He walked in wearing a breezy, washed-print shirt that mirrored the balance he brings to the field—relaxed yet purposeful. Over the past few months, R. Sai Kishore, the left-arm fingerspinner, has juggled roles with the same calm authority: leading IDream Tiruppur Tamizhans to its maiden Tamil Nadu Premier League (TNPL) crown, playing every game for Gujarat Titans in the Indian Premier League (IPL), and sharpening his red-ball craft with Surrey, where an 11-wicket haul across two matches underlined his pedigree. Now, as he recovers from an injury that has sidelined him from the Buchi Babu tournament, the Tamil Nadu captain sits down with Sportstar to discuss leadership, workload, evolving skills, and his team’s Ranji Trophy ambitions.

Excerpts:

Q: You’ve played across three T20 ecosystems — IPL, Syed Mushtaq Ali Trophy (SMAT), and TNPL. How does your mindset shift between them, and how much of it is skill versus psychology?

A: When you go to the IPL, all your senses switch on. There’s a lot at stake because one good season can secure your career. In Mushtaq Ali or TNPL, the standard of cricket isn’t very different, but the mindset is. You can’t take it lightly — you still need the same seriousness while bowling. For me, it’s largely psychological, treating all levels with equal importance. IPL is the one place where the pressure to perform is relentless.

I see it like an artist. Take an A. R. Rahman concert — whether it’s in Wembley, Chennai, or Mumbai, the quality has to remain the same. That’s how I view my game: pure and true to myself, regardless of where I play.

Q: In TNPL you play against familiar faces, while in IPL it’s world-class opponents. Does that make TNPL easier or tougher because they know you well?

A: Skill-wise, IPL is tougher. But psychologically, TNPL can be more challenging. Complacency creeps in — you feel you’ve played the IPL and now you’re back. Maintaining the same focus becomes the real test. In the IPL, you’re naturally driven; it’s the event you prepare for all year. The challenge is to switch on with the same intensity for every other tournament.

Q: Did you personally struggle with that switch when you first returned to TNPL after IPL?

A: Not really. I never had a breakthrough IPL season until this year, so every TNPL was another chance to prove myself. I had to keep making my case stronger. That mindset helped me stay relevant. If I wasn’t getting enough opportunities in IPL, I treated TNPL or SMAT as the stage to showcase and upgrade my game.

Q: What changed this year after your successful IPL season?

A: It felt like a weight off my shoulders. I always believed I was good enough, but hadn’t had the chance to show it. After doing well this year, it was even more important to respect TNPL — because that’s where I got my platform. If you’ve played IPL and return to TNPL without winning games, it doesn’t make sense. I wanted to play with the same intensity I’d bring to an IPL match, and that really helped me.

Sai Kishore treats the TNPL as a stage to showcase and upgrade his game.
| Photo Credit:
THE HINDU

Q: Has TNPL grown into a feeder system for State and IPL cricket, or is it still more of a local tournament?

A: It’s definitely a feeder for State cricket and, for bowlers, even the IPL. TNPL grounds are smaller, wickets turn more, and yet it’s still tough on bowlers. That’s why even established IPL players sometimes struggle here. If the league could replicate IPL-level fast bowling, it would be an even stronger feeder to international cricket.

But we’ve already seen players like Sai Sudharsan, Tushar Raheja, and Ajith Ram make the jump. I myself debuted for Tamil Nadu because of TNPL. So yes, it has been a proper feeder system.

Q: From a bowler’s perspective, how does TNPL differ from IPL in terms of challenges?

A: In IPL, you often have defined roles — maybe just PowerPlay or just death overs — and the workload is shared across a strong attack. TNPL is different. You’re expected to do everything: open the bowling, control the middle overs, and finish at the death. That’s demanding.

Then there’s the ground size. Even IPL venues are small, but not as inconsistent as TNPL, where you might end up with a 50-metre boundary. That won’t happen at the elite level. It doesn’t make one harder than the other, but it changes the dimensions of the contest.

Q: How does workload management actually work? Fans often wonder why a bowler is rested or rotated. What should they understand?

A: Bowling isn’t natural to the body. When you’re young, you don’t feel it. But as the body wears down, there’s only so much load it can handle. It’s basically about balance — how much the body can take versus how much you give it. For fast bowlers, it’s tougher because of the strain. For spinners, the body can handle more, but it’s still a load you need to manage.

Q: Does the workload change across formats? For example, TNPL is one thing, but in Duleep Trophy or Ranji Trophy, you bowl many more overs. How do you prepare?

A: For T20s, my match load is around 24 balls. So, in training, I make sure I bowl about 45–50 balls in a session. That way, my body is ready to handle a full T20 match load.

