The remarkable Mr Kohli

Virat Kohli grimaces. He is wearing a helmet but camera technology is advanced enough to show us his facial contortions. We are in the 16^th over. The asking rate is two runs a ball. And Kohli has missed an offcutter from Josh Hazlewood. This, he seems to be telling us, is unacceptable. He practises the cover drive (which he had wanted to play), then imitates Hazlewood’s wrist-tweak.

Tiny episodes like these may mean very little in the grand scheme of things. No scorecard records them. No YouTube clip will immortalize “18 dots balls after which Kohli was angry at himself”. Yet, to see him charge and miss and berate himself, cursing, looking up to the heavens, crunching his teeth, widening his eyes – each is part of the Kohli experience. To watch him bat is to ride along in a rollercoaster of emotions, rising with him, falling with him, swearing, fist-pumping – all through the run-chase.

Over the years his temper has cooled. He is less of a brat, more dignified towards opponents’ mothers and sisters. These days it’s hard to imagine of him flipping the bird at an away crowd. And his celebrations are far more genteel. But occasionally the essential Kohli reveals himself. Like after steering India to victory against Pakistan he walked off the ground, while being high-fived my team-mates, with: “That’s it boys. It’s fucking our hometown. Nobody taking it away.” Now how beautifully Virat is that?

Hazlewood runs in again. But the rest of the over, Kohli the man has switched modes. He is now Kohli the machine, picking off 22422: a masterclass in placement, timing, angling and furious running. The first double he finishes with a full-length dive. The next double is made easy by an Aaron Finch misfield (which was probably Kohli induced to start with). Then a pause for breath, making Hazlewood wait few seconds, before unleashing an awshucks blast to midwicket: down the track, head still, wrists immaculate, field neatly bisected. Then he taunts Finch with two more to deep cover, before picking off another couple to fine leg.

There is nothing wishy-washy about these twos. Kohli hits, Kohli sprints, Kohli turns, Kohli sprints back. He understands that the long square boundaries give him a head start. He knows his captain at the other end will back him up no matter what. Each stroke is calibrated for power, spin and angle. The ball strikes the bat’s middle, the wrists turn as if oiled. The run rate is still hovering at two runs a ball (just as it was at the start of the over) but the mood has comprehensively shifted. The crowd is behaving as if he has reverse-scooped five successive sixes. The commentators are going nuts. The bowler is unnerved. Virat Kohli has brought on this extraordinary atmosphere by doing little out of the ordinary.

Once done with his second run off the last ball, he signals to the dressing room for water. Now water is important to Kohli. He apparently makes sure he drinks a specific amount of water each day (of a specific brand of bottled water) and, according to R Ashwin, does so with militant discipline. Kohli himself admits he is a “freak for keeping things clean”. Team-mates talk about how particular he is about the food he eats. All this happened post 2011, when Kohli says he started developing strong work ethics.

This attention to detail is apparent on the field, and never more so than when he is chasing. He is in no rush to impose himself, not for him the raging counterattack. Tricky pitch? No need to drastically alter one’s approach. Fifty up? That’s all fine but why hasn’t the umpire called one bouncer for the over yet? The rest of the top-order are trying to hit themselves out of trouble. Kohli only wants to find the gaps and wage a war against the dots. Everything else he can get to in due course.

That due course arrives in the 18^th over with 39 needed off 18. Everyone knows it’s time for running Kohli to give away to smashing Kohli. What is also clear by now is that Kohli is unlikely to ramp, scoop, lap, paddle or reverse. That is all too crude, unacceptable to his finely tuned chasing method. The ball must strike the middle of the bat. The gap must be found. And the fielders must stand no chance. This is batting as understood by a five year old, batting as mastered by Kohli.

The next two overs produce 35. There are two pulls, two square drives, two lofts over extra cover (one clears the ropes) and a majestic cover drive that should have been frozen in time. Watch those shots again. Pause them just before bat meets ball. And pause them again when he is into his follow through. So classical is the execution that you realize how he could have played exactly in the same way in a Test, ODI, T20 or a six-a-side hitout in a beach, park or gully. The Kohli method is foolproof. It works in all formats, against all opposition, in all conditions. Crowd noise? What crowd noise?

Kohli finished on 82 – and as much as one tries to avoid comparisons, it’s hard to overlook the poetic ring this number comes with. Twenty-two years ago another Indian made an unforgettable 82 that would launch a new era in Indian cricket. The circumstances are not comparable (this is a world tournament, that was a mere bilateral series) yet there is something similar in the thrill that both innings triggered and the effect they had on those watching. To see Tendulkar careen along at such a berserker pace, launching into the bowling with such ferocity, was to be gobsmacked by the possibilities that lay ahead. And it would usher in a new phase for India’s ODI side, leading to some indelible innings over the next few years.

Kohli’s 82, though, was no bolt in the blue. He had guided India to the finish in the past and as long as he was in, the scales were in their favour. The longer he stayed the easier the task seemed to get. And by the end the real shock was that it was actually no shock at all.