Cricket on Blockchain: The 23rd Player, or a New Exploitation of Fans?

Standing in a corner of the Barishal Stadium gallery, I watched a teenager buying a digital card on his phone. It bore his favourite cricketer's signature — an NFT, priced at 3,500 taka. His hands were trembling because the transaction wouldn't go through. The network was weak. I smiled — I am 64, I climbed down from the press box to the balcony, but this boy was playing on his phone screen in a world farther away than the press box. The new economy of cricket — blockchain — has entered this boy's life. The question is: who profits? Not just India or England — in Bangladesh too, blockchain cricket is being discussed. In 2026, the ICC announced it was launching its first official NFT collection. The England and Wales Cricket Board has experimented with fan tokens. IPL franchises have created their own digital assets. Socios.com, which has worked with Lazio, PSG and other football clubs, is now entering cricket. And in Bangladesh? Startups in Dhaka are trying to build cricket-based NFT marketplaces. In this article, I will not dive into the technical complexities of blockchain. I will speak from the balcony where I have watched the game for 48 years. My argument is simple: what blockchain has brought to cricket is not an improvement of the game — it has brought a new kind of brokering around the game. And the biggest victim of this brokering is that boy, his hands trembling as he tries to buy a 3,500-taka card. The core promise of blockchain technology is transparency. A digital ledger where every transaction is permanently recorded. No one can erase or alter it. In cricket, possible uses include ticket sales, player contracts, broadcast rights, even fan voting. Take an example: in 2026, IPL ticket black-marketing was a major problem. A fan had to pay 10 times the actual price. If tickets were issued on blockchain, each ticket's ownership could be tracked. Forgers would find it impossible to create fake tickets. That is a real solution. In my 48 years of cricket journalism, I have seen how ticket touts cheat ordinary fans. In 2026, people stood in line all night for World Cup tickets in Dhaka, only to see tickets vanish within minutes — all into touts' pockets. Blockchain could have solved this. But is it? Here I arrive at my central argument: the current blockchain cricket projects are creating new problems instead of solving old ones. Because these solutions are built from the perspective of clubs and platforms, not fans. First, look at fan tokens. Platforms like Socios or Chiliz tell fans — buy tokens, participate in club decisions. But who determines the token price? The platform's market. If the token price rises 10 times, the early buyer profits; but if the price crashes? The fan's investment is wiped out. This is not real partnership. It is gambling — where the casino always wins. Second, consider the NFT cards. A digital image of a cricketer sells for 3,500 taka. What does the fan get? A digital file whose copies are available anywhere on the internet. Real ownership? No. When you buy an NFT, you become the recorded 'owner' on the blockchain — but your rights to use, display or resell the card are limited. And if the platform itself shuts down? Your 3,500-taka asset evaporates into thin air. The funny thing is, the biggest beneficiaries of this business are not fans — they are platforms and clubs. Every transaction takes a 5 to 10 percent platform commission. On secondary sales, the commission is even higher. The more emotionally fans buy, the more the platform earns. Coming down from the press box to the balcony, I learned one thing: cricket's real wealth is the people in the stadium. Those who arrive at seven in the morning to secure a spot. Those who wait in the rain. Those who clap even when the team loses. Blockchain has given these people nothing; rather, it has taken from them. Recent research shows that low-income people's participation in cryptocurrency transactions is rising. Many see it as a way to 'get rich quick'. Cricket NFTs are baiting the same trap — especially young fans. That boy in Barishal, buying a 3,500-taka card, probably thought it was an investment. But he doesn't know that the NFT market has lost more than 90 percent of its value since 2026. If someone says blockchain is bringing transparency to cricket — like choosing a club jersey colour through fan token votes — is that real power? No, it is symbolic participation. In real decisions — coach appointments, budgets, player purchases — the fan's token has no role. The token is a toy vote; when real power comes up, the fan is sent back to the gallery. To be fair, I could be wrong. Blockchain could bring genuine change to cricket. Blockchain-based tickets could transform the industry. Player contracts recorded on blockchain would bring clarity during transfers. Opaque agent commissions would shrink. Many argue blockchain will globalise cricket. A Bangladeshi fan could directly buy a fan token of an English county club. True. But the question is — in whose interest will this 'globalisation' work? How much will fans pay for the platforms' marketing budgets? A young colleague of mine who works on blockchain once told me: memories don't prove anything; numbers do. She is right. Current data shows the global sports NFT market was worth over 2.3 billion dollars in 2026, but fell below half of that by 2026. That number itself is proof — it is a bubble. And when a bubble bursts, whoever bought from the bottom suffers most. I am not anti-blockchain. I am against blind adoption. If blockchain is to do anything for cricket, it must be on the side of the fan — not the club or the platform. First, fan token prices should be tied to the club's actual revenue. If the club profits, the fan profits. If the club suffers, the fan's asset suffers too. That is real partnership. Second, a significant share of NFT card revenue should go to the people behind the players — ground staff, physios, academy coaches — whose work no one recognises. Coming down from the press box to the balcony, I have seen that the 23rd man is what wins tournaments. If blockchain can create a sustainable fund for these 23rd men, that would be a meaningful use. Third, what blockchain offers in transparency, other technologies can offer too. An open database publishing ticket sales information can reduce black-marketing without blockchain. Blockchain is a tool, not a goal. I am 64. I may not live to see the full blockchain era. But I have seen cricket — how it has become a game of governing bodies, businessmen and media. Blockchain has joined that game like a new piece on the board. However attractive the piece's colour, it is still the same game. In the next five years, I make a prediction: the cricket bodies that turn blockchain into a tool for fan empowerment — real transparency, real partnership, real security — will survive. And those who use it merely as a new revenue stream will be forgotten like the ticket touts. That day in the Barishal gallery, the boy looked at me and smiled. His transaction had gone through. I asked him, 'Why did you buy the card?' He said, 'He is my favourite player.' I thought to myself — may this love never be betrayed. Press box eyes, balcony truth. Always.