Neutral cricket commentary is pretence, bias is a given!

Raju Korti
Irfan Pathan has reportedly been left out of the IPL 2025 commentary panel following complaints from several Indian cricketers who believe his criticism of them is steeped in personal bias. As a veteran journalist who’s tracked sports commentary from the restraint of print to the unfiltered din of modern TV, this twist doesn’t shock me but it does demand dissection. Pathan’s exclusion forces me to confront a tension I have long observed: sports commentators are expected to thread a needle between objectivity and passion, yet the louder the game gets, the harder that balance becomes. Is Pathan a scapegoat in a biased system, or did he cross a line?

Let’s start with the hook. The reports, trickling out as of March 22, 2025, claim that during India’s recent Border-Gavaskar Trophy tour, Pathan’s critiques rubbed players raw. Some felt his jabs weren’t just professional but personal; one even blocked his number, a juvenile flex that speaks volumes about egos in cricket’s elite circles. The IPL, with its glitz and franchise fervour, amplifies these stakes. Pathan, a former all-rounder turned pundit, won’t be mic’d up for 2025, and the whispers point to player pushback as the trigger. But why him, when bias is practically a job hazard in this gig?

Pic courtesy Linkedin.

Sports commentary has never been a monolith. Back when I cut my teeth in print, the unwritten rule was “no rooting in the press box.” Neutrality was king. Or at least, we pretended it was. Radio demanded imagination; TV, once distinct, now blurs that line with garrulous chatter. National broadcasters like ESPN or Star Sports expect their voices -- think Sunil Gavaskar or Ravi Shastri -- to stay measured, enthusing over big plays without picking sides. Team announcers, though, get a pass: local radio jocks can cheer “their” squad, subtly or not, because fans expect it. The IPL, a hybrid of national spectacle and franchise loyalty, muddies this further. Commentators from Akash Chopra to Matthew Hayden often tilt toward favourites. Sometimes it’s patriotism, sometimes it’s preference. Gavaskar’s India-first lens, Manjrekar’s blunt edges, even Vaughan’s digs at rivals -- all carry bias, subtle or loud. So why crucify Pathan alone?

The answer might lie in degree. There’s no official rulebook for “good” commentary, but I would argue it hinges on knowledge, vivid expression, and nuance -- an arresting narrative that keeps us hooked. Pathan, with his player’s eye, has that in spades. His YouTube show “Seedhi Baat” thrives on straight-talking insight. Yet, if the complaints hold water, his IPL critiques veered from analysis into vendetta. I have seen this shift before: print scribes once lobbied for “their” players; now TV pundits do it on air, often cloaked as expertise. The sickening sycophancy for icons like Dhoni or Kohli -- where flaws vanish and praise feels scripted -- shows how bias can distort. Pathan’s alleged sin wasn’t cheering too hard; it was letting personal gripes taint his takes. That’s a bridge too far, even in a game where “we” might slip out.

But let’s flip the coin. Bias isn’t just a commentator’s vice. It is the fuel of fandom. Rooting for sports is an exercise in partiality; we tune in to cheer with comrades, not dissect in a vacuum. Listeners crave that echo -- Pathan’s edge might’ve resonated with some, even if it alienated players. The pretence of objectivity can be worse: I have tracked commentators who play neutral on TV, then spew opposites in columns or press chats. Double standards -- regional, national, personal -- shine through if you follow them across forums. Pathan’s no stranger to this; his post-exclusion pivot to YouTube suggests he’s leaning into candour over polish. Maybe that’s smarter than feigning balance in a biased world.

Still, there’s a craft to this. High-octane games test even seasoned voices. Pathan’s not new to the mic, so toning down rhetoric should be in his wheelhouse. TV clashes today often pit pundits against each other’s vested interests, not just viewpoints. It’s less debate, more turf war. I have cringed at the noise -- less imaginative than radio’s golden age, more performative than insightful. Subjectivity’s fine if owned; Pathan could have framed his takes as opinion, not gospel. Instead, if he settled scores, he handed players a cudgel to swing.

Objectivity’s a staple in journalism, but sports commentary bends that rule. Unlike hard news, it’s less reporting, more engagement -- viewers want to be enamoured, not just informed. Ex-players like Pathan bring baggage: passion, rivalries, scars. That’s their strength, until it’s their flaw. I would argue there’s a line. Professionalism demands it. Enthusiasm for a play? Sure. Passive-aggressive snipes or unchecked bias? No. Pathan’s case tests where that line sits. If he blurred it too much, his IPL exit feels like consequence, not conspiracy.

So, IPL 2025 will roll on without him. Was he unfairly targeted? Perhaps! Cricket’s ecosystem thrives on bias, from fans to players to the dug-out. But if his critiques were personal, not principled, he gave detractors ammo. Subjectivity is inevitable; balance isn’t. As I mull this, I wonder who’ll replace him. And whether they will fare any better in this loud, partisan game. For now, Pathan’s out, and the mic’s up for grabs.