The Challenge of Cricket – A Personal Reflection
- Prateek Khanna

- Aug 11
- 4 min read

I count myself incredibly fortunate to have had the opportunity to work with one of the world’s greatest cricket coaches of all time (Gary Kirsten, The Coach led India to world cup victory in 2011)
Over the last eight years of my association with him and his team, I’ve learned lessons not just about cricket, but about life, discipline, leadership, and the deeper meaning of sport.

There is now even a Cricket Lovers’ WhatsApp Group of DMETians where conversations flow as freely as memories, debates, and shared anecdotes. This blog series is my way of passing on those stories — small treasures I’ve picked up while working alongside legends. Some come from my own experiences, and others are inspired by the books, literature, and ideas that Gary and Russel have made me explore over the years.
Why am I doing this? Probably because of love — not just for the game itself, but for what it stands for. Cricket has a way of drawing you in, challenging your mind, and teaching you patience in a world that moves too fast. It might not be for everyone, but for those who truly see its soul, it’s a lifelong companion.
A Game That Defies Time
In 1893, Rev. Holmes famously wrote:
“We know as much of the history of cricket as we shall ever know now, and we have been told everything relating to the science of the game. There is no fresh ground to be explored.”
If Holmes could see the cricketing world today, he would be astounded. The last century has transformed the game beyond recognition.
Advances in sports science, data analytics, and medicine (AI, AI & AI as well) have brought a new dimension to preparation and performance.
Players today are fitter, stronger, and better prepared than ever before — yet the romance and complexity of cricket remain untouched.
The Long Shadow of Cricket
Cricket casts a shadow longer than any boundary rope. Those who play it, coach it, administer it, or simply watch and love it know that it’s far more than a pastime. It’s complex, rich, intriguing, demanding, and, at times, infuriating.
A Times leader in 1993 stated:
“Cricket presents tactical complexities undreamt of on the football pitch; it is chess compared to tiddly-winks.”
This sentiment isn’t new. In 1905, A.C. MacLaren proclaimed:
“Cricket develops the mind; there is more thinking to be done over cricket than over any other game.”
The cricket writer and political analyst C.L.R. James, in his 1963 classic Beyond a Boundary, gave us the immortal question:
“What do they know of cricket who only cricket know?”
This question has echoed in my own mind over the years — especially as I’ve seen how cricket reflects life itself: the patience, the strategy, the endurance, the triumphs, and the heartbreaks.
Nostalgia, Empire, and the Birth of an International Game
The romance of cricket — leather on willow, cucumber sandwiches, and tea — comes from the late Victorian and Edwardian eras. It was the age of the Grace brothers, umpires with mutton-chop moustaches, Gentlemen and Players, John Wisden’s Almanack, and the last bloom of the British Empire.
Crucially, it was the colonies that carried cricket into the twentieth century and beyond.
People in far-flung corners of the Empire adopted and adapted the English game, turning it from the preserve of minor public schoolboys into a truly international sport. That is perhaps cricket’s greatest triumph — its survival and growth across continents and cultures.
The Eccentric Game that Conquered the World
Today, cricket is a multi-billion-dollar enterprise watched and played around the globe. Only football commands a larger global television audience. What’s even more fascinating is the rise of women’s cricket — the fastest-growing segment of the game’s audience and player base.
And yet, cricket defies easy understanding. It has so many facets, so many variables, that it takes time to truly grasp its depth. It is a blend of team sport and personal duel — batter versus bowler — where matches can end in a draw even after heroic performances. At its highest level, the game stretches over days, demanding not just skill but concentration, focus, commitment, stamina, and doggedness.
The Battle With Time
Perhaps my favourite description comes from Cook and Scott (1991):
“Football is about the group domination of space; cricket is about an individual’s encounter with time. In cricket, exceptionally diverse levels of competition are imposed upon the individual. He plays directly against a single other batsman or bowler, against the pitch and conditions, against himself, against the needs of the game in terms of attack and defence, and against ten other participants in addition to his immediate adversary. He does this both for himself and in relation to the mood and intent of his team.”
This is why cricket holds me. It’s not just a sport. It’s a test of the mind, the body, and the soul.
Over the years, watching Gary and Russel dissect a match, plan a session, or talk about mental conditioning has shown me that cricket is as much about life management as it is about match strategy. The patience to wait, the courage to act, the humility to learn — these lessons have shaped my own journey.
This is the first in a series where I’ll share not just the facts and history of cricket, but also the philosophy, the stories, and the moments that make it so much more than just a game. F
or those in our DMETians Cricket Lovers’ Group, and for anyone who has ever felt their heartbeat sync with the rhythm of leather on willow, I hope you’ll find something here that resonates.
Because, as I’ve learned — you never really stop learning from cricket.


