Being a Woman in Cricket Journalism: How Social Media Turned Longstanding Sexism into Relentless Harassment

The Other Voice Behind the Noise of Cricket

A cricket broadcast ends. The studio lights go out, the cameras are switched off and the players return to their dressing rooms. For a female journalist, however, the working day may continue. Messages arrive on her phone. Someone questions her reporting, someone comments on her appearance, someone connects her professional competence to her gender. And someone else considers a threat of violence an acceptable response to disagreement.

This is no longer simply one woman's private experience in cricket. It reflects an industry in which women have spent decades earning their place, while digital media has increased both their visibility and their vulnerability.

I have witnessed periods in cricket journalism when a woman's presence in the press box itself became a subject of discussion. In 2026, while covering a World Cup-related contest between India and England at Mumbai's Wankhede Stadium, I began to understand that being present in journalism and being accepted are two different things. In a press box dominated by men, establishing a professional place could be as difficult as analysing the match. Editorial decisions, colleagues' attitudes and access to opportunities defined the boundaries. Today, social media has given those boundaries a digital form.

Discrimination once appeared inside the room; now it follows women onto almost every digital screen. That transformation is the central issue.

From the Press Box to Social Media: The Platform Changed, the Prejudice Remained

Indian cricket journalism has expanded from print newspapers to television and then to digital platforms. Women's roles have changed throughout this journey. In earlier decades, they faced limited representation, isolation among male colleagues and the expectation that they must repeatedly prove their competence. A woman's reporting could be evaluated against that of her male predecessor, as though professional ability had no independent standard.

I have interviewed great players such as Sachin Tendulkar, Shane Warne and Brian Lara. I have covered major events including the 2026 World Cup, the 2026–08 India-Australia series, the 2026 T20 World Cup and the 2026 World Cup. These experiences taught me that cricket's story cannot be found entirely in a scorecard. Sometimes it is hidden in the question that nobody gets an opportunity to ask at a press conference.

In 2026, an article I wrote questioning the male gaze and the presentation of women in IPL broadcasting attracted considerable attention. Some responses were reasoned, but others were personal. I was portrayed as jealous, feminist and hostile towards men. The debate shifted away from the questions raised in the article and towards the identity of the woman who had written it.

Social media existed then, but its reach and speed were different. Platforms such as Instagram and TikTok have transformed the distribution of cricket journalism. One- or two-minute clips are cut from longer programmes and turned into reels. A single analytical sentence, a brief disagreement or a sharp reaction can be detached from its original context and distributed to millions of viewers.

In digital journalism, what matters is no longer only what you said; it is also which part of your statement is most likely to provoke a reaction.

This change creates a difficult relationship between editorial independence and commercial incentives. In a longer programme, viewers can hear the context, reasoning and qualifications behind a comment. In a short clip, the same comment may appear provocative or controversial. Audiences react, the content circulates and the platform receives engagement. The journalist whose voice appears in that clip, however, may be targeted after the original context has disappeared.

The Economics of Popularity and the Cost to Journalists

Cricket media's commercial structure is changing rapidly. Previously, newspaper reports and television programmes generally passed through relatively clear institutional editorial processes. In digital distribution, audience numbers, impressions, shares and viewing duration have become important indicators. A programme's success is increasingly assessed through its online reach as well as its analytical quality.

There is a positive side to this transformation. An independent journalist can reach millions without belonging to a major broadcaster. Female experts can build an identity outside traditional editorial structures. Conversations about cricket are no longer restricted to established commentators or large media organizations.

Yet the other side receives less attention. Direct access to audiences has made journalists more independent, but it can also leave them further removed from institutional protection. When a female journalist receives online abuse, a gap often appears between platform action, the media organization's responsibility and personal safety. The journalist is left alone in that gap.

My years of watching matches and reporting on cricket have taught me that the real significance of an incident is often different from its first reaction. One poor delivery cannot represent an entire innings. Similarly, one controversial remark by a female journalist should not become the basis for judging her entire professional career. Everyone has the right to criticize, but there must be a clear distinction between criticism and harassment.

The Sunil Gavaskar Controversy: When Does Disagreement Become an Attack on Identity?

Prominent former players continue to influence public discussion in Indian cricket long after their playing careers end. Their opinions receive extensive media coverage, and audiences often regard them as part of the sport's institutional memory. Their social and political comments can therefore become major controversies.

