Cricket, as often eloquently written, is more than just a game. It is a theatre, a drama played out on a green stage. And like any good drama, it has its heroes, its villains, and its inevitable denouement. For Indian cricket, Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma have occupied center stage for the best part of a generation, their names etched in the annals of the game alongside Tendulkar and Dravid. But the roar of the crowd, as intoxicating as it is, can sometimes mask the ticking clock. A point arrives, even for the most celebrated batsmen, when the applause begins to sound more like a nostalgic echo than a celebration of present form.
There is a certain
unease in the air these days, a sense that the curtain may be about to fall on
two illustrious careers. The relief that washes over the stands when either
Kohli or Rohit scores a few runs – a palpable sigh of "thank
goodness!" – speaks volumes. It is a far cry from the unbridled joy that
once greeted every boundary. Now, fans find themselves engaged in a constant
exercise of justification, reaching for straws, citing past glories, and
concocting increasingly outlandish explanations for every mistimed shot or
hesitant foot. "Remember that innings at Lord's?" or "He's just
finding his feet” have become familiar refrains that are laden with palpable desperation.
This is never a good sign. A true measure of a cricketer isn't just in the runs
scored, but in the manner of their scoring, the effortless grace, and the
commanding presence. When the narrative shifts from celebrating achievement to
rationalizing shortcomings, it is a clear indication that the twilight of a
career is upon us. It is a bit like watching an aging maestro struggle with a
piece they once played flawlessly. The brilliance is still there, flickering
occasionally, but the consistency, the effortless command, has faded.
Kohli and Rohit
have given Indian cricket so much. Their passion, their dedication, their sheer
will to win, are beyond question. But cricket, like life, is a story with
chapters. And sometimes, the most graceful act is to know when to turn the
page. The time has come, perhaps, for these two titans of the game to hang up
their boots, to walk off the field to a standing ovation, their legacy secure,
rather than risk tarnishing it with diminishing returns. As it has been observed,
the crowd, that fickle beast, can turn in an instant. It is better to leave the
stage while the applause is still ringing in your ears, while the memories are
still golden, than to linger on, clinging to the past, until the cheers fade
into a polite silence. The long innings, is finally over. However, it is a pity
that the gentlemen in question are not listening.
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