For red-ball cricket, I scale up. I try to mirror a match schedule. If I expect to bowl 45–60 overs in a game, I spread that out across the week. For example: 25 overs one day, 10 the next, a rest day, then 20 the following day. By the end of the week, I’ve hit that target.

Q: Do you plan this on your own or with support staff?

A: Initially, I never bothered. I was old-school — just bowl until you drop. But after a neck injury, I realised I needed structure. Darren Veness, the Strength & Conditioning Coach at Gujarat Titans, really helped me understand the science behind it.

Now, I keep it simple. If my maximum in a match is 60 overs — 30 in each innings — that’s my benchmark. If I hit that in training, I don’t push further. I’ll switch to batting or fitness work. Otherwise, you can overdo it — bowling 70 or 80 overs in practice just chasing a “feel” that never comes. You might already have bowled enough but still feel unsatisfied.

Q: T20 cricket is heavily driven by data now. In the IPL, you get all kinds of numbers — match-ups, sweeps, reverse sweeps, speeds. Has that trickled into the TNPL as well, or is it more instinct and gut feel?

A: It’s a merger of both. Gujarat Titans are a good example — they don’t rely only on data. Personally, I enjoy data; I like watching videos. But I’d say the best balance is 30 per cent data, 70 per cent instinct.

In TNPL, it’s mostly instinct. You’ve already seen most of the players over the years, and unlike IPL, you don’t have Hawk-Eye or detailed numbers on speeds and deviations. So, gut feel becomes more important.

Q: And for you personally?

A: I used to depend a lot on data. Now, not so much. Because on a given day, anything can happen. Say Suryakumar Yadav — the data shows he’s strong over covers or that he sweeps a lot. But there could be a day when he doesn’t sweep at all. If you’re fixated on the data, you’ll keep waiting for something that never comes. It blocks you.

Sai Kishore doesn’t rely too much on data in T20 cricket.
| Photo Credit:
AP

Q: Any examples where data helped you, or where it worked against you?

A: Plenty. Data helps calm you because it gives you a sense of control — you know a batter’s weaknesses. But ultimately, you still need to execute. If you don’t land the ball where you’re supposed to, the data means nothing. This season, I realised my instinct is powerful. Whenever I backed it, it worked better.

Take Nicholas Pooran. He’s probably the best player of spin right now. In the first game against him, I let the data mess with me. In the second game, yes, he hit me for a six and a four, but I trusted my instinct and came back strong. That was satisfying.

Q: How are bowling plans decided in IPL? Do Ashish Nehra or Shubman Gill tell you exactly when you’ll bowl, or is it flexible?

A: Very flexible. Ashu bhai is on the boundary line, always running combinations in his head like a computer. You never know when he’ll throw you the ball. Once, I was told in the 19th over that I’d bowl the 20th. That’s how it works in this team. And I like it — it matches my leadership style, which is also about instinct and on-the-spot calls.

Q: You’ve come off a strong IPL season with GT and are now captaining in TNPL — different conditions, different expectations. Strategy-wise, how do you approach games?

A: Over the last three years, whether in domestic cricket or local tournaments, I’ve often captained. That has shaped how I see my own game. Initially, I felt I had to do everything myself. Now I’ve found a balance — being captain but also remaining a player.

I don’t micromanage. I want everyone to be their own captain. If someone needs me, I’m there, but I don’t want to control every decision. When you trust people to do their job, they feel empowered. That’s the kind of leader I try to be, and it also frees me up to focus on my own game.

Q: There’s always debate about captains who are bowlers — whether they over-bowl or under-bowl themselves. Do you struggle with that balance?

A: Not really. Most of my captaincy has been instinctive, and I think that’s a strength.

Q: Instinctive in what sense?

A: I don’t go in with rigid plans, especially in T20 where things change so quickly. You might need to shift gears after just four or five overs. My only fixed idea is that swing bowlers should take the new ball. Beyond that, I adjust on the go.

Q: Was there any TNPL game this season where you felt particularly challenged as captain?

A: Yes, the third match against Salem Spartans. I’d just come from the IPL, so I hadn’t seen much of the squad beyond brief observations. A couple of bowlers weren’t in rhythm, and figuring out who to turn to became tricky. Thankfully, we had a four-day break after that. I could watch players closely, understand who handled pressure well, and who was better suited to easier overs. That helped me settle. Beyond that game, I wasn’t really tested much as a captain this season.

Q: Unlike IPL, where you know teammates’ skill sets inside out, TNPL squads are more fluid. How did you adapt — knowing who to trust in the death, or who to back with the new ball?

