Introducing the 17th player in Indian cricket history a misfit in the dressing room and the son of a powerful father.
Here, he declares he will never support Andhra again and accuses politics of interfering with cricket-related matters. This is how it works: “In the first game against Bengal, I captained the team. I yelled at the seventeenth player in that game, and he took offense and told his father, a politician. In response, his father requested that the association take action against me.
According to the narrative, Vihari was forced to resign as captain when the YSR Congress corporator, the father of the 17th player, supposedly got his way. In addition to igniting a political feud and a cricket inquest in Andhra, the aforementioned episode draws attention to the shadowy corner of the dressing room occupied by the non-playing, non-drink-carrying extras—the enigmatic 17th players on the Indian domestic circuit.
Drafting the extra players is not usually a backup plan devised by an excessively cautious administration in a sport that requires 11 players on the field and roughly 15 in a team. Giving the team unwelcome, uninvited assistance is typically the cunning work of a compromised administrator.
The analysis of the 17th player to win the Ranji Trophy provides insight into the flaws in the selection procedure and clarifies the challenges associated with managing state cricket teams. These “special extras” are typically the sons of powerful and indulgent fathers. They know deep down that they don’t deserve to be in the company of people who have earned their first-class caps, so they are a little remorseful when they are. They are viewed with distrust as the impartial outsiders on the team.
The son of Laloo and current candidate for chief minister of Bihar, Tejashwi Yadav, is arguably the most talked-about 17th player in Indian cricket history. The former cricket player has a history of kind of hanging out in the Team India and Indian Premier League dugouts. At that time, his father served as both the BCCI member and the Railway Minister.
See also: Ranji Trophy: State association orders “thorough inquiry” after Hanuma Vihari vows he will “never play for Andhra again” and claims political meddling.
Tejashwi was one of five young cricket players who traveled with the Indian senior side to Malaysia for the 2008 U-19 World Cup. The five were on a foreign exposure trip, according to the official explanation. The Indian board had never before launched such an initiative, which was later withdrawn.
Later, he spent nearly five years warming up the bench with the Delhi Daredevils of the Indian Premier League without ever playing a game. Delhi’s belief in their 17th player did not waver, even though it was time to transfer players like Gautam Gambhir, Daniel Vettori, Tillakaratne Dilshan, and AB de Villiers.
In the cricket arena, Pakistan is known for having intruders of this kind. Their name, Parchis, translates directly to “chits of paper.” The recommendation slip that the selectors bring to the conference and push for inclusion—which contains the name of an undeserving cricket player—is the subject of the reference. This custom is also present in India.
An old hand in Delhi and Uttar Pradesh cricket provides insight into the people who have the ability to pull strings in the background. A politician trying to get someone from their ward, a mafia don who believes his relative is the next Tendulkar, a bureaucrat who has unwarranted faith in his son’s bowling abilities, a former player using his old connections to gain an advantage, or a businessman willing to finance his child’s athletic ambition are the typical callers. He continues, describing how agreements become stuck and the terms of a quid pro quo are established. “There are times when it is impossible to ignore these calls.”
Nevertheless, the astute state unit managers have managed to appease the influencers over time without weakening the playing XI. The captains and coaches were made aware that they could select the top 12 or 13 players without having to consider the other players who did not have quota positions.
This led to peculiar circumstances. Like the day, long ago, when a policeman appeared out of nowhere in the Uttar Pradesh dressing room. “At first, everyone assumed he was a member of the security team or something, but in reality, he was a Bhaari Shifarishi (strongly advised) player. A former player remembers that “he even played a game.”
Even in the Indian Premier League, where franchise teams with corporate structures were supposed to operate on the meritocracy principle, this pattern has been observed. However, team owners were also unable to shut down the phones of politicians and babus due to their own conflicting business interests.
They also discovered a midway. Upon closely examining the traveling party, one notices a small group of players that are used as net bowlers but never play and have official kit bags and team jerseys.
Certain 17th graders have high aspirations. A few make more calls to get into the playing eleven after joining the big squad. According to a previous domestic team captain, there is always a frantic race among the “special extras” to make the squad for matches against inferior teams. “These extra players push to be included, especially if the game is against a North-East team,” he says.
Bihar changed eight players for a match versus Arunachal Pradesh a few seasons ago. Selectors expressed dissatisfaction over “regular requests to accommodate relatives of bureaucrats, politicians, and businessmen” in the year 62 players represented the state.
A 17th-year-old guy was informed the night before the game that he would be in the playing XI due to a wave of injuries on the team in an odd incident from the previous season. He unexpectedly declined, claiming he wasn’t mentally prepared.
He was aware that there would be bounces and a seaming pitch for the game. And thus the hesitation. Then, while he was playing regularly on the home circuit, “the politicians who had pushed for his inclusion called up and begged him not to play because it would jeopardize his career.”
For those with powerful fathers and godfathers at their disposal, life appears to be simple. Without effort or skill, they can select their games and develop into elite cricket players. All is not perfect, though. They are able to participate in an exuberant changing room but not experience their friends’ burst of adrenaline.
They can’t be one of the boys, but they can wear the team jersey. The famous jungle law of Kipling, “The strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack,” is also lost on them. When participating in a team sport, there is nothing worse than loneliness.