I Hate Asking Friends for Match Fees. So I Built This.

I Hate Asking Friends for Match Fees. So I Built This.

I never wanted to become the guy who keeps asking,

"Bhai, ₹300 baaki hai."

But somewhere along the way, that's exactly what happened.

If you've ever captained a local cricket club, you already know this story.

You spend all week finding a ground.

Making sure there are enough players.

Booking an umpire.

Buying new balls because the old ones disappeared after last Sunday's match.

Making teams.

Finding substitutes because two people suddenly remembered they had a family function.

Then Sunday comes.

You play.

Everyone enjoys themselves.

People hit sixes.

Someone drops a sitter.

Someone claims the pitch is "too slow."

Everyone laughs, shakes hands, takes a team photo...

...and goes home.

That's when your second job begins.

Not captain.

Not opener.

Not wicketkeeper.

Accountant.

It always starts with just ₹300

Let's say you've got 22 players.

Ground rent is ₹4,400.

Two new balls cost ₹800.

The umpire charges ₹1,000.

A few bottles of water add another ₹400.

Total?

₹6,600.

Split between 22 players.

₹300 each.

Simple.

Or at least it should be.

Instead, your WhatsApp group starts looking like this.

Sent.

Done 👍

Paid yesterday.

I'll send after lunch.

Can I give cash next week?

Bro I only batted three overs.

I came late.

I left early.

I wasn't in the playing XI.

I forgot.

And somehow that simple ₹300 becomes a puzzle that follows you for the next ten days.

The screenshots begin

If you're lucky, people send payment screenshots.

Some crop them.

Some don't.

Some send screenshots from last month by mistake.

One player sends the confirmation SMS instead.

Another forwards the transaction history.

One player sends a screenshot... but paid the wrong UPI ID.

Now you're zooming into blurry images trying to read transaction IDs.

You're comparing timestamps.

Checking Google Pay.

Checking PhonePe.

Checking your bank statement.

Opening Excel.

Closing Excel.

Opening WhatsApp again.

You spend more time matching payments than you spent batting.

Nobody is trying to cheat you

Here's the thing.

Most players aren't dishonest.

Life is just busy.

People genuinely forget.

Someone is driving.

Someone has kids.

Someone remembered halfway through dinner.

Someone thought they had already paid.

Someone paid another captain instead.

Nobody is trying to make your life difficult.

But that doesn't change the outcome.

You're still the one trying to figure out where the missing ₹900 went.

The awkward message

Every captain has typed this message.

Hi guys, just a reminder. A few payments are still pending. Please send ₹300 whenever possible.

Nobody likes sending it.

You wait a day.

Then another.

Eventually you tag names.

Then someone replies,

"Bro, I already paid."

Now you're searching through hundreds of WhatsApp messages trying to prove whether they did or didn't.

The conversation becomes awkward.

Not because of the money.

Because these aren't customers.

They're your friends.

You play cricket together every weekend.

You've celebrated birthdays together.

You've travelled for tournaments together.

Now you're reminding them about ₹300.

It feels wrong.

The part nobody talks about

People think running a cricket club is about cricket.

It's not.

Cricket is the easy part.

The difficult part is everything around it.

Booking grounds.

Finding players.

Replacing last-minute cancellations.

Collecting money.

Keeping track of expenses.

Paying the ground owner.

Buying balls.

Paying umpires.

Remembering who paid cash.

Remembering who paid online.

Remembering who never paid at all.

You don't realise how much work goes into running a club until you become the person running one.

Then suddenly every Sunday night disappears into bookkeeping.

I got tired of it

One evening I looked at my laptop.

Excel was open.

WhatsApp Web was open.

Google Pay was open.

My bank statement was open.

I had four different windows just to answer one question.

Who still owes ₹300?

That was the moment it hit me.

Why am I doing this manually?

Why does every cricket captain have to invent their own system?

Why are we all using spreadsheets that only one person understands?

And why hasn't anyone built something specifically for local cricket clubs?

I wasn't building an app

I wasn't trying to build a startup.

I wasn't looking for an excuse to write code.

I just wanted my Sunday evenings back.

Every captain has their own "system."

One guy keeps everything in Excel.

Another uses a notebook.

Someone writes pending payments in the Notes app.

Some clubs have a WhatsApp group just for payments.

Another group for availability.

Another one for tournaments.

Somewhere along the way, you end up using five different apps to play one game of cricket.

That didn't make sense to me.

If ordering food takes one app...

Booking a cab takes one app...

Sending money takes one app...

...why does running a cricket club need five?

