The Embarrassment That Is India’s Cricket Stadiums

Poorly managed, and barely maintained venues cast a shadow over the world’s richest, and fastest growing cricket ecosystem.

Fireworks at the Narendra Modi Stadium (named after the sitting Prime Minister), prior to the IPL final this year

Ravin Batra

Wimbledon, the Premiere League, the NBA, and the Super Bowl- these are some of the most popular and lucrative sporting events for spectators and other stakeholders worldwide. Over recent years, the Indian Premiere League has evolved into one of those incredibly valuable propositions. In 2021, the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) sold the tournament’s broadcast rights for a whopping 46,000 crores ($460 Billion, across TV and digital). This broadcast deal is second to only the NFL, and despite the competition being held across only 10 weeks of the year.

Eager to catch a piece of the action, I recently visited the Wankhede Stadium in Mumbai to watch the historied Mumbai Indians take on the Sunrisers Hyderabad in their last league game of the 2023 season. The Wankhede itself has played host to many a historic moment. India’s World Cup winning final in 2011, Sachin Tendulkar’s final game as a professional and Mumbai Indians’ miraculous chase of 193 in 14.3 overs to scrape a playoffs spot in 2014, are a few notable mentions. The venue, specially refurbished for that World Cup final in 2011, has also played host to numerous IPL playoff games and the IPL final in 2018. Given all of this, one would expect a best-in-class experience. My adventure, however, was anything but that.

My view from the third tier of the Sachin Tendulkar stand at the Wankhede Stadium, Mumbai

India as a nation is in a midst of a rapid migration towards a cashless economy, spurred on by the second to none payments infrastructure that is UPI. Securing tickets to a cricket game in Mumbai, however, requires fans to physically queue up outside a box office near the adjacent Brabourne Stadium, dealing with the sweltering heat and humidity. This is despite booking online. Once tickets are picked up, spectators are expected to make their way towards the allocated gate, standing in queues that spill over onto the main Marine Drive Sea face. This is the same process I followed on that afternoon in May. Once navigating the narrow-cordoned off queue that runs adjacent to an empty recreation ground, I reach the gates of the Wankhede. Here each spectator must go through an airport style security check, surrendering any water bottles, coins, and food items (organisers are vary of fans throwing these items on to the field of play). After this I scan the QR code on my physical ticket to go through a turnstile and make my way towards my seat. This is surely a process that could have been followed even with an e-ticket.

Once in the stadium premises, I make my way up 3 flights of stairs to the third tier of the Sachin Tendulkar stand. The paint on the walls of the outer perimeter of the stadium is chipping and the floor is visibly dirty and smelly. My bucket seat has stains of bird excretion. I did get a free flag for my troubles though. Soon enough the game begins, however, the electronic scoreboards are not displayed until the end of the powerplay. My friends and I were forced to squint our eyes to read the manual scoreboard across the other end of the ground or hope our spotty mobile data would let us confirm the score online. The stadium does offer free Wi-Fi, which would be great if one could actually connect to it.

As the first innings progressed, several street vendors started to walk across our row, in the middle of overs, trying to sell fast food and soft drinks. The stadium announcer would initiate chants as the bowler was at the top of his run up, and uneventful balls too would be met with a 10 second song cut. Over the innings break a child had been separated from his father. The lack of mobile network meant he only reconnected with him 3 overs and several anxious moments later. My friends and I refrained from grabbing a bite to eat, seeing the preparation of the food, or lack of it. My sister decided against using the rest room for obvious hygiene concerns. On the pitch, Mumbai made a 201-run chase look easy, thanks to a classy ton from rising Australian all-rounder Cam Green. In the stands, however, spectators were subject to a constant state of chaos, one that can be likened to a crowded food market, not a premier sporting event.

