Knowing Virat Kohli has been a great privilege. I saw him grow, not just as a cricketer, but as a force of nature. From a fiery young talent to the colossus who came to define an era, he rose not by chance, but through an almost obsessive devotion to his craft. It was his punishing hard work that drove him to the summit.
And with him, he lifted Indian cricket, transforming it into a powerhouse, feared and respected, the most formidable team on the planet. Being part of this team built by Virat will remain special to my heart.
From Sunil Gavaskar to Sachin Tendulkar, I have not encountered a cricketer with such a fierce desire to play the game. He wanted to own it and did that with his unbridled passion and energy. He had the rare ability to stare down his opponent, seize control of the battle, and bend its rhythm to his will — a quality that placed Virat in a league of his own.
How do I look at Virat? An individual who had no challenge. A leader who cracked the whip to extract the best out of his team. A great ambassador for Test cricket when the format was losing out to the explosion of T20 cricket. True, T20 brings in the moolah, but Virat brought the fans to the Test arenas, at home and overseas.
Tendulkar’s magical knocks drew cricket lovers from all over the world. Virat, too, achieved that status on the strength of his stupendous passion and talent, which he kept honing by accepting his role as the greatest ambassador for red-ball cricket.
To me, he is also the greatest red-ball captain ever. Forty wins in 68 Tests as captain places him in a rare category.
He was a man who loved to be in the thick of action. The camera would pick him in different acts — as a fielder, batsman, taking fantastic catches, inflicting incredible run-outs. You couldn’t take him out of the game — he wouldn’t let you.
At the fall of every wicket, he was the first to reach the bowler, roaring, clapping, and leading. When he ran between the wickets, he didn’t just run; he sprinted the fastest for the second and third runs. And when he celebrated, it was volcanic: fist pumping, feet thumping, joy uncontained and contagious. He didn’t just want to win; he wanted the world to feel it with him.
Virat Kohli’s duel with Aussie speedster Mitchell Johnson added spice to India’s 2014 Tour Down Under.
| Photo Credit:
AP
Virat Kohli’s duel with Aussie speedster Mitchell Johnson added spice to India’s 2014 Tour Down Under.
| Photo Credit:
AP
I don’t like comparisons. I’ve been asked about Gavaskar and Tendulkar. I was lucky enough to share the dressing room with them. But I saw Virat from a different vantage — not just from the comfort of the broadcaster’s box, but through the suffocating pressure that only a dressing room can know. I saw him walk out not to play cricket, but to command it. To own the battlefield. In doing so, he didn’t just win games; he rewired how India played cricket.
It was exciting plotting those Test victories. His batting form was paramount to the cause, but it was not just about coaching, making runs or taking wickets. Credit should be given to the magnificent work by the support staff, which made India the best fielding side in the world. It was collective, but Virat’s positivity was critical to India’s success. It was unreal the way he took on the responsibility of thinking for every member of the team.
Virat was the most reassuring presence for newcomers, a captain who stood firmly behind his players. The way he backed them, especially in difficult moments, drew out their best. Players embraced his leadership with the same trust and enthusiasm once reserved for M.S. Dhoni.
Virat was, in every sense, a player’s captain — giving everything he had, and expecting nothing less from those around him. His handling of the Mohammed Shami episode exemplifies how he stood up for his teammate when the fast bowler was subjected to unfair social media trolling after the 10-wicket loss to Pakistan in the 2021 T20 World Cup.
I can rate Virat the best batsman of the modern era. A complete batsman who came to eliminate his flaws and turn them into assets on the pitch. At one stage of his career, his average across all three formats was 50-plus. What a phenomenal figure he was in world cricket. You had to see the joy enveloping his opponents when they saw his back. Getting Virat’s wicket was a throwback to when the opponents were assured of a comfortable position on getting the scalps of Gavaskar and Tendulkar.
Do you remember how he rebuilt himself for England? He must have doubted his credentials after the nightmare tour of 2014 (134 runs in five Tests). Four years later, he returned to conquer. He toyed with the English attack (593 runs in five Tests). On his way to that long-awaited century on English soil, he walked the tightrope between restraint and radiance at Edgbaston. He tamed James Anderson — England’s master of movement — not with swagger, but with patience. It was a masterclass in defensive batting. He assumed the stature of greatness on that tour.
And if that England tour revealed his resolve, Australia revealed his appetite. The seven Test centuries he hit in Australia confirmed his greed to excel. He studied the conditions, understood when to leave, when to strike, and always, when to fight.
Virat’s work ethic was the most infectious trait that galvanised the team into world cricket’s most performing and fit bunch. He was a terror for the opposition but a friend and guide for his teammates. I have seen players from the opposition approach him for guidance, and Virat was always eager to help. I have seen him part with some excellent bats because he was not an insecure competitor.
It was common to see Virat go through his fitness drills without being prompted, taking 40 to 50 catches and practising run-outs from different positions and angles. His drive for perfection was nothing short of madness. I remember this Test at Cape Town in 2018. India lost the Test, but Virat’s show of tenacity left us all stunned. He hit a first-innings century (153) in the next match at Centurion that took the wind out of the South African bowlers.
To prepare for the second Test, he hit the nets with bowlers who were instructed to bounce the ball from 18 yards. He didn’t flinch. He chose to meet fire with fire, and that’s when my admiration for him deepened. He was the ultimate team man — selfless, relentless, unbreakable. He didn’t just lead the team; he became its heartbeat. And when the fight got tough, you could bet he’d be the last man standing.
Virat was a captain forged in fire: relentless in pursuit, unwavering in intent. Every waking hour was bent toward one goal: to make India the best in the world. And he did. Under his leadership, India climbed to the top of the Test rankings, and more importantly, began conquering the final frontier — winning overseas.
What set him apart wasn’t just his numbers, but his grit — a refusal to back down, especially against the best in the business. I can never forget his verbal exchange in 2014 with Mitchell Johnson in Melbourne. He kept needling the Aussie during the lunch break. Both stared at each other, but I could see that Virat’s ferocity gave the Australian a strong message. A fight was on. It surely was. Virat hammered a sensational century (169) to win his battle with the bowlers in a draw that saw India emerge with heads held high.
Of the centuries he has scored in Australia, I am fascinated by the one in Perth in 2018. It was a fast track with the ball flying around, but he tore into the bowlers even as most other batsmen looked ordinary on that pitch. Tendulkar also hit a century in Perth in 1992, but then the conditions were so different.
I am sure Virat still had two years of Test cricket left in him. I would have loved to see him in England this summer. It would have been a good idea to hand him the captaincy for the tour, but he would know best why he decided to leave. Maybe mental fatigue drove him to decide because he was as fit as any other player in the team.
He knew his body best, but the mind would have played the decisive role. I will not rule out burnout as the decisive factor in curtailing his career at a critical phase of Indian cricket.
For me, Virat will remain the most influential cricketer of the last decade. He had fans worldwide, especially those who turned up at Test matches to watch him bat like no one else. A batsman who could hit a boundary at will and someone who would pick the best bowler in the opposition camp to send a strong message.
Undoubtedly the most scrutinised batsman in world cricket, he was also the best prepared to fight in the middle. His making people watch Test cricket will be an enduring legacy. The team will forever miss his wild celebrations at the fall of a wicket and the joy he expressed at a partner’s batting feat.
He is still around to serve Indian cricket in ODIs, but I also know that Virat will walk away from the game once he is done playing cricket. He is not the kind who would like to coach or take on the role of a broadcaster. I will miss him when India plays its first Test in England. He was a champion, and that is what I would like to remember — never conceding an inch.
As told to Vijay Lokapally