A: I relied a lot on the support staff. I want them to own their roles, not just the players. If they said someone was a strong death bowler or power-hitter, I backed that call. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but I made the final decision on the field. This season, my leadership was more collaborative — accommodating different inputs rather than dictating everything myself.

Q: That’s quite a contrast from a more authoritarian style. Have you consciously avoided being the blunt, upfront leader?

A: It came naturally. Being upfront and blunt is the easiest thing — you just make decisions and move on without worrying about the bridges you burn. There’s no skill in that.

But over three years of leading teams, I’ve realised you deal with very different personalities. You can’t treat everyone the same way. To get the best out of people, you need different approaches. When that balance clicks, the team functions like a machine — you don’t need to push hard, things just flow.

Q: You sound collaborative by instinct. But were there moments where you had to be the disciplinarian – step in and say, this is the way we’re doing it?

A: Yes, especially in my first full season as captain in 2023–24, when we made the semifinals. That team suited a more directive style. Tamil Nadu, as a side, has often thrived under that kind of leadership – [Dinesh] Karthik led like that, and it worked.

There was one game against Karnataka in Chennai where they took a 150-run lead. We had to decide: do we play it safe for one point, or do we chase 330 and go for an outright win? I wasn’t dictatorial, but I was clear. I told the team, “Let’s go for it. If we lose, fine, but let’s not leave it here. Let’s put pressure on them.” That was a moment where I had to be decisive, and it brought everyone together.

Q: Switching to red-ball cricket. You’ve led Tamil Nadu in the Ranji Trophy. Is your captaincy style similar to T20s, or does it change over four days?

A: Red-ball captaincy came more naturally to me. In T20s, being a bowler made it harder — the game moves so fast. In red-ball, you have time to recover from errors. It’s also more about who you are as a person.

I’ve always been a bowler’s captain. Bowlers could talk to me openly without fear. If someone was out of rhythm, I’d acknowledge it and work with them, rather than taking the ball away. Sometimes with batting captains, there isn’t that empathy.

So, in many ways, I found red-ball leadership easier — the time factor, and the space to support your bowlers.

Tamil Nadu Ranji Trophy captain Sai Kishore says red-ball captaincy comes more naturally to him.
| Photo Credit:
THE HINDU

Q: Has there been a time as a bowler when you felt you could have used more support from your captain?

A: It happens, especially with spinners. In Ranji Trophy, fast bowlers usually get their spells up front – three seamers share the workload early. Spinners often come in just before tea, bowl four or five overs, and then disappear again. So, the first two or three days, you can almost feel non-existent. Handling that was a challenge for me – not frustrating exactly, but it took time to understand how the game flows.

As captain, I know I can’t bowl a spinner all the time either. But I make sure I have the conversation: “This is how the game will unfold.” For a 19-year-old from Tamil Nadu, it’s easy to think, I have to take five or eight wickets every game. When that doesn’t happen, he feels like he’s failed. But technically, he hasn’t – he simply hasn’t had the chance to bowl. Having that clarity makes a big difference.

Q: Do you think the timing of the Ranji Trophy – starting in October when the winter sets in – works against spinners?

A: Not at all. If anything, winter actually helps balance things out. Spin comes naturally into play later in the game, but the cooler conditions keep fast bowlers relevant as well. If the tournament were played in peak summer, fast bowlers would barely be in the game. It would become all about spin from the first innings onwards, which would spoil the balance. The current schedule works – by the second innings, fast bowlers lose their lateral movement, spinners come in, and both skill sets get their share.

Q: And what about flat pitches – like the one in Rajkot, where there’s nothing for bowlers from Day 1 to Day 4? You might have a quick turnaround for the next game. As captain, do you think about protecting your quicks and throwing more overs to spinners?

A: That depends on the stage of the season. If we’ve already qualified, then yes, you manage the quicks and don’t overuse them. But if a win is vital, you have to throw everything at it – use whatever resources you have, no matter the surface. That’s where coaching becomes crucial. A good coach brings the perspective of having been through many title-winning campaigns. That experience helps guide when to hold back and when to push.

Q: Tamil Nadu last won the Ranji Trophy in 1987–88. It’s been a long time. What do you think this comes down to?

A: You can point to many things, but if I had to reduce it to one, it would be oneness within the team. All teams that have punched above their weight — India in the 1983 World Cup, in 2007 T20 — had that togetherness. They believed they were stronger as a unit than as individuals.

