Kabali, Kohli and Cook – what makes for pleasant viewing

Kabali, Kohli and Cook – what makes for pleasant viewing

As the hands of the analog clock ticked past midnight and Thursday (July 21) slipped into oblivion, an overwhelming sense of anticipation gripped two differing, yet undeniably intertwined, sets of fans. Fabulous Friday dawned – for want of a better word – pregnant with the possibility of what the two Ks had to offer. Neither K, it can be safely said, has let anyone down.

We are talking Kabali and Kohli, of course. Even as Virat Kohli was masterfully compiling his 12th Test hundred at the Sir Vivian Richards Stadium in St John’s, the denizens of Chennai were wending their way to movie halls to partake of the latest blockbuster from the Rajinikant stables. Kabali’s first-day first-show was at 1 am; Kohli’s was formalised an hour or so later.

Kohli can’t match the aura or the charisma of the Superstar – no one can, not even Yum Yus Dhoni, mind it! – but he is already a superstar in his own right, the lord of the cricket field, the face of a new India that is constantly looking for ways to improve and excel and stamp its authority on the world. From the stormy petrel he once was, he has blossomed into a wonderfully well-rounded individual who is firmly grounded despite not being oblivious to his exalted status as the captain and torchbearer of the Indian Test team. He is increasingly beginning to assert his views on subjects as wide-ranging as fitness and respect for women, and is establishing himself as not just a role model but a leader too.

With Kohli turning it on, sleep was a distant thought as a first ton on Caribbean soil beckoned. Throughout his innings, Viv Richards waxed eloquent; playing with an authority and a free spirit that clearly had in its thrall the man after whom the venue he was lighting up was named, Kohli homed in on his century with an inevitability that is a testament to his wondrous form of 2016, and a hunger that has been burning bright since he was a young kid sucked into the loving tentacles of the game of bat and ball.

There were no signs of nerves as he screamed past the 80s and came and sat on 99. Not even the unexpected dismissal of Ajinkya Rahane to a rank long-hop fazed him – a grimace and then an empathetic nod were the only indications of Kohli’s emotions – and when he tucked Carlos Brathwaite behind square for an unglamorous single, the moment had arrived.

It was that moment I had been waiting for, as much to celebrate the occasion as to watch how the man himself celebrated it. Celebrations seem to be the in-thing these days, but by any standard, Kohli’s was subdued. A smile and a wave of the bat towards the dressing room, a kiss on the India flag perched proudly atop the BCCI crest on the helmet whipped off the head, an embrace from R Ashwin, pleasantly, surprisingly promoted to No. 6.Kohli has in the past – and he will admit, too – gone overboard with his celebrations, not so much in his gravity-defying leaps to the heavens as with the slew of expletives that were more release than repugnant. But as compelling as those pictures were, they didn’t make for pleasant viewing. And if Alastair Cook feels Misbah-ul-Haq’s press-up celebration on reaching his hundred at Lord’s last Friday, and the entire Pakistan team’s like act on Sunday, wasn’t pleasant viewing, one wonders what he would have made of the boisterous celebrations of the Kohli of old. We will never find out now, will we?

So perhaps we are making a little too much of Cook’s “it’s not pleasant viewing” comment, but the unsaid implication – if not insinuation – was that the push-up routine was a little disrespectful of the opposition. Misbah had explained what prompted him to do so; it was his way of expressing his gratitude and paying tribute to the Pakistan army men that had helped the team out during a boot camp before the tour of England. Younis Khan, the other veteran, orchestrated the post-victory drill – push-ups followed by a military-style salute – in which the entire playing XI took part. It was different, but far from derogatory. England obviously would have been smarting from having been spanked, again, by a subcontinental team at the celebrated home of cricket, but why that celebration should have been not pleasant viewing is something beyond a host of cricket followers.

After all, it wasn’t as if any of the Pakistani players had relieved themselves on the playing surface late at night, under the influence. Ah, but wasn’t that England’s domain, at The Oval in 2013 after their 3-0 Ashes rout of Australia? It wasn’t in front of fans and cameras, but a few members of the team did urinate on the pitch. Had Cook, then the captain too, seen that as he perhaps did, that shouldn’t have made for pleasant viewing, one hopes.

Kohli has in the past – and he will admit, too – gone overboard with his celebrations. But as compelling as those pictures were, they didn’t make for pleasant viewing. And if Cook feels Misbah’s press-up celebration on reaching his hundred at Lord’s, and the entire Pakistan team’s like act, wasn’t pleasant viewing, one wonders what he would have made of the boisterous celebrations of the Kohli of old. We will never find out now, will we?

It also wasn’t as if the Pakistani captain or the players whipped off their shirts and waved it over their heads from the Lord’s balcony, mouthing cuss words, like Sourav Ganguly did after India’s astonishing assault on England’s 325 in the final of the triangular series in 2002. “You make mistakes in life. I made a mistake,” the former India captain acknowledged, though peeling off the shirt is generally a spontaneous outpouring that footballers indulge in regularly knowing full well that it is a yellow card offence. Cuss words, or an abortive attempt to get all his mates to also whip off their shirts, suggest somewhat diminished 

Especially if it was a tit-for-tat for Andrew Flintoff’s gesture at the Wankhede Stadium a few months previously, when England came back from 1-3 down to draw the One-Day International series, and the not exactly well-sculpted allrounder raced around the venue with his shirt in his right hand. Flintoff was to later apologise for that act, calling it “10 seconds of madness”. Having witnessed that first-hand, I can vouch that it wasn’t, to borrow the Cook catchphrase, pleasant viewing.
Flintoff was also the first batsman that I saw celebrating a milestone by holding his bat not by the handle but somewhere towards the middle of the blade, the back of the bat exposed in acknowledgement of whatever applause there might have been. It wasn’t just different, it was designed to give maximum exposure to the bat sponsor. How one can even think of such mundane things in the heat of battle is something beyond most ordinary mortals.
Bowlers celebrating by waving their fists in the batsman’s face after getting him out, fielders flinging the ball on the turf with a swear word or two for effect on catching someone out, batsmen uncharitably pointing bat handles in the direction of the dressing room to make a point to someone or the other – all these aren’t pretty pictures. But push-ups? At 42, after having battled on to score a hundred? Or, as a team victorious in its first Test outside Asia in three and a half years? Bring 'em on!