Umbrella Before Thunder: The Retention Drama of Kabaddi Champions League and Haryana's Invisible Economy

Saturday, 9 p.m. I open my old laptop in my room in Rangpur. On the screen appear five team names from Haryana—Bhiwani Bulls, Hisar Heroes, Karnal, Panipat, Gurugram Gurus. Not a match scoreboard but a retention list. Ahead of the second season of the Kabaddi Champions League, the announcement of retaining ten players. Before the October 17 auction, this list reveals which direction the league wants to go. But what struck me most was a number at the bottom of the list—Devank Dalal's price of 19.2 lakh rupees, the most expensive buy of last season's Kabaddi Champions League. Comparing this figure with the price of Pro Kabaddi League (PKL) star Pardeep Narwal makes clear which tier of kabaddi we are actually watching. The league's full name is "Kabaddi Champions League" (KCL). It has no connection to India's Pro Kabaddi League. Five franchises from five cities in Haryana—Bhiwani, Hisar, Karnal, Panipat, Gurugram. A second season means it is still an infant. Yet this infant league's retention process is a direct imitation of the PKL model. First retain the stars, then buy the rest at auction to build the squad. Devank of Bhiwani, Ashu Malik of Hisar—these two names raise a question: are these stars really of PKL level? Let me first recall the basic rules of kabaddi. A raider enters the opponent's half within 30 seconds, touches one or more defenders, and returns to his own half—that touch earns the point. If the opposing defenders collectively stop that raider, it's a tackle point. The raider must keep chanting "kabaddi kabaddi" continuously; if he stops, the raid is invalid. Bonus line, all out, do-or-die raid—these words are the lifeblood of on-court kabaddi. But in the administrative terminology of a domestic league, retention and auction mean something different. Retention means holding on to some players in advance who then do not enter the auction. Auction means competitive bidding for the rest. In KCL's case, retention first, then the October 17 auction. Now let's look at the list of ten retained players. Bhiwani Bulls—Devank Dalal. Hisar Heroes—Ashu Malik. Karnal—two. Panipat—two. Gurugram Gurus—three. Total ten. Here's an interesting pattern. Gurugram kept three, Hisar one. There is certainly a difference in squad-building philosophy. But the biggest message is that each team has been built around a raider. Bhiwani around Devank, Hisar around Ashu. This is the classic single-point dependence risk. If Devank gets injured or loses form, Bhiwani's entire offense risks collapse. Yet no team has indicated building around a defender or all-rounder. Whether this is a strategic limitation of KCL at this moment or simply a wait for the auction will become clear after October 17. Devank's price is 19.2 lakh rupees. In PKL, that amount can barely buy a mid-level player. PKL's record buy Pardeep Narwal cost about 1.65 crore rupees. Regular star raiders command 20 to 50 lakh rupees. That means KCL's top price is at or below PKL's floor tier. This single number says KCL is not in a position to compete with PKL but is a semi-professional regional league. In the language of India's sports economy, it is a small tree growing in PKL's shadow. The fruit of this tree will sometimes fall into PKL's market, sometimes survive on local patronage. I think of that evening in Kuala Lumpur. June 2026. Bangladesh-India Women's Asia Cup T20 final. Nahida Akter's 3/21. In a nearby café, the Russia World Cup was playing. That day I wrote that 64 men's matches were spread across 11 Russian cities, while 23 women's matches were confined to a single regional feed. Today, looking at Haryana's KCL, I feel the same stratification operates within men's kabaddi. PKL is that World Cup of 11 cities; KCL is that single regional feed. The gap between Devank's 19 lakh and Narwal's 1.65 crore is not just a difference in two players' prices but evidence of the stratification of men's kabaddi's internal economy. Haryana is India's richest kabaddi mine. The akhara culture of this agricultural state, its wrestling-kabaddi overlap, and the physical build of rural youth—all combine to produce a large number of elite kabaddi players. A boy from this state plays in a local club, then gets picked in the PKL auction, or gets a police or army job. Kabaddi here is not just a game but a ladder of class mobility. The first step of that ladder could be a regional league like KCL. But the income of a player standing on the lowest rung of this ladder is so low that when PKL calls, he will jump—that is natural. As a result, KCL's star-retention capacity is limited. I remember 2026. The district round of the Bangamata Gold Cup in Rangpur. 16 teams, almost no journalists. With a borrowed phone and a tripod, I live-streamed nine matches on Facebook. 4,200 views. A 15-year-old striker from Gangachara beat two defenders and scored; that clip was shared 900 times. That experience taught me that the pitch exists before the coverage. I just brought the phone. In KCL's case too—media coverage may not have arrived, but the kabaddi pitch on Haryana's soil has existed for a long time. Now comes the most important question of this report: what is KCL really? A regional league, all five teams from Haryana cities. This does not mean it is a national-level league. It does not mean it is an alternative to PKL. It means a new tier is being created at the bottom of India's kabaddi pyramid. This tier is not for PKL's stars but for those who have not had the opportunity in PKL or have but are getting limited time. It is a feeder league, where prices are low, stars are few, but dreams are not lacking. According to KCL Chairman Balwan Singh's statement, the retention process is for team continuity and squad-building continuity. This suggests the league wants to build itself as a stable product. But the question is, does this stability lie only in retaining stars? Squad balance, the importance of defenders and all-rounders, and bench depth—the league has no clear message on these. The October 17 auction will answer this question. Let me speak from my experience. While covering women's sports, I learned that audience numbers alone cannot measure a scoreboard. How many women were in the stands, who they were, why they came—these questions matter too. In KCL's case that lens does not directly apply because it is a men's league. But the question is the same: who is the audience for this league outside five Haryanvi cities? Who is the broadcaster? Who is the sponsor? These pieces of information are missing, which is itself a signal. I flip to a page in my old notebook. November 2026. During the pandemic, I interviewed 31 women athletes. One of them said, "We keep training, but who is watching?" That question applies to KCL today as well. The league will run, players will play, but who will watch? If there is no audience, no broadcast, no sponsor, how long will a five-team league survive? I see KCL as an opportunity. This league is an institutional form of Haryana's kabaddi culture. A platform for players left outside PKL. But to build a sustainable foundation for this platform, the league must answer three questions. First, what are the broadcast and sponsorship arrangements? Second, what are the players' contracts and security? Third, what is KCL's relationship with PKL—a partner league or a rival? Without these answers, the league's future cannot be determined by retention lists alone. I close the phone. The night grows deeper in Rangpur. The five teams of Haryana's five cities may be asleep now. But on October 17 is their auction. Before that, they will think about these ten names. Devank, Ashu, and the others. Some of them may be dreaming of playing in PKL. Some may be thinking this league is the biggest stage of their lives. I feel KCL's real test is not in auction prices but in the presence of spectators on the field. Because stars can be bought with money, but the love of spectators cannot. Remember one thing: the pitch was there before the coverage was. I just brought the phone. In KCL's case too. Kabaddi was, is, and will be in Haryana's akharas. The question is only whether a sustainable league will be built around it. The October 17 auction will not answer that; the first day's crowd will.