I spent part of this week following Ranji Trophy scorecards, which is the cricket equivalent of admitting that one enjoys railway timetables. Yet the scorecards contained everything administrators claim modern audiences no longer possess the patience to appreciate: collapses, fourth-innings chases, long rescue acts, spinners changing a match over two sessions and lower orders discovering courage after specialists had misplaced theirs. The BCCI’s own second-round summary records a wonderfully unruly set of contests. Rinku Singh rescued Uttar Pradesh with an unbeaten hundred, Vidarbha survived a spectacular chase wobble in Srinagar, and Chinmay Sutar made an unbeaten quadruple century. If this had happened under IPL floodlights, we would have received documentaries, reaction reels and three sponsored awards before supper.
Instead, much of the Ranji Trophy exists as information rather than spectacle. Scores are available, clips appear unevenly, grounds look empty on camera and even committed supporters have to hunt for context. I refuse to accept the lazy conclusion that Indians do not care about first-class cricket. Audiences cannot care consistently about a competition they are barely invited to know. The board possesses money, production relationships, digital platforms and an unmatched promotional megaphone. What it lacks is the will to treat red-ball domestic cricket as a product worthy of narrative rather than a warehouse from which the national team occasionally collects spare parts.
A schedule is necessary, not sufficient
Credit where it is due: the domestic structure is vast. The official 2026–27 ready reckoner lays out a season stretching across age groups, formats and competitions, with the Ranji league split into phases. Organising this across India is serious work. Weather, travel, venue availability and an overcrowded international calendar create constraints that armchair romantics like me can underestimate. The BCCI has also restored zonal elements in other competitions and continues to fund a domestic ecosystem richer than anything previous generations knew.
But abundance can conceal neglect. A player may receive match fees and first-class opportunity while remaining effectively unknown outside selectors’ spreadsheets. That matters because attention is not frivolous. Attention creates local followings, sponsorship possibilities, accountability over pitches and a public record of a player’s development. When a young batter is called into an India squad, the conversation should not begin with a frantic search for two grainy clips. Supporters should have watched how he handled a seaming morning in Hubballi, an old ball in Rajkot and a turning track on day four.
Test cricket’s health begins below the Test team
Whenever India lose a Test series, discussion leaps to captaincy, selection or temperament. Those things matter, but they are downstream. Red-ball depth is built by players facing repeated, varied examinations in domestic cricket. It requires pitches that offer pace without ending matches in five sessions, turn without becoming lottery tickets and flatten enough occasionally to force bowlers to invent. It requires travel, recovery, coaching and selectors who distinguish a difficult 70 from a decorative 150. The Ranji Trophy is the laboratory where those judgments should develop.
The IPL has improved Indian cricket in obvious ways. It rewards athleticism, exposes players to pressure and gives uncapped talent financial independence. I enjoy it without apology. My objection begins when its commercial success becomes the template for every institutional choice. T20 skill cannot substitute for learning how to leave outside off stump for an hour after lunch, bowl a fourth spell with an old ball or construct a chase when the asking rate is irrelevant but the close fielders are not. Test cricket is not merely T20 performed slowly. It is a different examination of technique, memory and ego.
Broadcast the competition like it matters
The board need not televise every match with a dozen cameras. It should guarantee a reliable minimum production standard, centralised highlights, intelligible score interfaces and timely clips tagged by player and match situation. One high-quality featured game per group each round would create an appointment. A nightly programme could explain the table, choose the spell of the day and introduce one ground’s conditions. Commentary teams should include domestic coaches and recently retired players, not only familiar television voices parachuted in with five facts from a briefing sheet.
Scheduling can also become more spectator-conscious without sacrificing cricket. Publish venues early. Avoid preventable clashes with major home internationals. Offer free or nominally priced entry with clear online information rather than making a supporter negotiate a gatekeeper who seems surprised that a human being wishes to enter. Schools and local academies can be invited on designated days. State associations should be assessed partly on attendance, digital coverage and basic spectator facilities. A toilet and a shaded stand are not vulgar concessions to entertainment; they are signs that the public is welcome.
Do not turn every star appearance into theatre
There is a recurring demand that established India players be compelled to play domestic cricket whenever free. Broadly, I agree. No player should regard the Ranji Trophy as remedial detention assigned only after a bad international series. But mandatory appearances can become performative. A star arrives for one game, cameras multiply, local teammates are displaced and everyone congratulates the system. The deeper need is alignment: central contracts, workload plans and selection expectations should make first-class participation normal when fitness and international commitments permit.
The counterargument is workload, and it is legitimate. Fast bowlers cannot be driven from tour to domestic round to white-ball series merely to satisfy nostalgia. Medical teams need discretion, and rest should not be treated as moral failure. Yet “workload” must not become a universal solvent that dissolves all obligation. The board can publish broad availability principles without exposing private medical information. If a batter has weeks free before a Test assignment, facing a serious domestic attack is usually better preparation than an extended net camp surrounded by throwdown specialists.
Reward difficulty, not only volume
Selectors should explain domestic performance with more texture. Raw averages reward friendly conditions and weak opposition. Data can adjust for venue, match state and attack quality, but experienced observation remains essential. A hundred against a tired Plate attack is an achievement; a 65 on a spiteful Elite pitch may tell us more about Test potential. Bowlers likewise need assessment beyond wickets: control, spell length, speed retention, plans to set batters up and effectiveness with an older ball. Public analysis of this kind would make the competition more educational for supporters and more credible for players.
I would also like the BCCI to preserve regional identity. Franchise cricket teaches us to transfer affection every auction cycle. The Ranji Trophy offers something deeper: Maharashtra against Mumbai, Karnataka against Tamil Nadu, a newer team building belief, a smaller association upsetting an established power. These rivalries need storytelling rooted in language and place. Local-language streams and short features on club systems, groundsmen and former players could make domestic cricket feel owned rather than administered.
The board can afford ambition
No serious person expects Ranji audiences to rival the IPL. That is not the test. Public value is not measured only by maximum concurrent viewers. The BCCI is custodian of Indian cricket, not merely proprietor of its most profitable weeks. A well-presented first-class competition develops players, coaches, umpires, scorers and knowledgeable supporters. It gives Test cricket cultural roots when the international calendar becomes thinner and noisier. It also honours professionals whose careers are substantial even if they never receive an India cap.
I still love the scorecard’s quiet revelations. A nightwatchman survives 90 balls. A bowler sends down 35 overs. A side conceding a first-innings lead claws back three points. But affection should not require amateur detective work. The current tournament is generating characters and tension in abundance. The board’s job is to make that abundance legible.
Indian Test cricket will not be saved by sentimental speeches before a marquee series. It will be sustained by strong pitches, meaningful domestic contracts, thoughtful selection and a Ranji Trophy the public can actually see. The BCCI has built the calendar and funded the machine. Now it should open the doors, turn on the cameras and behave as though the cricket inside is worth our time. I assure them it is.