Sunil Gavaskar's comments about the selection of Pakistani spinner Abrar Ahmed by Sunrisers Leeds, an Indian-owned franchise in The Hundred, generated such a debate. According to the supplied analysis, Gavaskar presented an argument connecting the purchase of Pakistani players with the deaths of Indian soldiers and civilians. I publicly disagreed with that position.

The central question was larger than the selection of one player. Could a professional franchise competition evaluate a player separately from his nationality? Was it reasonable to turn a commercial recruitment decision into the basis for a political accusation? Relations between India and Pakistan are sensitive, and emotions in such debates can understandably run high.

However, the personal reaction that followed my disagreement changed the nature of the discussion. Instead of answering my argument, some responses attacked my identity, beliefs and private life. This is a serious problem in sports journalism. When a woman's sporting or political opinion is answered with comments about her character, the quality of public debate declines and professional independence is weakened.

The reputation of a celebrated former player does not place his opinions beyond criticism, just as a journalist's disagreement does not make her a legitimate target for abuse or threats.

The Glamour of the IPL and the Presentation of Women

The commercialization of cricket cannot be discussed solely through player auctions, broadcasting rights or franchise valuations. The role of women in on-field entertainment is also part of that economy. I have long questioned the presentation of cheerleaders in the IPL. In particular, the preference for fair skin and Western appearance deserves examination through the lenses of colorism and the male gaze.

This debate is not about questioning the professional ability or personal choices of individual performers. Cheerleaders are performers and artists. The question concerns a commercial structure that frequently presents women's presence as decorative attraction while overlooking their talent, training and professional identity.

The role of women in sports entertainment has also been debated internationally. The supplied material refers to eight of the NFL's 32 teams having eliminated cheerleading arrangements, although that figure requires independent verification. The significance of this example lies less in comparisons between sports than in the possibility that sporting institutions can review their traditions and the way they present gender.

The IPL's popularity and financial expansion have made it a powerful part of India's entertainment industry. Commercial success, however, is not automatically proof of social progress. In a competition where the participation of female players and spectators is growing, the dignity of female performers and journalists deserves equal attention.

What Cricket's Collective Memory Often Leaves Out

Cricket's collective memory preserves great scores, historic victories, controversial decisions and photographs of celebrated players. The working conditions of those who produce the journalism receive far less attention. I keep a notebook of moments the cameras often cut away from: the bench, the corridor, the empty chair and the silence in the press box.

I have been the only woman in a room of ninety men; it taught me to listen first. That experience also taught me that an institution's real culture is revealed by how it treats people with less power, rather than by the slogans it displays publicly.

The challenge for female journalists today is no longer simply gaining entry. They also need the right to remain in their profession, to criticize and to disagree publicly. If every sharp comment exposes a woman to sexual insults, racist abuse or threats of violence, her freedom remains a right on paper rather than a reality.

Social-media companies have an important responsibility here. Reporting a threat should be straightforward. Response times in serious cases should be clear. Effective action should be taken against accounts that repeatedly engage in harassment. Media organizations must also provide employees and freelance contributors with support, legal guidance and safety procedures. Saying that such things simply happen on the internet is insufficient.

Editors must also reconsider their content-distribution policies. When a short clip is published from a longer programme, the original context and necessary explanation should remain accessible. The institution benefits from the impressions generated by controversial material; it cannot leave the entire resulting risk with the journalist.

A Contest Continues Beyond the Boundary

Cricket has repeatedly offered society opportunities to reconsider its boundaries. The growing popularity of women's cricket, the achievements of female players and new broadcasting opportunities are signs of change. Yet measuring progress solely through audience numbers or commercial value is incomplete. Who is allowed to speak in sports journalism, whose voice is heard and who is protected are also measures of institutional quality.

After the match-fixing controversy of 2026, I learned that accountability cannot be hidden behind the brilliance of a sporting hero. The winter they handcuffed the heroes, the stadium kept its mouth shut. The lesson remains relevant: sporting institutions are not weakened by criticism. They are weakened when they suppress criticism and ignore problems.

The future of cricket journalism will depend on whether institutional responsibility grows alongside the reach of digital platforms. Will the next generation of female journalists be able to ask questions about the game without having to defend their identities? Will their expertise be recognized independently of their gender, skin color or political opinions?

Every next delivery on a cricket field carries the possibility of a different result. Journalism also has an opportunity to change. This time, however, the real test will not be the resilience of female journalists. It will be the accountability of the cricket industry, media organizations and digital platforms.