Virat Kohli, Bengaluru’s favourite child, returned to the city as a non-captain after the longest time. Aadya Sharma was present at the venue to witness the rekindling of the mutual love between Kohli and the Chinnaswamy crowd.
It just wasn’t your average sleepy Saturday afternoon in Bengaluru. A couple of hours ahead of the pink-ball game, the first Test here in nearly four years, scores of vehicles had lined up around the Chinnaswamy stadium’s perimeter, buzzing with a volume of people unseen since the pandemic. Half a kilometre away, the entire Church Street was cordoned off, all for Royal Challengers Bangalore’s much-hyped event to announce their next captain, bizarrely scheduled the same day as a Test match. There was a big common link between those two, though: Virat Kohli.
Kohli’s no longer skipper, neither for India nor for the Royal Challengers, but the Bengaluru masses absolutely adore him. When he’s walking across the turf at the Chinnaswamy, an imaginary spotlight constantly glides over him. When watching from the stands, it’s hard to not look at him; your gaze might eventually drift off to the other 12 men on the field, but the Bengaluru crowd will pull you back, chanting ‘Virat’, or ‘Kohli’ or one of the several different variations of his name.
The Kohli mania began when Rohit Sharma, his successor, trudged back after being dismissed for 15. The crowd erupted in unbridled joy: nowhere else in India would you hear the home captain’s dismissal being cheered so passionately. It was all for India’s No.4, pacing out just like he had numerous times on this ground, mostly with a red kit on his back.
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A stone’s throw away, an ocean of fans wearing that very red kit had clogged Church Street. Kohli’s seven-year term as captain technically ended today, with the baton being passed on to Faf du Plessis. One street adjacent, Kohli was nudging around Lasith Embuldeniya’s offerings, even a harmless single off his bat eliciting vociferous cheers. There was the odd chant of ‘RCB, RCB’ too. It’s difficult to imagine the team being led by someone other than the figure who’s been at the heart of the franchise’s brand for a decade and more. Kohli isn’t the captain anymore, but he’s still the crowd favourite.
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It’s almost as if Kohli himself draws that energy out of the crowd, like Thor from the clouds. When the floodlights lit up, and the pink ball was jagging around Sri Lankan bats, Kohli was acting nothing like a captain would. Standing next to the actual leader in the slip cordon, he was a picture of child-like zeal, enjoying every bit of the attention the crowd was bestowing at him. When one of the many rounds of RCB chants resurfaced, Kohli cheekily stuck out the bright, red t-shirt he was wearing underneath, pointing repeatedly to explain where his heart was at.
When Rishabh Pant, Kohli and Rohit were together in the slip cordon, they turned into noisy school backbenchers, passing cheeky comments, gesturing animatedly, and joking heartily as the bowler walked back to his mark. Kohli was clearly the class clown, loving the attention as he fidgeted around his space, always the first to appeal, playfully chatting around between deliveries, and comically grooving to the chartbusters that the stadium speakers belted out after every over. There was some Steve Smith-esque shadow batting by the side of the pitch, and a crude impression of Jasprit Bumrah’s action. Bengaluru was amused by the littlest of things.
In the middle of all the histrionics, he would break out of character and solemnly switch into a leader-like figure: he chatted with R Ashwin as he ushered him back to his bowling mark, stole sweat from Mohammed Shami’s forehead as he shined the ball and discussed tactics and himself directed fielders on one side of the ground, almost in sync with Rohit who was marshalling his troops in the other half. It hardly matters that Kohli continues to wriggle through a statistical trough, and doesn’t wear the captaincy armband like he did. The delirious mania for him is untouched, at least in his adopted home.
By the time night had properly set in, the actual cricket, an imbalanced clash with a gaping gulf between the two teams, had turned into an afterthought. Barely anyone in the crowd would have registered the scores from the visiting top order. It was a procession, India marching ahead. Kohli wasn’t the skipper, but he was keeping the crowd on their feet, without a bat or ball in hand.
Barely a fortnight from now, Kohli will be walking out wearing the new RCB colours that were unveiled today. There’ll be no matches in Bengaluru, but Kohli will still be in his element. There’ll be a different crowd, a different dance, a different bowler to talk to. Kohli, the captain, won’t be there, but his theatre will continue.