Cut to the 7th of June, and I find myself at another cricket stadium. This time I was at the Kia Oval in London to watch India take on Australia in the final of the World Test Championship. I purchased my ticket online and used a mobile QR code to enter the stadium. Unlike at the Wankhede, I was allowed to enter the ground with a bag- which I used to carry some homemade sandwiches, a jacket, and a bottle of water. Once inside, I could roam the entire outer perimeter of the ground which was lined with several food and drink stalls. All food and drinks (including alcoholic ones) purchased here could be taken to the seat, rather than having vendors roaming about the ground whilst play was in session. There was also a temporary net set up for fans to try their hand at batting against a bowling machine. My seat was a padded bucket seat with un-obstructed view of the pitch (Indian stadiums have fences separating spectators from the field of play). The stadium, although extremely crowded, was cleaned to a respectable level throughout the course of the 5 days. The announcer would only speak at the fall of a wicket or to announce a change in bowler, and music was only played in between sessions. Although the result of the game wasn’t to my liking, the experience was definitely much more efficient, game-focused, and well organised.

My view from the terrace at the Kia Oval, London

Both the stadiums I visited over the summer were packed to capacity and featured some of the game’s biggest superstars. Yet, the spectator experience was like comparing apples and oranges. The sad part is that this isn’t just a one off. Whilst full crowds add to the charm of Indian cricket and make for some of the best stadium atmospheres around the world, outside of the game, fans are treated like utter garbage.

For the IPL playoffs at the newly constructed 100,000+ seater stadium in Ahmedabad, spectators were once again forced to gather outside the stadium and persevere through 40-degree heat to collect their tickets. The box office, clearly not equipped to deal with such crowds, was overwhelmed. The police were forced to step in to avoid stampedes, and unfortunately did so by Lathi-charging (weaponizing a bamboo stick) the 100,00 faithfuls. The final was a rain affected affair, with the game being pushed to the reserve day. Those who managed to secure their tickets were forced to seek shelter outside the stadium, as water leaked through the inner structure of the ground. Fans were also expected to hang on to their soaked tickets for re-admission the next day. At the WTC final in comparison, tickets were sold online over 4 months in advance. Tickets for this summer’s Ashes series were out over a year in advance. Getting into the grounds in the UK are usually no more than a 15-minute affair. In India, however, the board’s refusal to cede power to private management or adopt modern technologies and management systems, forces fans to undertake a very cumbersome outing. With no change expected in the process for the World Cup in India later this year, the country’s stadiums are unfortunately simply not able to provide an experience worthy of such a global event.

As alluded to, the primary reason for such a disparity between stadium experiences home and aboard is the management of these grounds. Stadiums in India are owned by state associations which often find themselves under-funded and under-staffed. Event operations are often conducted on an ad-hoc basis and directed by officials with no sports or event management qualifications. The BCCI, the world’s richest cricketing body, has only recently allocated funds to address stadium redevelopment prior to the World Cup. Grounds like the MCG, Oval and Lords on the other hand are either owned or sponsored by private companies that dedicate an entire team to the maintenance of the stadium and the running of events. These stadiums host capacity crowds throughout the year, including for events outside of cricket. With Indian grounds not being leased out for concerts and shows, they are unable to fill their stands for more than 10 days a year. The lack of load-fill has a clear impact on its profitability, which in turn is a turnoff for sponsors and private owners.

The BCCI office at the Wankhede Stadium, Mumbai

The game of cricket is about to enter a major paradigm shift. Players will start to prioritise club/franchises over country, spectators will gravitate to the shorter and more engaging formats of the game and sponsors and administrators will have to follow suit. Indian cricket is currently sitting on a goldmine when it comes to its breadth of talent and a local competition in which players can showcase their abilities to the world. If the country’s administrators want to continue to profit off this, they need to allow others to get a slice of the pie and invest in partners that will provide the right infrastructure, management, and operational processes. Only then will the system be able to unlock the true potential that the market holds. Recent Saudi and Qatari interest in launching cricket leagues should be concerning for incumbent cricket boards, given how much cash the Middle Eastern nations can throw at new ventures. The BCCI might have created a beast in the form of the IPL, however, there is significant room for improvement when it comes to ensuring the competition can reach the peak of its powers. Perhaps the solution lies in formalizing the administration and opening events up to private stakeholders.