Three Forfeits, One Committee: Arunachal Pradesh's Ranji Future Rests with the BCCI

Arunachal Pradesh's Ranji campaign began away from the field. The opening fixture against Nagaland had already been shifted to Ahmedabad — a venue neither state could call its own home. There was no toss, no first ball, only a single entry in the scorecard: forfeit. In the same season, the boys' Under-19 side did not appear in the Vinoo Mankad Trophy, and the women's side did not appear in the Under-19 Women's T20 Trophy. Three squads, three formats, three cancellations. I have watched cricket for years, but these three empty boxes are not a scoreline — they are a ledger, where every zero leaves behind a question. Who is accountable? And does the answer the BCCI is now offering cure the underlying problem, or merely cover the symptom? The context needs stating clearly. The Ranji Trophy is India's premier domestic first-class competition — the main current of red-ball development. Much of the pathway to the national side runs through it. Over recent years the BCCI granted North-Eastern states a place in this competition; units such as Arunachal Pradesh, Nagaland and Meghalaya are the product of that expansion. The intent was honest — to draw talent from every corner of the country. But the gap between having a unit on paper and fielding a team on grass is now the Arunachal story. What matters most here is this — Arunachal did not lose a match. Arunachal could not take the field at all. The dispute between two factions of the Arunachal Cricket Association is now before the Itanagar Bench of the Guwahati High Court. In other words, the matter is legal as much as cricketing. No single team is playing badly; no team is being formed. Three separate squads are stuck in this administrative knot — senior men, Under-19 boys and Under-19 women. This is where the BCCI steps in. The board has constituted an independent committee to conduct trials — for the men's and women's teams, at both senior and age-group level. The committee comprises former first-class players from Assam. It is worth remembering that Assam is the most established cricketing state in the North-East; importing expertise from there means the BCCI is using external, proven capability to fill a local vacuum. The rulebook was never the game; it was the evidence locker. That must be kept in mind to read this episode. The BCCI's move is not a match-management decision but an administrative one — a central board bypassing the dysfunctional selection machinery of one of its member units and installing its own process. Such central intervention is not new in Indian cricket administration; when state associations collapse, the board tends to appoint administrators or build independent structures. The difference here is that, rather than appointing a direct administrator, the board is creating a selection process. The BCCI's messaging stresses that players must not suffer. This framing is clever, because it appeals to a neutral principle standing outside the dispute. But a ledger does not lie. If three squads forfeit in a single season, one must conclude the association cannot constitute a selection committee or file team entries — a complete operational freeze, not the problem of a single squad. The head of the committee has stated that there will be no outside interference and that players' interests come first. That assurance is not accidental. Because the committee is composed of Assam-based members, it could locally be read as 'outside interference' itself. So the BCCI is pre-empting that accusation early. This is not mere diplomacy; it is administrative preparation. I write this with the eye of someone who has watched matches for years and logged every decision in a ledger. My experience says that this kind of central intervention treats the symptom, not the disease. Unless the legal dispute hanging before the Guwahati High Court is resolved, forfeits could return next season. A silent whistle is still a whistle. The question is only who can hear it. Here, the BCCI's trial mechanism is like that silent whistle — it can be heard, but it does not stop the underlying foul. The committee will select, teams will be formed, and perhaps there will be no further forfeit this season. But the internal power struggle within the association remains. There is a longer-term risk here that is rarely discussed. Bringing in former Assamese players as selectors helps immediately, but it may weaken the path towards building Arunachal's own coaching and selection infrastructure. If dependence on an external committee forms season after season, local capacity will never become self-sufficient. That dependence slows the growth of a cricketing region for years. And this is where the question usually left off-stage arrives — who is actually harmed? The harmed party is the teenage cricketer who cannot play a single competitive match this season. Losing a season in first-class cricket is not just a zero in the statistics; it is the loss of accumulated experience, mental resilience and the chance to catch a selector's eye. Across three squads, that loss is tripled. I remember that in 2026, when cricket returned to empty stadiums, I gathered data from 288 matches and reached a conclusion — crowds, noise and pressure change a referee's decisions. The same logic applies here: administrative pressure changes decisions too. Just as a referee blows the whistle differently without a crowd's roar, so an association would function normally without legal pressure. There is an uncomfortable angle here. It is easy to present this whole episode as the story of 'the BCCI saving the players'. But the BCCI is not intervening selflessly. In the Ranji points structure, a forfeit damages the record of the opposing side, such as Nagaland. When a match is cancelled, the balance of the table is disturbed too. So one part of the BCCI's interest is protecting the integrity of the competition — alongside player welfare. But the biggest truth is that the committee is a temporary fix. It does not settle the factional dispute; it merely bypasses it. If the High Court rules in favour of one side, the BCCI's current arrangement may need to be reshaped — it may even need to re-recognise the association. Then the key question becomes whether the selections made by this committee remain valid. In the days ahead, my eye will be on two things. First, the ruling of the Itanagar Bench of the Guwahati High Court — the decisive variable. Second, whether Arunachal's squads actually take the field in their next fixtures. If they do, this season's problem is, for now, resolved; if they do not, the administrative crisis deepens. And if that happens, the question will arise — will the BCCI impose direct rule over the association? Cricket's rulebook was never the game; it was the evidence locker. And the door of that locker is still open.