What's with India's don't-win-but-don't-lose attitude?

The country's cricket, at all levels, is suffering because of players' reluctance to challenge themselves.

As I watched the last day of the Irani Cup unfold, completely inconsequential, and devoid of a challenge, I wondered what it is about our cricket system that encourages so many teams to play safe, to believe that getting the first-innings lead is all that matters. It bothered me - and I hope it bothers a lot of people - that a higher sporting goal, that of winning the game outright, seems to be so low down the priority of most teams.

Among the many responses I got on Twitter when I posed the question why, one came from Anand Halve, among India's foremost marketing analysts. "Do you think 'It's ok if you don't win but don't lose' is a reflection of a national mindset that goes beyond cricket?" he asked, and being the analytical sort, promptly followed it with another: "The Minimax vs Maximin criterion as a motto for living?"

The definition of Minimax in game theory, simplified, is (courtesy Wikipedia): "… each player minimises the maximum payoff possible for the other - since the game is zero-sum, he also minimises his own maximum loss (i.e. maximises his minimum payoff)."

At the start of day five of the Irani Cup, Rest of India were 413 ahead with 90 overs left in the match. Remember, it was a last-day pitch, and except on day one, a run rate of four an over hadn't been reached. You would have thought 4.5 runs per over would have been not only a safe enough challenge but also one that would have given their bowlers the best opportunity to take ten wickets. Instead, they batted on and set Mumbai 517 from a maximum of 67 overs.

When I asked Harbhajan Singh, the Rest of India captain, if he had contemplated a declaration overnight, he suggested that on a track like that, they didn't want to offer the opposition a chance. He was minimising the maximum payoff possible for the opposition (to win the game by chasing 413 on the last day) but also maximising his minimum payoff (to win on first-innings lead). In this case, aiming for his maximum payoff, winning outright, would have been excellent for cricket, would have given his bowlers something to play for on the last day, and would have thrown the gauntlet down for the Mumbai batsmen, who would have had no choice but to go for the target, since otherwise they had lost the game on first-innings lead.

And so we had another day of low-pressure, low-challenge cricket, which, as it turns out, is ingrained in India's domestic structure. The idea of challenging yourself to discover how good you can be is unfortunately considered outdated, unfashionable or just stupid. Which is such a pity.

To go back to Halve's question: is this a national trait, to effectively do just enough to get a favourable but sub-optimal result? And is this reluctance to take pressure reflected in a fragility that is manifest when pressure is inevitable? It is for the social scientists to examine whether this is a national trait, but on the evidence of a little bit of research, I have to conclude that it is an overwhelming feature of Indian cricket.

Let's start at the top and the now infamous Test in Dominica in 2011. India, leading the series 1-0, had to make 180 from 47 overs to win. Their worst-case scenario, a defeat, was remote. By the time they moved to a target of 86 from 15 overs, with seven wickets in hand, it had disappeared. India could either draw or win. They chose to draw rather than challenge themselves to win. The result was favourable (a series win) but sub-optimal (1-0 instead of 2-0). It suggested India didn't want to be pushed.

One level lower, we saw the mindset in the Irani Cup. Even more unfortunate was Mumbai's approach in their Ranji Trophy match against Gujarat. Needing 135 from a minimum of 41 overs to seal an outright win, Mumbai opted to dawdle to 65 for 1 from 27 overs, with opener Kaustubh Pawar scoring 15 not out from 88 balls. If you love bright, attacking cricket, you would have been particularly pained by the statement by the Mumbai coach: "It wasn't really going to matter eventually - whether we went for the target or not. The fact is, we have achieved the objective of qualifying." Mumbai allowed themselves to play dull, purposeless cricket instead of challenging themselves for a superior cause.

Go lower and at Under-16 level you have a similar attitude. It is inevitable, for youngsters to be looking at what senior cricketers do. Sample this from Mumbai v Jharkhand in the Vijay Merchant Trophy quarter-final. Mumbai made 360 and bowled Jharkhand out for 46. Facing a seemingly inevitable innings defeat, Jharkhand found themselves fielding again while Mumbai made 440 for 9, a lead of 754. They then left Jharkhand around 33 overs of batting. The moment Mumbai's lead went beyond 450 or 500, there was no competitive interest left in the match, and the only purpose was generating numbers - statistics that would look good on paper, batting averages. What you didn't get was a contest that would make those numbers relevant.

Worse still by batting on, you are looking at generating batting numbers rather than allowing bowlers to win the match in the fourth innings. By the time the bowlers are given their shot, there was no competitive element left in the game. How do you produce attacking bowlers who can win you a game in a 50-50 situation on the last day if they don't get the practice to do so? By minimising the maximum payoff possible for the opposition, teams, and therefore Indian cricket, lose out much more in the long run.

From time to time, the technical committee of the BCCI has tried to make winning outright more attractive than winning by merely achieving a first-innings lead, but committees cannot change mindsets that have been ingrained over generations. Till the mindset changes to one that rewards winning, India will have to live with batsman-dominated-but-largely-uncompetitive cricket.

Minimax might be a good concept in some business situations, even in some sports, but it is harming Indian cricket.

By Harsha Bhogle for ESPN.

The problem with women's cricket in India.

