The IPL's become a parameter to judge a player for national selection © Indian Premier League

Is thriving in domestic cricket, scoring tons, and excelling in the longer format any good, after all? I am beginning to wonder, for let’s face it, the franchises, understandably, care a zilch about your scores in the Ranji Trophy. A player could have well put on view both the temperament and the technique essential to succeed in the coveted championship, but it is still not enough to bag a ticket to the IPL.

But, that’s not the league’s fault, you may say. It’s a Twenty20 championship that requires a particular skill set, which some domestic cricketers may or may not possess. And hasn’t the IPL anyway picked up many a domestic players and made stars out of them in a span of just three years? While I don’t dispute that, there’s still an issue lurking, almost lost, in the whiff of the aromatic IPL. It involves that crop of players who are not suited to play the slam-bang cricket, and who are beginning to wonder if playing and excelling in the IPL is bigger than representing their state in domestic cricket.

Till a few years ago, a domestic player played for peanuts, while the recognition for his skill was even lesser. All that mattered was to play for the country, while everything else was either inconsequential or simply stop-gap. But the IPL changed it all. Besides being ever so lucrative, and a sure-shot way to instant stardom, it actually, and quite bafflingly, became a parameter to judge a player for national selection.

What makes matters worse for these domestic players, who are stamped as ‘Test players’, and ignored by the league on this very pretext, is that they are now being looked right through even for a selection to the higher berths, in spite of prospering in the Ranji Trophy. These players are pigeonholed to play a certain brand of cricket and nobody is willing to give them a fair run to showcase their talent in the shortest format. Their agony is doubled when they see their peers, some of them not even good enough to play for their state, stealing a march over them and enjoying plum IPL deals. Quite a double whammy!

Pity, they are contemplating a change in their batting style, becoming a tad too flashy, brazen, restless, and ever so aggressive, even if it means going for cheap in the ‘lacklustre’ longer format. But, even as they do get swept off by the winds of change, they continue to feel as insecure as they did a few years ago. Nothing, not the IPL, not even the Ranji Trophy, has succeeded in making these rather brilliant players feel safe.

A place in the Ranji side is as unpredictable as the outcome of the next innings, for past laurels can only take a player so far. While the pay packets for Ranji players have gotten better, their chances of getting a promotion haven't. My question, though, is larger – Why has playing in the IPL become so important? So much so, that it is either as good as playing for the country or not playing cricket at all. Think over.

Wrong intent is the reason behind poor pitches on a lot of occasions in Indian domestic cricket © ESPNcricinfo Ltd

"When you play in the semi-finals of a premier tournament like the Ranji Trophy, you want it to be played on a much better surface, not one that makes it a lottery. The mud was flying from where the balls were pitching,” said Robin Uthappa at the end of first day of the Ranji semi-final. While one can understand Vadodara's preference to play on an under-prepared track (Karnataka was a much stronger opposition), it would be impossible to not feel for the Karnataka boys, whose dreams of making it to the second consecutive final were dashed in just over five sessions of play.

But, there’s a larger issue here. Karnataka lodged an official complaint which meant shifting the venue for the final in Baroda to the Moti Bagh Ground, and also, of course, preparing a slightly better pitch. I say a better pitch because it lasted five days, otherwise the track was so low and slow that it made for boring cricket. And that brings me to the perennial question that's haunting Indian cricket, especially domestic cricket. Is preparing a good pitch which has something in it for everybody so difficult?

Every season we witness at least a few matches finishing under two days. The tracks are either like the one provided for the semi-final, a rank turner, or have far too much grass left on them with moisture (if the hosts' strength lies in fast bowlers), like the match Delhi played against Orissa a couple of years ago. While both these tracks produce the much-needed result and with it the crucial five-six points, it has a damaging effect on the health of the game. These games not only inflate bowlers' figures to unimaginable enormities, but further boost their chances to stake a claim at the next level of selection. But mostly, they are not half as good as their figures suggest.

That reminds me of a match at the Karnail Singh Stadium a few years ago. There were stud marks on the good-length area on the eve of the match. The players were asked not to wear spikes while playing and, as expected, the match got over in five sessions with spinners ruling the roost. A debutant got a five-for and with that he cemented his place for the next few games and years. While everyone was aware of his abilities, the figures told a different story. The team lugged him around till he bowled straight into the keeper's gloves a few times in another first-class game and made a laughing stock of himself and the team. One under-prepared track not only made a mediocre cricketer last a few games but also blocked the way for talented youngsters from getting a look-in.

If underprepared tracks are misleading, the tracks, as good as roads, are equally flattering, as batsmen, in this case, make merry. What’s worse is that it's not the nature of the track but the intent which is at fault on most occasions. The tracks for the Ranji Trophy semi-finals and finals this year got noted for the bounce and seam movement for the bowlers. The track in Delhi might not be the best surface in the country, but, if prepared properly, can assist the seamers and last a good four days. The onus is on the match referees to start pulling up the hosts for not preparing a sporting wicket which should be followed by a stern action from the BCCI. The danger of getting banned or huge financial penalty will work as a deterrent for the curator to not give in to the unreasonable demands of the team management. The chalta hai approach has gone on for way too long and it's time to change the thinking. The rest shall follow.