Tamil Nadu has thrived whenever we’ve had that spirit. In 2016–17, we won both the Vijay Hazare Trophy and the Deodhar Trophy. It was a very young team. Apart from DK [Dinesh Karthik], no big India names. Just Vijay Shankar, Washi (Washington Sundar), myself, Aparajith, Indrajith, Aswin Crist, Kaushik Gandhi — all youngsters. What made the difference was that sense of unity. If we can recreate that, where every player believes the team’s success matters more than individual milestones, Tamil Nadu will win. If Tamil Nadu wins the Ranji Trophy, individuals will naturally get picked for India.

Q: Is that a conversation you’ve had with the current players?

A: Yes, we’ve discussed it. But implementation is the challenge. Buying into the idea is easy — everyone knows it’s right. The real question is whether you live it wholeheartedly. It’s like telling a batter to “go attack the bowlers” — easy to say, harder to do.

I hold myself to the same standard. If I’m not playing Ranji Trophy cricket with the same intensity I bring to the IPL, how can I expect others to? A youngster coming into the side will look at me. If he sees me fired up, giving everything, he’ll raise his game. If I slack, so will he.

That’s why it’s in the hands of the current India and IPL players, along with the coaches and the system, to set the tone. If we bring that energy and unity, the rest will follow.

Q: In recent years, Indian batters have been criticised for struggling against spin, even at home. Has the standard of playing spin in domestic cricket declined?

A: I think the standard of playing spin without risk has come down. Counter-attacking is still there, and players are more comfortable with it than 10 years ago. Back then, batters wouldn’t counter-attack. They would grind you all day, like Pujara or others of that mould. Now, that grinding element has faded. The white-ball game has brought in more risk-taking.

It’s not unfortunate — it was bound to happen. When you play six months of T20 cricket, singles lose their value. They’re useful, yes, but they’re not “gold”. The real currency is fours and sixes. So, a back-foot punch or a cover drive — low-risk, traditional shots — are less valued than a reverse sweep. Naturally, players would rather switch-hit because there’s no third man, only a slip.

The problem is that if you don’t practise those low-risk shots for six months, you can’t suddenly produce them in a one-month red-ball tournament. That’s why the skill has dipped. But at the same time, it can be a positive. England plays this high-risk style and succeeds. If someone here can adopt it fully, they can become a complete game-changer. You might get out first ball, but if it clicks, the match is over.

That’s what I try to emphasise. Don’t fall into the trap of thinking you’ll suddenly become a traditional player in a month. Instead, double down on what you do best — be even more aggressive. If it fails, no problem, I’ll back you to play the same way next game. But make sure the bowler feels you’re coming after him. That mindset itself can tilt the contest.

India had a torrid time facing New Zealand’s spinners during the home Test series last year. Here, Virat Kohli is bowled by Mitchell Santner.
| Photo Credit:
THE HINDU

Q: Do you think Indian domestic teams will also start adopting this approach?

A: It will happen. You see England play like this, and naturally, others will follow. Even in tournaments like the Buchi Babu, you’ll notice the shift. The grinding game won’t disappear; it still has immense value, but it requires a lot of skill. Over time, it will become the exception rather than the norm because it’s harder to do.

For most players, the mindset becomes: why get out defending when I could have hit it for a boundary? A traditional batter might still back his technique and trust he won’t get out, but the next generation — shaped by T20 — will think differently.

I was fortunate to come through red-ball cricket first. I played six-seven years in the age-groups, bowled to players like Pujara, and then moved into TNPL and IPL. But if you’re starting directly with white-ball cricket at 17 or 18, the base skills just don’t exist.

Even Virat Kohli has pointed this out: what makes him so successful in ODIs is his ability to rotate strike. But the next generation may not value singles. If midwicket is open, they’ll think about clearing it for six, not nudging it around. It’s just a different way of approaching the game.

Q: What did you make of Shubman Gill’s captaincy — especially the switch from IPL to Test cricket?

A: Shubman is a prodigy. I’ve known him since he was 16. The first time we played him in Under-19s, he scored 260 in Patiala. Later in the Ranji Trophy, he got 270. Honestly, it took me four years to figure him out. I even went back to my coach, Ram Kumar, and said: There’s this guy who’s just smashing me around — what can I do? I had to change my trajectory and work on new things purely because of Shubman. I’ve told him this story too.

Sai Kishore hailed his Gujarat Titans skipper Shubman Gill as a prodigy.
| Photo Credit:
SPORTZPICS FOR IPL

Credit goes to his father for shaping him. From childhood, he was made to play every shot mercilessly. He’s supremely skilled, but what makes him exceptional is that he’s also mentally very strong. That combination is dangerous. And he’s taken to captaincy like fish to water. Remember, he had never even captained Punjab because he was always with India. But when the Indian team needed a leader, Shubman stepped in. I’m very happy to see how naturally he’s adapted. Hopefully, in the coming years, he’ll grow into a proper leader.