It's not played by schoolgirls, so where will the talent feed for U-19 and state cricket come from?

Walk into any school in India and you will see a group of boys playing cricket, organised or not, in the playground. Have you ever seen girls playing instead? My guess is no. Here lies the starting point for any story about Indian women's cricket.

Women's cricket has travelled a long distance in the country - from its beginning under the Women's Cricket Association of India (WCAI), when players had to pay to play tournaments, to now, when Indian girls have travel and accommodation expenses paid for, receive a match fee and a daily allowance. The game is run by the BCCI these days and that has led to many benefits, but there are still areas in which the WCAI, women cricketers will tell you, did a better job.

"Girls played many more domestic and international games, but now things have changed drastically," says one disgruntled player. "The Indian women hardly play any international matches, and the number of domestic tournaments has reduced considerably."

For women's cricket to develop and grow, the BCCI and state associations must increase participation at the grassroots level. I played state cricket for Hyderabad and I can tell you that for women's cricket, the grassroots is tough terrain.

Most boys begin playing cricket, unofficially or officially, when they are ten or 11 years old. They have the opportunity to play for their school (sometimes the school even has "inter-class" matches) or district, and soon enough get the chance to represent the state. At the school level, girls in India have practically no opportunity to play cricket.

Women's cricket in the country is simply divided into two categories, Under-19 and seniors (state/Ranji Trophy level). There are no school or club matches that help selectors pick at the U-19 level, so a player only gets to play matches if she is considered "good enough" to be selected in the state team. Most girls who graduate from U-19 make it to the senior team, but those who don't usually give up the game.

This lack of opportunity is the biggest concern for women's cricket. "If girls aren't given the chance to play more matches, our standards will never rise," says Sunitha Anand, a wicketkeeper from Hyderabad, who was part of the Indian team that won the Twenty20 Asia Cup held in China last year. "You only find out how much you have developed as a player when you play in a match. Nets can take you only so far; matches are what really count."

She says schools must be encouraged to have girls' cricket teams as well. "When more girls play, competition will increase, and as a result, standards will rise. It is only when you are competing for something that you continue to get better. When you know there is no one pushing for your place, you tend to stagnate."

For young girls who want to start playing cricket, finding a proper coach or an academy becomes the next hurdle. I know of many girls who had trouble in this regard; this when every neighbourhood in India seems to have a "cricket academy". The truth is that many academies don't accommodate girls, and therefore there are very few places where girls can be coached.

	A nine-year-old who wanted to play walked into the Arshad Ayub Academy. The coaches looked at her uncertainly, saying she was too young and probably would not settle in well with the boys. She insisted, "I'm better than the boys. I'll show you. I want to play"

In 2007, three girls I know who had already represented one southern state were turned away by a coach who said he had "no time to train girls". A nine-year-old who desperately wanted to begin playing cricket walked into the Arshad Ayub Academy. The coaches looked at her uncertainly, saying she was too young and would probably not settle in well with the boys. She insisted, "I'm better than the boys. I'll show you. I want to play." Rachna Kumar, now a member of the Hyderabad Senior team, thus became one of very few girls to gain admission to such centres.

If only more coaches were willing to allow the girls to play with the boys. There would be such an improvement in the women's game, and I honestly believe more girls would begin to play.

"I have a lot of friends who want to play cricket just for fun," says Kumar. "They don't want to take it up seriously, so joining the women's academy in Gymkhana [Hyderabad] would be pointless, but then again, there is nowhere else they can go. It would really help if there were other places where girls could learn to play recreational cricket, even if they aren't serious about it."

For those girls who do end up playing for their state teams, life is not much easier. The practice facilities provided are reasonably good, but when it comes to playing practice matches, the available grounds tend to be very far away, because the centrally located grounds tend to give priority to the boys' teams. Sometimes parents have to take the day off to make sure their daughter has a safe ride to the venue.

Many of these grounds, located almost on the outskirts of the city, don't have proper toilets - if they have them at all. Some have bathrooms without doors, some without running water, others with broken commodes. There have been times when, in order to use a bathroom, players have had to walk over to a nearby shopping mall or theatre. "Girls know nothing of 'comfort breaks' - the grounds we play on train us not to take them," says Anand.

Women's cricket in India is still not a fully professional sport - meaning one can neither make a living from it nor find financial support. Match fees and the daily allowance (for a five-match tour) together probably cover the cost of a good bat. Quality gear comes at a price - approximately Rs 10,500, excluding the bat, which costs around Rs 10,000 for a good one.

Most of the boys who play for the state at junior level have sponsors who hand out free equipment. If you grow in stature and play at the Ranji Trophy level, these commercial contracts sometimes provide an income as well. Girls, on the other hand, even the ones who play for the country (let alone the state players), find it difficult to get sponsorship for their gear.

Women's cricket in India needs to grow, and for that it's important that more girls are given a chance to play in school. When a team does well and wins, interest is generated. That's exactly what has happened with women's badminton in India, thanks largely to Olympic bronze medalist Saina Nehwal. That is what happened with men's cricket after 1983.

Hosting a World Cup is great for the exposure it gives women's cricket, but more needs to change - encouraging girls to play at schools, opening up academies to girls, and ensuring that the real change for the women's game takes place, not with a World Cup every few years, but at the grassroots.