Batsmen from the north need exposure to pitches in the south © ESPNcricinfo

The BCCI did well for Indian domestic cricket when they decided to scrap the redundant Ranji format of teams from a particular zone playing among themselves, before the top two could proceed to the knockouts. While the system had been in place for long, it wasn’t doing any good to improve either the standard of cricket or the quality of cricketers. In fact, since it’s almost a given, that a couple of teams in each Zone would be mediocre, the players from stronger teams often walked away with inflated figures, which of course wasn’t a true reflection of their actual skill. Some of these performances, at times, went a long way in getting a nod for Duleep Trophy. After all, it’s the number of runs and the wickets that count, however lopsided the contest may have been.

Even the quality of surfaces provided in certain Zones was not conducive to producing good cricketers. What does a batsman learn about playing the horizontal bat shots if the ball doesn’t bounce above the knee-height regardless of the length? Or how do you possibly learn to tackle pace when you play on surfaces where, perhaps you can lean back and enjoy a cup of coffee, before the ball actually reaches the bat? If not the quality of the opposition, such surfaces are bound to make you an ordinary cricketer. Also, by restricting the games only to the Zone, you end up becoming a one-dimensional cricketer. For the longest time, the players from the North were better equipped in tackling the swing, while the men from South could only master playing spin.

And hence, the format was changed to Elite and Plate in which good teams played against each other on home and away basis. Now, you could learn to play the moving ball in Delhi’s winter and also tackle the turner in Chennai in the same season.
If just a couple of changes in a format could reap exceptional results for domestic four-day matches, then why the delay in implementing them in the shorter formats? At the moment, domestic Twenty20s and fifty-over matches are being played within the Zone and the top two teams qualify for the knockouts. Obviously then, the lapses of the old format are still plaguing the development of these shorter games. The first round of domestic one-day matches gets over in 7-9 days, which is as gruelling as it can get. At times you play on two consecutive days, like we did here in Kanpur. Or you could be playing on alternate days, as it’s done in the North, but the rest day is consumed by travelling from Chandigarh to Patiala.

When the Elite-Plate format has worked well for us, why the fixation with matches between teams within the Zone? It seems that while we have successfully adopted one format, we are still afraid of letting go of the other one. If we want to continuously evolve as a cricketing nation, we must keep evolving at all levels. If shelving a few tournaments or formats is the way forward, then so be it.

The 2010-11 Duleep Trophy winners South Zone had not won the tournament since the 1995-96 season © Getty Images

Fresh from the Ranji games and straight in to the Duleep Trophy; one can’t help but marvel at the latter’s standard and the quality of cricket on display. Just a look at the net session of a zone team is enough to gauge the palpable difference from a state side. After all, the team which represents a particular zone is made up of the best and most in-form players of all the states falling in its purview.

Not too long ago, the Duleep Trophy was the fulcrum around which Indian domestic cricket revolved. While performing for the state, one always had an eye on a possible place in the Duleep Trophy team. You would keep a tab on how your competitors were faring and what exactly was needed to get a look in.

Back then, the Duleep Trophy was held on a league basis, which meant you played at least one game against each of the remaining four zones. This was then altered a bit by involving a foreign team to raise the level of competition, and having two groups of three teams. Even then, it meant at least two league games, with the top team from each group making it to the finals.

The format has now changed completely, with the exclusion of foreign teams and the tournament being held on a knock-out basis. The finalists from last season, along with a team picked randomly, get a bye to the semi-finals, while the remaining two teams play a quarter-final. While, in theory, a bye is a fitting reward for the defending champions and runners-up, it may not actually be the best situation for the players involved. By playing one less match, their batting and bowling statistics take a hit. One wants to have as many innings under the belt to pile on the runs or increase one’s tally of wickets. But in this case, if your team did well the previous season, you get fewer chances to play.

The knock-out matches, with the exception of the final, are four-day games, which in most cases means the match gets decided on the basis of the first-innings lead, unless the track is under-prepared which is very unlikely at this level. A four-day knock-out match doesn’t exactly challenge the teams enough and also mean that you might end up getting only one opportunity to showcase your skills, which may be insufficient and also dull to watch.

Just to make matters tougher for the players, there are only three days between the end of the Ranji final and the first Duleep Trophy game. The players who feature in the finals are, quite understandably, a tired lot and seldom find the enthusiasm to raise the bar so soon. Also, since the team has only one or two practice sessions together before the match, the chances of these talented individuals working as a team are not too high. Obviously then, the emphasis is on personal performances with very little regard to the demands of the team.

The Duleep Trophy is a great concept, but to ensure that its importance is not wasted on the players, the tournament needs an overhaul. More matches need to be played in order to give everyone a fair chance to make a mark, while a longer gap between the Ranji and Duleep Trophy games would ensure the zones play as teams.