From Press Box to Screen: The Same Old Triangle of Sexism Against Women Cricket Journalists

Twenty-four years ago, there were two women in the Wankhede press box. The rest were men. England beat India by five runs, Andrew Flintoff ran across the outfield twirling his shirt, and a few months later Sourav Ganguly answered from the Lord's balcony. I was not at Wankhede that day — I was on the night desk in Delhi, busy cutting page fourteen. Back then I was certain that cricket's real story was written on the pitch. At 61, I can say I was only half right. The real story was in the corner of that press box, where two women had to win a match just to claim their place. That same triangle has now grown larger and more ruthless on screen. This is the first-person account of that same journalist, who covered the 2026 World Cup, the 2026-08 Australia series known as Monkeygate, the 2026 T20 World Cup and the 2026 World Cup. She interviewed Sachin Tendulkar, Shane Warne and Brian Lara. She was cricket editor at NDTV 24x7. Print, television and digital — this journey across three mediums brought her to 'The Scoop' today. But in 2026, her article on IPL cheerleaders raised questions of male gaze, sexualisation and sexism. The piece went viral, and along with it began what has not stopped since. When she returned with The Scoop, she found cricket coverage now runs on Instagram and TikTok. Clips are cut from longer shows, impressions are counted, and a viewer who watches only a 90-second video never gets the full context. This change is not merely technological — it is economic, and within this economic framework, attacks on women journalists have intensified. The real question here is not what happened to the author. The real question is how the current structure of cricket media has amplified this hardship. I have seen over four decades that when content value is determined by impressions, controversy becomes the cheapest and most effective raw material. The author herself noted that clips from her show are extracted separately, and controversial statements reach audiences stripped of their original context. This is not a mistake — it is the logic of the algorithm. The more provocative the content, the more impressions it earns. And impressions mean advertising revenue. In this economy, a woman journalist's expertise matters less; her image and her controversy matter more. The most serious episode came when Sunil Gavaskar objected to Indian-owned Hundred franchises purchasing Pakistani players. Sunrisers Leeds had selected Pakistani spinner Abrar Ahmed. Gavaskar argued that such purchases could indirectly contribute to the deaths of Indian soldiers and civilians. The author challenged this argument. What followed was predictable: political accusations, attacks on her identity, questions about her professional legitimacy, and a direct death threat. Let me be clear — this was not a difference of opinion. Differences of opinion are settled by debate. Here, the target was the author's loyalty, her character and her very existence. Someone who has interviewed Tendulkar and Warne, who has covered four World Cups — her professional credibility is questioned simply because she expressed an opinion on a politically sensitive issue? This pattern is visible across the cricket world. In my geometry notebook, I have drawn this same triangle repeatedly: the field, the press box and the screen. On the field, players compete. In the press box, there is the struggle to write the story. And now on screen there is a third battle — where the woman writing the story becomes the target herself. This triangle has never closed. The angles keep shifting, but every time the woman stands in the same position. The abuse directed at the author included accusations about her sexuality, questions about professional competence, racist remarks and political accusations. This was not scattered anger. It was sustained, organised abuse, often amplified by the very platform journalists use for their work. The cheerleader issue is equally deep. In 2026, the author asked why the IPL employs predominantly fair-skinned cheerleaders. She called it a fetishisation of white skin and a symbol of patriarchal thinking. For context — attributed to the author, not independently verified — 8 of 32 NFL teams have eliminated cheerleaders. Did Indian cricket debate this? No. Instead, the author faced accusations of jealousy and feminism. That is the pattern — when a woman raises a structural issue, her motives are questioned instead of her arguments being answered. Now to the most uncomfortable part. Social media was seen as a tool of democratisation — a platform connecting journalists directly with audiences. The real picture is inverted. Social media did not connect journalists to audiences; it handed them over to algorithms, and algorithms profit from anger. The second point I want to make — many will claim social media increased sexism. That is half true. Sexism was already there, in the press box, in the newsroom, in editorial meetings. The author herself noted that in her early days she was one of two women in the press contingent, and she was compared to her male predecessor. In other words, the problem is not new. What is new is its publicness and its continuity. Earlier exclusion was private; today's attack is public and relentless. And the third point, the most uncomfortable: in the engagement economy, controversy is the raw material. A journalist who expresses controversial opinions is rewarded by platforms in the form of impressions — and then those same impressions extract a price in the form of abuse. This debt is collected not by the pitch, but by the screen. If I were to keep a single line from this article, it would be this: for the cricket industry, the safety of women journalists is no longer a social issue but a structural responsibility. Publishers need threat-escalation protocols, platforms must take moderation responsibility, and institutions must decide whether diversity is only for press releases or for genuine safety. In the coming months, the thing to watch is which institution takes what step after the Gavaskar controversy and the threats. In forty years, I have also learned that cricket's biggest scoreboard is not the one you see — the stories that never get written also count. Fold the quarter first, then read the season between the creases. The next match is one of institutional responsibility. Instead of watching replays, if we return to the corner of that press box and redraw the triangle, perhaps the puzzle will appear clearer — and perhaps then we will also hear the story of those two women who, 24 years ago at Wankhede, had already won a match just to claim their place.