Cricket—once a game of grace, grit, and glorious uncertainties—is now struggling to hold on to its soul. Once called the gentleman’s game, it was a sport where emotions ran deep, and players were revered not just for their skill, but for their integrity. Legends like Rahul Dravid, Sachin Tendulkar, and MS Dhoni were not only champions on the field, but flag bearers of humility and sportsmanship. But the tides have turned.
In the modern era, cricket is fast becoming a playground for brands rather than for dreams. Franchise leagues, ad deals, and media contracts dominate the conversation more than the spirit of the game itself. The roar of the crowd is being muffled by the sound of jingles. The bat does not speak anymore—it's the brand stickers that do. The sacred white of the jersey has been replaced by cluttered kits overloaded with sponsors, and the national flag is often overshadowed by a team’s commercial logo.
The true tragedy lies in how emotions of Indian cricket fans are being trampled upon. For millions in India, cricket is not just a sport—it’s faith. Every win is celebrated like a festival, every loss mourned like a personal tragedy. And yet, those who wear the blue jersey often walk away with padded paycheques while the fans are left with broken hearts—especially in crunch moments, like world cup finals and major knockouts. How many times have Indians cried in silence, staring blankly at the screen, watching dreams fall apart while the experts and brands move on within minutes?
There was a time when losing a match meant introspection and resolve. Now, it often ends in social media campaigns and brand management. The weight of the tricolor seems to be getting lighter in the hearts of a few, while the burden grows heavier for the fans.
Cricket is still loved, still followed, but not in the same innocent way. The child who once dreamed of becoming the next Tendulkar now dreams of being a trending influencer in a league team. The purity has been diluted. The morals of hard work, patience, discipline, and respect that greats once carried like a torch are being buried under the dust of glamour and money.
Yet, hope flickers. Somewhere in the dusty streets of India, a young boy still plays cricket with a broken bat and a burning passion. It is in these corners that the true spirit of cricket survives—unbought, unsold, and unbeaten.
Let’s not forget what made this game beautiful. It’s not the sixes or the headlines, but the silence before a delivery, the humble raising of a bat after a century, the pride in the national anthem, and the tear in the eye of a fan.
Cricket needs to return to its roots. Not for the sake of the game, but for the millions who still believe in its soul.
In the modern era, cricket is fast becoming a playground for brands rather than for dreams. Franchise leagues, ad deals, and media contracts dominate the conversation more than the spirit of the game itself. The roar of the crowd is being muffled by the sound of jingles. The bat does not speak anymore—it's the brand stickers that do. The sacred white of the jersey has been replaced by cluttered kits overloaded with sponsors, and the national flag is often overshadowed by a team’s commercial logo.
The true tragedy lies in how emotions of Indian cricket fans are being trampled upon. For millions in India, cricket is not just a sport—it’s faith. Every win is celebrated like a festival, every loss mourned like a personal tragedy. And yet, those who wear the blue jersey often walk away with padded paycheques while the fans are left with broken hearts—especially in crunch moments, like world cup finals and major knockouts. How many times have Indians cried in silence, staring blankly at the screen, watching dreams fall apart while the experts and brands move on within minutes?
There was a time when losing a match meant introspection and resolve. Now, it often ends in social media campaigns and brand management. The weight of the tricolor seems to be getting lighter in the hearts of a few, while the burden grows heavier for the fans.
Cricket is still loved, still followed, but not in the same innocent way. The child who once dreamed of becoming the next Tendulkar now dreams of being a trending influencer in a league team. The purity has been diluted. The morals of hard work, patience, discipline, and respect that greats once carried like a torch are being buried under the dust of glamour and money.
Yet, hope flickers. Somewhere in the dusty streets of India, a young boy still plays cricket with a broken bat and a burning passion. It is in these corners that the true spirit of cricket survives—unbought, unsold, and unbeaten.
Let’s not forget what made this game beautiful. It’s not the sixes or the headlines, but the silence before a delivery, the humble raising of a bat after a century, the pride in the national anthem, and the tear in the eye of a fan.
Cricket needs to return to its roots. Not for the sake of the game, but for the millions who still believe in its soul.