Q: You’ve captained both Ranji Trophy sides and T20 teams. Are there things a T20 captain must unlearn in red-ball cricket?

A: In red-ball cricket, you can afford to take more chances. That’s the main difference. With so much T20 cricket, captains sometimes forget that a wicket is still a wicket. We spread the field too quickly, trying to stop one boundary. But in red-ball, you can let a batter have those 10 runs and still keep attacking fields.

When I lead in red-ball cricket, I consciously remind myself of that. Even if the opposition is 450 for five, I’ll hold back from spreading the field immediately. I’ll give him those runs, wait, and then make the change. That’s the adjustment — a mindset shift from containing to attacking.

Q: How much do you practise your batting? Did you work on it during the IPL?

A: Honestly, I enjoy batting more than bowling. Who doesn’t love batting (laughs)? I’ve put in a lot of hard work, but last year I didn’t get the returns I wanted. The year before was very good with the bat, but I felt I had trained too much. This TNPL, I deliberately took a step back and let my instincts take over. Sometimes, you practise so much that you kill what comes naturally. I wanted to trust my skill and see it come out in games.

Sai Kishore enjoys batting more than bowling.
| Photo Credit:
THE HINDU

Q: Left-arm spinners traditionally relied on the ball that drifts away and the arm-ball. Now we see so many variations — Akeal Hosein’s drifter, Krunal Pandya bowling bouncers. You’ve also added new ones. How do you decide when to use a variation? Is it instinct or preparation?

A: It’s a mix of both. You need confidence to execute, and you must be willing to risk failure and criticism. Only then can you pull it off. But in the end, instinct plays a big role.

Q: Any new variation you can reveal exclusively?

A: When I first bowled the carrom ball, nobody knew I had it. I’d already been working on it for two years. I used it in Syed Mushtaq Ali Trophy and in low-profile tournaments. In fact, I had bowled it in a game against Mumbai Indians last season. The batsman and keeper picked it, but the cameras didn’t. I was glad — it stayed under the radar. Right now, I’ve got two more variations, but I’d rather not disclose them. Let people find out on the field.

Q: How difficult is it to develop something like that?

A: For me, it was more of a mindset shift. Breaking the cocoon. It’s very hard to do when you’re already good at what you’re doing. My left-arm spin was strong — that was actually the problem. Because it was working, I didn’t feel the need to try something else. If it hadn’t been, I might have started bowling the carrom ball two years earlier.

It took courage to step out of that comfort zone. But once I did, I felt free, even unpredictable. In County cricket, I bowled leg-spin, carrom balls, everything. Suddenly, it shakes the batsman, and that makes my left-arm spin even more dangerous. For me, it was about breaking habits and being fearless.

Q: You played a few games in County cricket. How was the experience?

A: I loved it. Usually, overseas spinners who get County contracts are Test players. I hadn’t played Tests, so for a team to show that trust based on my domestic record meant a lot. I was very grateful — especially since I hadn’t been picked for India A. It felt special that someone noticed me and believed I could do the job. And to go there as an overseas spinner, with the responsibility to deliver, was a proud experience.

Q: You play alongside Rashid Khan at GT. This season, he wasn’t at his usual wicket-taking best — not ineffective, but below his own standards. At that level, when wickets aren’t coming and you’re being hit around, how does a bowler deal with that rut? Is it different in white-ball cricket compared to red-ball cricket?

A: A lot of cricketers go through that phase. For me, the key is to keep a light mind. If you get too attached to performances or tie your entire identity to being a cricketer, it becomes very hard. I love the game, it’s a big part of me, but it’s not the only part of me. I once missed cricket for eight days and honestly didn’t feel restless — I enjoyed being home, spending time on other things. Having that perspective, that there’s more to life, is crucial. Especially in India, where scrutiny is intense.

And I’d call it practical scrutiny. People spend their time and money on cricket; they want to escape their worries, so naturally, they get invested and expect performances. When a player has set high standards, the disappointment is sharper. Look at Virat Kohli — why are fans so hard on him when he has a dip? Because he’s delivered at such an extraordinary level.

Gujarat Titans all-rounder Rashid Khan endured a tough IPL 2025 season, but Sai Kishore backs him to bounce back.
| Photo Credit:
THE HINDU

It’s the same with Rashid. He has always outfoxed batters and been a match-winner. So, even a normal season looks ordinary for him. If a young spinner had the same returns, no one would notice. That’s the weight of achievement — expectations rise, and even consistency can look like underperformance.

Published on Aug 25, 2025