So, they finally did it. They threw a giant pile of cash on the table. USD 13.8 million. That’s the headline number for the 2025 Women's ODI World Cup prize money, and the PR machine is working overtime to make sure you know it’s more than the men got in their last go-around.
Give me a break.
Are we really supposed to stand up and applaud because a multi-billion dollar organization decided to stop short-changing one half of its talent pool quite so egregiously? It’s a great talking point, a fantastic slide in an ICC marketing deck, but let’s not pretend it’s some grand act of benevolence. It’s a business decision. A calculated investment in the next big growth market, and they’re expecting a hell of a return.
And that return, they tell us, is already pouring in. The narrative is that the fans have arrived. Harmanpreet Kaur, India’s new captain, talks about how they used to play in front of empty plastic seats and now the stadiums are packed. I’ve seen the pictures from the Women’s Premier League (WPL). Almost 50,000 people at the DY Patil ground for a match. It looks great on TV. It looks like a revolution.
But is it? Is this a genuine, grassroots explosion of interest in the 50-over game, or is it the sugar high from the T20 carnival trickling down? The WPL and The Hundred are slick, hyper-marketed products designed for the modern attention span. They’re a three-hour hit. ODI cricket is a whole-day affair. It’s a different beast entirely. I’m not saying the fans aren’t real, but I’m asking if they’re here for the long haul or just for the party. There's a difference.
The Show Must Go On, Even if the City is Mourning
Welcome to Guwahati, Don't Mind the Silence
The party, offcourse, is scheduled to kick off in Guwahati. India vs. Sri Lanka. A big stage for a city that’s never hosted a World Cup match before. The perfect story, right? The game expanding, reaching new frontiers.
Except reality, as it so often does, has failed to read the marketing brief.
The city is in a state of mourning. Zubeen Garg, a beloved local singer, just passed away. The Durga Puja festivities, a massive cultural event, are scaled down. The mood is sombre. And into this quiet grief rolls the giant, noisy, self-important circus of an ICC event, expecting everyone to paint their faces and scream on cue. It’s a disconnect so profound it’s almost poetic. A perfect metaphor for the entire enterprise: a glossy, manufactured spectacle parachuted into a world that has its own, more pressing concerns.
I mean, can you imagine? You’re trying to run this flawless global event, and the host city is… sad. You can’t put that in a press release.
Replacing a Legend? More Like a Public Execution.
The Kids Are Not Alright
And what about the players? The actual humans at the center of this pressure cooker. We’ve got a whole new generation of captains being shoved into the spotlight. Harmanpreet Kaur takes over from the legendary Mithali Raj. Alyssa Healy is trying to fill the void left by Meg Lanning, one of the most dominant captains in cricket history. Nat Sciver-Brunt for England, same deal. These aren't just new captains; they're successors to icons.
This is a terrible idea. No, 'terrible' doesn't cover it—this is a recipe for a public breakdown. They’re being handed the keys just as the car is being redesigned. The game itself is mutating. Kaur mentions teams are now regularly posting 300-plus scores. The rules have changed to favor batters, with one fewer fielder allowed in the outfield. It’s all about more runs, more boundaries, more action.
Everything has to be a highlight reel now, doesn't it? It's not just cricket, it's everything. Movies, music, news. All chopped up into bite-sized, shareable clips. God forbid we have to sit through a quiet spell or a strategic passage of play. That doesn't sell streaming subscriptions. It ain't good for business.
So these new leaders are expected to not only win, but to win in a specific, telegenic way, all while managing the crushing weight of their predecessors' legacies. Good luck with that.
The One Unscripted Twist Worth Watching
At Least The Chaos is Real
Then you get a quote like the one from Sri Lanka’s captain, Chamari Athapaththu, saying she hopes an Asian team wins because of how important cricket is to the region. It’s the kind of nice, diplomatic thing you’re supposed to say. My cynical translation? "For the love of God, please let someone break the Australia-England stranglehold so this tournament feels even remotely competitive."
And you know what? She might just get her wish.
Because for all the manufactured hype, the one thing that feels genuinely real right now is the unpredictability. The guard is changing. Sri Lanka, who didn't even qualify for the last World Cup, recently beat India for only the third time ever in an ODI. India turned around and ended Australia’s insane 13-match winning streak. These aren't just minor tremors; they're signs the ground is shifting. The old certainties are dissolving.
For years, you could have penciled in the semi-finalists before the tournament even started. Now? I have no idea. And I have to admit, that’s compelling. It’s messy and unpredictable. It’s everything the marketing department hates and the actual sports fan lives for.
Then again, maybe I'm the one who's got it all wrong. Maybe the prize money is a genuine step forward, the crowds are here to stay, and the new captains will forge their own legacies. Maybe this beautiful, chaotic mess is exactly what the sport needs to finally, truly break through, and I'm just too jaded to see it. It’s possible.
But the whole thing feels fragile. Like it’s built on a foundation of marketing spend and hope, and a few bad games or empty stadiums could bring the whole thing crashing down. They're selling us a finished product, a global phenomenon. But it feels more like a high-stakes startup, burning through venture capital and praying for mass adoption before the money runs out. And honestly…
So, Are We Having Fun Yet?
At the end of the day, they’ve built a bigger, louder, more expensive stage. They’ve told everyone it’s the greatest show on Earth. Now all these women have to do is put on a performance so spectacular that nobody bothers to look at the cracks in the floorboards. The pressure isn't just to win the icc women's world cup; it's to validate the entire billion-dollar gamble. No pressure at all.
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