Smriti Mandhana is agitated about her new laptop. She’s trying to turn the zoom screen into a tile and failing repeatedly. Her media liaison officer and a colleague get involved. “It’s really easy on the iPad, but somehow I can’t do it here,” she says. “Do you think it’s because I’m using the website and not the app?” Nobody knows. And eventually, after several attempts, everyone gives up. She makes her peace with it quickly and gets on with it — something she has been trained to do from childhood.
At a time when most kids were being chastised by their parents to study hard, go to school and then hit the tuition circuits, Mandhana was expected to do far more. Growing up in Sangli, Maharashtra, she was identified early on as having too much talent to be left alone. She made her peace with it quickly and got on with it. Her first coach was Shrinivas, her father, who would soon put her in the hands of Anant Tambwekar, a junior state coach. At nine, she was picked to play for the Maharashtra U15 state side. Two years later, she was fast-tracked into the Maharashtra U19. At 17, she was captaining her state. And at 22, she would win the Arjuna Award.
Mandhana is among the few Indian sportswomen whose name drips off the mainstream tongue with ease. Her exploits at the frontline of India’s batting line-up, being named ICC Women’s Cricketer of the Year in 2018, the bucketloads of runs at all levels across formats and the huge fan following (8 million and counting on Instagram) make her one of Indian sport’s most keenly watched stars. It all culminated with her becoming the most expensive player at the inaugural Women’s Premier League (WPL) auction earlier this year, fetching a whopping Rs 3.4 crore.
The attention doubled. So perhaps did the pressure.
“I don’t think that has anything to do with the price tag though,” Mandhana, 27, says. “Obviously, we knew that the tussle for high bids would be among 2-3 players from the Indian team, and when it happened, it was quite exciting for a brief moment, but I didn’t attach much significance to it, honestly.”
There’s a pause and in that pause, I contemplate the unnecessary attention we pay to the correlation between money and competence. Sport, after all, is not predictable science; it’s irrational and in its irrationality, is its allure. Besides, the money franchises spend isn’t just for the player, but for the brand value that comes as part of the deal.
As it was, on the field, Mandhana had an underwhelming WPL campaign, scoring 149 runs in eight games as her team, the Royal Challengers Bangalore, finished fifth on the table. Her tribulations in the league were documented just as hard as her triumphs had been.
“I learnt a lot,” she says, “about dealing with the attention, the pressure… If you’d asked me about this during the league, you’d have a different answer. But after three months of reflection, I’d say it’s the best thing to have happened to me, to help me understand myself.”
There’s no pity in her tone, just generous self-reflection. Mandhana has since moved on (training, remember?), and has notched up runs for the National team in the recent series against Bangladesh, before shifting focus towards another franchise league, The Hundred, in the UK where she plays for the Southern Brave. It’s a completely different kind of cricket — so different that it is not officially recognised. Hundred balls, whoever wins. The best part: every franchise is required to have a women’s team, and the men’s and women’s competitions run alongside each other.
She is sitting and chatting at lunchtime from Southampton, England. In Delhi, if you’re being healthy (as I am, with savoury oats), it’s dinner. A huge part of the challenge for athletes travelling the world is being sequestered in hotel rooms and trying to get tasty and nutritious meals. Mandhana, a vegetarian, is not fussy about her food, but is always open to trying new nutrition practices to see what works for her and what doesn’t. “I go through phases, and right now I’m trying to be gluten-free,” she says.
“In the UK, there’re a lot of gluten-free, vegan options. And I can always dig into dal-rice with glee.”
Mandhana’s presence in England comes at a time when conversations about investment and engagement in women’s sport are happening louder than ever before. A day after we speak, the English women’s football team beat hosts Australia in the semi-finals of the Women’s World Cup.
“All the girls in my team are talking about it, and there’s a lot of buzz,” she says. “I think the way people have rallied behind women’s sport is amazing. I read that the Australian government had set up screenings across the country for
the Matildas’ games, which shows you what even some amounts of investment can do.” (The Matildas is the official nickname of the Australian women’s national soccer team.)
Change is in the air, and Mandhana is among the players driving it. Australia’s fandom for the Women’s World Cup has broken many records. Back in 2020, too, when the Australian team played India in the final of the Women’s T20 World Cup at the Melbourne Cricket Ground, some 86,000 spectators had turned up. Even the inaugural WPL was attended and watched with gusto, the stands filled with fans.
“The demand is definitely there,” Mandhana gushes. “I mean, during the WPL, I had to stop replying to messages because there were so many people asking for tickets. That was a first.” She says for those two weeks, everyone in India seemed to be just talking about women’s cricket, “which was amazing”.
This has become the case for women’s sport globally — a call from athletes to fans, and subsequently from fans to management to take them more seriously. It is Capitalism 101 — demand creating investment for more supply. Mandhana endorses this, while acknowledging that perhaps when it comes to women’s sport in the country, the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) is ahead of others.
She’s back to form on the pitch too, and has helped the Southern Brave romp to the title in The Hundred. After missing out on the title for two years in a row, it was a breakthrough for the franchise and for herself. She will give the Australian league, the Big Bash, a miss this year, focusing instead on taking some time off to recover and be ready for national duty. The next assignment will be at the Asian Games, where, in a first, the BCCI is sending both its teams, men’s and women’s, to the event.
“Going to multi-sport events is a completely different experience,” she says, the excitement dripping from her voice.
“We obviously have experienced it more than the men, having been to the Commonwealth Games. You get to see so many
world-class sportspersons; you can step out of your cricket bubble.” She’s excited to do that again, in China, where she will be part of the Indian contingent for the Hangzhou Asian Games, which begin on September 23.
“It’ll be really cool.”