Indian sports beyond the boundary

Nandan Kamath looks at sports like an onion and, through nuanced argument, peels its many layers to provide insight and understanding

Boundary Lab: Inside the Global Experiment Called Sport

Author: Nandan Kamath

Publisher: Penguin

Price: Rs 799

Pages: 428

Little has been written about Indian sport, and practically nothing about the governance challenges as sport is powered by commerce. Nandan Kamath’s Boundary Lab occupies this vacant space and provides clarity to a subject that is multi- layered and complex.
 

The book covers a broad canvas; sport is seen in its different dimensions, and Kamath lights up the subject with bold, bright strokes to demystify betting, doping, contracts, player rights, professional leagues, broadcast dynamics, sports governance and much more. Boundary Lab is a 50-over cricket game where each over is a different story, and Kamath carries his bat through the innings with skill and knowledge.
 

Setting the context, he marks the boundary and describes sport as a social contract that has public value. Viewed through this wide-angle lens, he says sport has moved from simple event management to a complex multi-stakeholder ecosystem.
 

Given his background and experience, Kamath is eminently qualified to discuss and dissect the various questions that modern sports throws up. If sports has 360-degree players, the author is a 360-degree sportsperson — fan, player, scholar and an astute lawyer sitting on the boundary edge, eyes focused on the ball. He also runs GoSports, a not-for-profit that supports the journey of Indian athletes.
 

The book is a collection of interesting questions that appear random, but there is an underlying thread that holds the narrative together. One part breaks down the Indian sports structure where Kamath examines the role of sports bodies who hide behind autonomy, using this as a shield to ensure personal benefit. About politicians in sports bodies, he says they are useful to an extent, but notes that attempts to bring public accountability into sports governance is stymied by those in power.
 

A large section of the book is about issues with which modern sport must grapple. For instance, does Virat Kohli play for India or the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI), which is a private body not formally recognised by the Government of India? Also, can MS Dhoni patent the helicopter shot? The answer is no, but Kamath says it’s irrelevant whether Dhoni earns royalty or not because he is royalty anyway.
 

Besides dealing with live issues of contemporary sport, Kamath assesses what the future may look like. He hopes for the time when fans are mainstreamed to occupy centre-stage and become stakeholders with rights. The system of independent directors to ensure public good already exists and we could see fans actively manage teams.
 

Citing the BCCI-Supreme Court matter, Kamath concludes that reform is difficult and the scrap left the judiciary badly bruised. The Supreme Court had stepped into the crease to protect public interest and the integrity of a national passion. But a private body forced it to walk back many material reforms, and after nine years (almost like a timeless Test), the score was zero. Kamath’s final telling comment: The Supreme Court is unlikely to engage again with the BCCI.
 

Equally interesting is the section on the Mohammad Azharuddin match-fixing saga. The BCCI found him guilty and quickly banned him for life, “like a lightning conductor”, because it was facing criticism and wanted to make a statement. But the court found the decision procedurally defective, which is why the original case has had no closure — justice not done, nor seen to be done. Azhar later became a member of the same BCCI that had banned him for life. But there is an interesting twist: he is the only person to end his career at 99 Tests. Which, in a twisted way, is poetic justice.
 

Should India host the Olympics? The idea does not excite Kamath because it is an established fact that the benefits of staging such events are exaggerated and costs underplayed. He puts a lid on the matter by saying the question is not whether India should hold the Olympics but instead, are they worth hosting. It’s more important, he rightly comments, that we push to move the needle towards universal participation in sports.
 

In order to fully grasp the essays, the book demands focused attention. This is serious stuff, not what you read while watching Netflix or the IPL. Its merit is to explain complex matters in simple terms, often with a light touch. Sports is good for everyone, it is said, even for the busy lawyer because if he is fit, he can sprint from one courtroom to the other and manage multiple hearings. 
 

For anyone who loves sports and is a fan, this is compulsory reading. For anyone wanting to understand commercial sport (with a special focus on India), this is something you can’t miss. Boundary Lab is excellent reference material, the go-to book to clear issues, much like the popular guide books that college students lean on to clear university exams.
 

Kamath looks at sports like an onion and, through nuanced argument, peels its many layers to provide insight and understanding. In his writing, his passion for sport and deep knowledge comes through, as do academic and intellectual rigour. Clearly, this is the work of an expert who considers himself a student. 

The reviewer has been manager, Indian cricket team, GM-BCCI, COO-Delhi Daredevils, Secretary, Sports Authority of India, and Advisor, Ministry of Sports