Blockchain Enters Cricket's Middle Overs: Fan Tokens, NFTs, and Bangladesh's Wait

The 2026 ODI World Cup was being played at the Narendra Modi Stadium in Ahmedabad. During a break, a digital board beside the scoreboard showed an advertisement — Internet Computer Protocol, ICC's official Web3 partner. Most viewers' eyes skipped past it, but I stopped on that sign. Blockchain companies have now taken a formal seat in cricket's vast market of television partnerships, sponsorships and broadcasting rights. This is not just a one-year partnership story; it is a new layer entering cricket's commercial structure. As fast as the ball travels on the field, the flow of money off the field moves faster. And blockchain is now joining the veins of that flow. For those who have never touched a fan token, let me explain — blockchain is essentially a ledger that no one keeps alone; everyone keeps it together. Cricket now sees its application at three levels. The first level is digital collectibles — NFTs. The second is fan tokens, where a supporter buys a token and earns some experience or voting rights connected to the club. The third is smart contracts, where player agreements, salaries or ticket records are written automatically. None of these directly changes the bat-and-ball story, but they are changing match organisation, revenue sharing and the fan bond. The ICC took its first major step in 2026, signing with FanCraze. Under that deal, a platform called Crictos began selling official ICC tournament NFTs. Catches, centuries, legendary deliveries — everything became small video clips and cards, with ownership recorded on blockchain. Then in 2026, a platform called Rario raised $120 million, led by Dream Sports' investment arm Dream Capital. No cricket-based tech startup had received such a large investment before. In 2026, the ICC partnered with Internet Computer Protocol for the ODI World Cup and built a Web3 fan platform. In other words, a technology dismissed as overhyped a decade ago now sits in cricket's most expensive advertising space. The question is no longer whether it will come; the question is how. The shape of the first layer is the most seductive. The promise of a fan token is this: buy a token, and you can vote on your favourite club's new jersey design or on access to a special training day. In football, PSG, Barcelona and Juventus moved down this path long ago; in cricket, the ICC and some franchise leagues are experimenting. A token's price generally fluctuates on exchanges, but it must be remembered — it is not a company share. A token gives you no ownership; it gives you an experience or a form of digital fan status. That is where the danger hides. If a fan treats the token as an investment, a price crash creates resentment. The second layer — NFTs — is more controversial. On Crictos or Rario, a video clip's value depends on scarcity. A clip of the final over of a World Cup final, an iconic shot, a legend's first international wicket — these are sold as unique digital objects. There was frenzy for a while. But in 2026, the global NFT market collapsed; many bought collectibles are now virtually worthless. Some call this a failure of technology, others call it market maturity. Either way, cricket boards have begun calculating new revenue streams cautiously. Because the real game of NFTs is artificial scarcity built on emotion — and surviving sponsors understand the market of emotion fastest. The third layer is the least discussed, but perhaps the most important — smart contracts. Suppose a Bangladesh Premier League franchise wants to pay an overseas cricketer in installments, releasing the next payment automatically once he plays a match according to the condition. Or suppose every taka from ticket sales must reach the club's books — if transactions are written on blockchain, nobody can later erase the accounts. Transparency in smaller leagues or domestic cricket could find a huge opportunity here. Yet despite all this potential, cricket's global authorities have pushed branding and fan engagement forward instead of on-field operations. Why? A smart contract means distribution of power; and boards have never been attracted to distributing power. The truth is, cricket fans no longer just sit in the stadium to watch. Television, OTT, social media, fantasy leagues — multiple screens are fighting for the fan's time. In that reality, blockchain fan platforms create an alternative screen, where a supporter connects not just by watching with their eyes but by buying. During Covid, we saw matches in empty stadiums in 2026; digital fan engagement was the only bridge then. That bridge's design proved something — alongside the viewer's eyes, the viewer's wallet can also be made interactive. Here, India's example matters. The Indian cricket board — BCCI — has stayed away from formal NFT partnerships because