Virat Kohli’s 58th List A century felt like a grand opera performed inside an empty Royal Albert Hall, flawless in execution, haunting in its silence.
His 83-ball hundred for Delhi against Andhra in the Vijay Hazare Trophy was vintage Kohli, yet the moment unfolded in near solitude at the BCCI Centre of Excellence. There were no roaring stands, no sea of waving flags, and no chants to frame the milestone.
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The Karnataka government’s decision to deny permission for matches at the M. Chinnaswamy Stadium due to security concerns forced the Karnataka State Cricket Association to move fixtures to the Centre of Excellence, a venue closed to spectators.
A maestro without an audience, Virat Kohli’s masterclass
Instead of a packed stadium, the backdrop for Kohli’s long-awaited return to the Vijay Hazare Trophy after 15 years was stark — slow-moving cargo trucks, clusters of police personnel, and a handful of fans peering through barbed concrete walls.
For Kohli, the setting must have felt surreal. For much of the last decade and a half, the 37-year-old has rarely walked onto a cricket field without a thunderous reception. Even his Ranji Trophy return earlier this year, after a 12-year absence, had drawn massive crowds at the Ferozeshah Kotla.
But on a bright Wednesday afternoon, Kohli’s walk to the crease was a lonely one. There were no cheers, no rhythmic chants of “Kohli… Kohli!”, and not even the familiar RCB slogans that follow him across formats and venues.
The silence was broken only by murmurs among fielders, occasional applause from the dressing rooms, and the ambient hum of activity beyond the boundary.
Yet, there was an understated beauty to it all. A cricketer so accustomed to the constant glare of adulation was, for once, alone with his craft.
There were brief chats and high-fives with teammates, a diving stop to cut off a boundary from Ricky Bhui, and a quiet word with Delhi pacer Navdeep Saini after a costly over. At one point, Kohli even broke into a brief jig — perhaps to conjure some theatre in an otherwise muted arena.
Virat Kohli the master batter
If the solitude affected him, it certainly didn’t show in his batting. Aside from a couple of dropped chances, Kohli slipped seamlessly into his familiar ‘Chase Master’ mode.
The full repertoire was on display — pulls, charges down the track to spinners, wristy flicks, crisp cuts, and those trademark straight drives struck with a perpendicular bat.
The milestones arrived quietly. Fifty came off 39 balls, the century off 83. There was no celebratory roar, only a gentle wave towards the dressing room. The silence was so profound that a blink could have meant missing history.
Perhaps, though, Kohli savoured this rare pocket of anonymity. His search for privacy has already led him to establish a base in London, away from the constant attention in India. Here, at the CoE, he found a similar sense of isolation — if only briefly.
The calm didn’t last long. Once the match ended, Andhra players and officials flocked around him for photographs and autographs, all of which Kohli obliged with a smile.
“It was a dream to play in the same match as Kohli. I always wanted to be on the same field as him — even as an opponent,” said fellow centurion Ricky Bhui after the game.
As boxing great Frank Bruno once said: “Boy! That’s cricket.”
