Virat Kohli’s Test career was never going to be about subtlety. That much was clear when he burst onto the scene, a clearly prodigious talent with a swagger and cockiness to match. The big moments – good and bad – were always accompanied by expletives, the bowlers were given flying kisses, and soon enough, the entire team was sporting inked arms and perfectly curated beards and fades. The Kohli era was about so much more than his batting prowess. Virat Kohli retires
And yet, despite how it began, the journey ended not with fireworks, but a hush, when Kohli announced his retirement on Instagram, before a series in England that many had already pencilled in as his swansong.
Virat Kohli was misunderstood, particularly here in Australia where fans notoriously give their worst to the opposition’s best. And, occasionally, Kohli deserved it.
Those that know him off the field speak widely of a humble, respectful man who values his family and friends, has a cheeky personality, and gives his time generously.
When I met Kohli over the course of a few days during the 2018-19 Boxing Day Test, I was immediately taken by his calm, almost meditative demeanour. Perhaps it was the circumstances; our interactions primarily took place while relaxing in a Melbourne rooftop pool. But away from the cameras and the hundreds, thousands, millions of eyes that follow his every move, Kohli was the consummate gentleman: candid but polite, introspective but warm. Virat Kohli retires
That, of course, stood in stark contrast to his on-field persona. There, he commanded attention whether he’d earned it that day or not. He led as a general might – imperious, aggressive, always in the thick of it. His intense fitness culture, inspired in part by military discipline, raised the physical standards of Indian cricket almost overnight.
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Kohli’s extreme confidence – like many elite athletes, often wantonly crossing into arrogance – was his shield. He was no Tendulkar, who bore the weight of a billion dreams with an almost monastic serenity that belied the pervading nerves and anxiety that accompanied his time at the crease. Kohli made fans feel like he wanted their expectations; in fact, he craved them. When Tendulkar was at the crease, the worst was possible. When Kohli was at the crease, anything was possible.
And Indian cricket needed that.
After the gentle nobility of Dravid, the statesmanlike Kumble and the inescapably stoic Dhoni, here came a man who made you feel what he was feeling. Passion, rage, triumph, despair – they spilled out from him with no filter. He struck the ball with a ferocious grace, his famously intense gaze never faltering. He was a veritable panther when fielding in the covers. He would engage constantly with the crowd when stationed at the boundary, occasionally to his detriment.
Under Virat Kohli – or at least on his foundations – India became the best all-round Test team of their generation. They conquered Australian shores for the first time in their history, only to repeat the feat again just two years later. They came agonisingly close in England and South Africa, leaving disappointed with draws that other teams would have celebrated as victories. No longer subcontinent bullies, this was a team that expected to win anywhere.
But Kohli’s aura has been dimming for some time now. The runs had all but dried up. The magical knocks, once routine, became rare. His glittering captaincy record – the best ever by an Indian – became a distant memory. Younger stars – Gill, Jaiswal, Bumrah – rose, not in his shadow but well beyond it.
Just as Kohli came at the perfect time to give India the snarl it needed, so too has the team perhaps outgrown Kohli’s brashness. Not because it wasn’t valuable, but because it was no longer necessary.
And so he bows out. And for Test cricket, this departure will hit hard.
Virat Kohli was its unlikely but unwavering champion. In an era blitzed by T20 leagues and franchise glitter, he wore his whites with pride and spoke openly about the primacy of Test cricket above all else. He sold the idea that a grinding 50 on a cracked pitch in Johannesburg meant more than blasting 100 off 40 balls in Bengaluru in his favourite blood reds. He spearheaded the charge to assemble a fast-bowling cartel in India. He urged and persuaded India’s faltering Test audiences to care again.
As Virat Kohli retires, following his friend and successor Rohit Sharma who made his own announcement just days ago, there’s an unmistakeable sense of loss.
Not just for Kohli, though he will of course be missed; but for the little bit of Test cricket that perhaps retired with him this day.
Also watch: Thank You, King Kohli!
