SA20 Shows What Works in South African Cricket

On Saturday I attended an event that only a few years ago most people would have thought would never happen in South Africa again.

I was at a domestic cricket match at the Wanderers and it was jam-packed, something that was almost unthinkable not long ago. The stands were full, the atmosphere was festive, and the day felt like an occasion.

The visitors from Cape Town, the defending champions MI Cape Town, beat the Joburg Super Kings comfortably. Despite the win, Cape Town remain near the bottom of the log, but none of that really mattered. What mattered was that Jo’burgers had turned up in their thousands for a domestic match, many of them families, groups of friends, and casual fans who were clearly there for the experience as much as the match.

This match was part of the SA20, now in its fourth season, and one of the expanding group of T20 leagues around the world. Six city-based teams play a simple double round robin followed by knockouts. On paper, there is nothing radical about the format. What is radical, in the South African context, is that people actually care about the tournament.

For much of the past decade, domestic cricket in South Africa survived on fumes. Interest narrowed almost entirely to the Proteas. Provincial matches were played in near-empty stadiums, often with more players and officials than spectators. Even loyal cricket supporters struggled to explain why they should spend time and money on competitions that felt like development exercises rather than events.

The SA20 has broken that pattern because it operates under a completely different set of incentives.

First, it is built to win an audience. Franchise owners, sponsors, and broadcasters care about bums on seats, television ratings, and brand value. That pressure shapes everything. Matches are scheduled at sensible times. Marketing is aggressive and visible. Matchdays feel festive, social, and worth leaving home for. When performance slips, commercial partners push back. Accountability is real and immediate.

By contrast, much of domestic cricket exists because it must exist. It is funded, scheduled, and administered to satisfy governance requirements rather than audience demand. When a competition fails to attract fans, there is little consequence beyond quiet disappointment. That difference alone explains much of the gap in energy and attention.

Second, SA20 is protected. It has a clear window, calendar priority, and concentrated resources. It does not compete with international fixtures, school terms, or a cluttered domestic schedule. Scarcity gives it weight. Fans know when it is on, plan around it, and feel they are part of something finite and special.

Contracted Proteas are also required to be available for the SA20 and teams are bolstered by a number of international players.

Domestic cricket, by comparison, is spread thin. Too many teams, too many competitions, and too little promotional focus mean nothing feels urgent or important. When airtime, money, and attention are diluted, even good cricket struggles to feel meaningful.

Third, SA20 imports proven expertise. All six SA20 teams are owned by companies or entities that also own teams that play in the Indian Premier League (IPL), the biggest T20 league in the world (and by some measures the second-richest sports league on the planet). This linked ownership brings hard-won knowledge about ticketing, entertainment, broadcast packaging, and digital engagement. These are not small details. They determine whether a league looks professional, modern, and confident, or whether it feels like an administrative afterthought.

Traditional domestic competitions are often run by capable administrators who nonetheless think like administrators. The result is cricket that is organised efficiently but sold poorly. SA20 flips that logic. It is run as an audience business first and a cricket competition second, and the quality of presentation reflects that.

Fourth, team identity is simple and strong. Six franchises, stable branding, star players, and consistent narratives make it easy for casual fans to follow. You know who you support, who the rivals are, and why a match matters.

Provincial cricket has struggled here for years. Constant restructuring, shifting formats, and weak storytelling have eroded emotional attachment. When teams change names, competitions change formats, and stakes are unclear, loyalty never really forms.

There is also a cricketing reason for SA20’s success that is uncomfortable but important.

Selection is performance driven. Coaches and captains pick balanced XIs based on cricketing requirements. There are no racial quotas to manage, no political calculations to weigh, and no sanctions hanging over team selection. The only requirement is that teams field a majority of South African-qualified players. In South African domestic cricket, teams are required to field a minimum of six players of “colour”, and of those, three must be “black African”. This is not a requirement in the SA20.

The result is higher-quality cricket. Teams are balanced. Roles are clear. Players are picked on form and fit. That sharpens competition and improves the spectacle. When spectators pay to watch elite sport, they want to see excellence, not compliance.

This does not mean transformation is irrelevant. It means that using domestic team selection as a blunt political tool has real sporting and commercial costs. Those costs are visible in empty stands and declining relevance elsewhere, and just as visible in the full stadiums of the SA20.

The broader lesson from the SA20 is not mysterious. When a competition is treated as a product rather than an obligation, when incentives reward excellence rather than box ticking, and when administrators are accountable to fans rather than politics, people show up.

South Africa’s domestic cricket problem is not a lack of interest in the game. It is a system that spreads limited talent too thin, imposes non-sporting constraints on selection, and then wonders why the product struggles to attract attention.

The SA20 already shows what works. Fewer teams, higher standards, clear windows, simple narratives, and selection based on performance. The Wanderers on Saturday was not an anomaly. It was a glimpse of what South African cricket looks like when excellence is allowed to lead.