Then I noticed something

It wasn't just my club.

Whenever I'd meet captains from other clubs, the conversation always ended the same way.

Not about batting.

Not about bowling.

Not even about that controversial LBW decision.

It always came back to money.

"Half my team still hasn't paid."

"Bro, I don't even know who's pending anymore."

"I'm short ₹1,500. I'll cover it for now."

"Our treasurer stopped coming because he got tired of this."

Different clubs.

Different cities.

Same problems.

It wasn't our club that was broken.

The way we managed clubs was.

The problem isn't ₹300

People think the problem is collecting ₹300.

It's not.

The real problem is trust.

Not because your friends aren't trustworthy.

Because nobody remembers.

Imagine this.

You play every Sunday.

Twenty-two players.

₹300 each.

That's nearly a hundred payments every month.

Now add...

Ground rent.

Tournament fees.

New jerseys.

Practice sessions.

Winter tournament.

Summer tournament.

Someone pays cash.

Someone pays online.

Someone pays two matches together.

Someone accidentally pays twice.

Six months later, nobody remembers anything.

Now somebody asks,

"Didn't I already pay for that tournament?"

You honestly don't know.

So you open Excel.

Again.

The captain always loses

Here's something funny.

The captain is usually the last person to get paid back.

Ground owner wants money today.

The umpire wants money today.

The guy selling cricket balls wants money today.

But players?

Players pay...

Tomorrow.

Or after salary.

Or after dinner.

Or after the next match.

So what happens?

The captain pays first.

Again.

I've seen captains with ₹10,000...

₹20,000...

Sometimes even ₹40,000...

Stuck because they're waiting for everyone else.

Nobody notices.

Because that's just "how clubs work."

But it shouldn't be.

Cricket should never feel like debt collection

Nobody joins a cricket club because they love spreadsheets.

Nobody wakes up excited to reconcile UPI transactions.

Nobody enjoys reminding their friends for money.

Yet that's exactly what many captains end up doing every week.

And slowly...

Something changes.

You stop looking forward to Sundays.

Not because you don't love cricket.

Because you know what comes after it.

The accounting.

The follow-ups.

The awkward conversations.

The endless checking.

The game ends at 1 PM.

Your work starts at 2 PM.

That's when Duggy was born

One question kept running through my head.

What if every match already knew...

Who played.

How much everyone owed.

Who had paid.

Who hadn't.

How much the ground owner should receive.

How much was spent on balls.

What the club balance looked like.

Without opening Excel.

Without asking for screenshots.

Without manually ticking names.

That's all Duggy is.

It's not trying to replace cricket.

It's trying to remove everything around cricket that nobody enjoys.

Imagine this instead

You create Sunday's match.

You enter the ground cost.

The umpire's fee.

Maybe a new ball.

Duggy does the maths.

Every player knows exactly what they owe.

As people pay, their status updates automatically.

No screenshots.

No guessing.

No "Bro, check once."

No Excel formulas.

No Sunday-night bookkeeping.

Just cricket.

The best compliment I've received

Someone told me,

"For the first time, I didn't have to ask anyone for money."

That made me happier than hearing,

"The app looks nice."

Because that's why I built it.

Not to make accounting exciting.

That's impossible.

I built it so captains could stop thinking about accounting altogether.

Will it solve every problem?

No.

Someone will still cancel thirty minutes before the toss.

One guy will still forget his whites.

Someone will still ask,

"Bro, batting first?"

And there will always be that player who says,

"Yaar, traffic."

Some things can never be fixed.

But chasing payments?

Keeping records?

Figuring out where club money went?

Those problems don't need to exist anymore.

If this story feels familiar...

There's a good chance you're exactly who Duggy was built for.

Not because you run a cricket club.

Because you've spent a Sunday night wondering,

"Who still owes ₹300?"

I've been there.

That's why I built this.

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Frequently Asked Questions

Is Duggy only for large cricket clubs?

Not at all.

Even if your group has just 15 regular players, keeping track of payments becomes difficult after a few weeks.

Can players pay using UPI?

Yes. Players can pay online, and captains don't need to manually match every payment.

What if someone pays in cash?

Cash payments can also be recorded, so your club ledger stays accurate.

Can I see who hasn't paid?

Yes. Instead of searching through WhatsApp, you'll always know which payments are pending.

Is Duggy a cricket scoring app?

No.

There are already great scoring apps.

Duggy focuses on everything that happens before and after the match—members, money, expenses, and club accounting.

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If you've read this far, you're probably not looking for another app.

You're looking for one less headache every Sunday.

That's exactly why Duggy exists.