of legal uncertainty around virtual assets. Yet IPL franchises have no shortage of marketing power. So global blockchain companies first entered through the ICC flag — because the ICC is a multinational body, not blocked by decisions of five or seven boards. This strategy reveals a new picture of power balance among cricket boards: the more centralised a board, the slower its decision; the more continental an organisation, the faster its adaptation. Now, the Bangladesh context. Bangladesh Bank has long declared virtual currency and crypto-related transactions unauthorised; since 2026, that position has been restated repeatedly. As a result, if a Bangladeshi club or board tried to issue foreign fan tokens, it would clash with the banking system. Media once carried whispers of Shakib Al Hasan's NFT initiative; those whispers did not turn into any major platform. There is nothing to regret here. Rather, it shows that Bangladesh's sports authorities are not lagging from ignorance; they are waiting because of the regulator's firm stance. That waiting is not a loss — when the market shakes itself out, the cost of learning will be lower. In my view, the most honest use of blockchain may be for domestic cricketers. In Bangladeshi domestic cricket, contract irregularities, delayed salaries and vanished player money are old complaints. One simple use of a smart contract: how many matches a cricketer played, whether his bowling quota was fulfilled — based on such data, his salary share automatically moves to his account. This reduces dependence on a club's accountant. Yet despite such an obvious solution, boards are not interested. Because where transparency arrives, the power of middlemen faces a question. Let me do a little arithmetic. Suppose a national cricket board launches its own fan token. From selling the token, several million dollars come in. The tournament ends — the token's price falls. Will the board return the money? Did the token guarantee any service or dividend? If the answer is no, then it is not sports investment; it is a speculation lottery. Cricket's regulators need rules on where token sale money goes, when it will be burned, and what liability exists if fans become angry. Without such rules, any board can take future revenue now — and that is blockchain's most dangerous temptation. The angle I keep returning to is challenging blockchain's promise of trust. The idea is that blockchain reduces middlemen and makes everything transparent. But look at the actual structure and the opposite picture appears. FanCraze, Rario, ICC's platform — at every level, there is a company taking commission on each transaction in its own marketplace. That means middlemen did not disappear; new middlemen simply took control. Moreover, cryptocurrency's anonymous transactions can give new packaging to one of cricket's old diseases — black money, match-fixing, brokering. If the very technology meant to force boards to account suddenly runs behind unchangeable encrypted records, the regulator's weakness only grows. That is why the ICC must not think of this only as new revenue; it must treat it as a new chapter in safeguarding tournament integrity. For Bangladesh, the real danger is once again technological dependency. We are dependent on equipment, coaches and foreign leagues. If we forever rely on foreign platforms in cricket's digital economy, our fans' data, a part of the board's revenue, and even future players' contract documents will remain at the mercy of those platforms. So calling Bangladesh Bank's tough position 'anti-technology' is not fair. That position is actually a steel edge — measure the foundation first, then build the house. In 2026-25, blockchain's story has become colder. The crypto market has fallen, NFT volume has shrunk, but the technology has not been cornered; rather, corporate partners have lowered their big talk and begun small uses. The ICC-ICP partnership, FanCraze's survival, Rario's new models — together, a maturity is arriving. The companies that only pumped the market have left; those that want to build long-term infrastructure remain. Now cricket boards are moving beyond hype and measuring responsibility towards three sides — players, fans and sponsors. The BCB's time is not for decisions; it is for observation. A small pilot project can be started — for example, bringing the ticket transactions of a domestic tournament into blockchain to test transparency. But not as an expansion of cryptocurrency; as record-keeping technology. At the next ICC event, boards' attitudes toward fan tokens will become clearer. In the end, the question returns to the field story — who will be accountable for every taka of a ticket, rather than a century floating on an NFT card. When blockchain truly arrives in cricket, it will be identified not by the name it uses, but by the transparency it brings.