The curtain has finally come down on Virat Kohli’s influential Test career, with the former Indian skipper hanging up his whites this week. Although his tour down under was far from a masterclass, many expected him to soldier on for the five-Test series in England and the busy home season to follow – especially with just 800 runs separating him from the hallowed 10,000-run mark. But perhaps the scars of Australia cut too deep and with the selectors subtly showing him the red light, Kohli may have been nudged toward the exit door.

Test cricket, that unforgiving school of hard knocks, doesn’t grant longevity lightly. No matter how skilled or gritty you are, age starts bowling the tough questions – short of a length, rising awkwardly. In Kohli’s case, the chinks were showing. The man who once drove with arrogance and flicked with disdain was now tentative, caught fishing outside off, a far cry from the front-foot aggressor of old. The writing, as they say, was on the dressing room wall.

When it comes to the Fab Four of modern-day Test batting, Kohli’s name doesn’t quite roll off the tongue with the same weight as Kane Williamson, Steve Smith or Joe Root. His average – sub-50 – tells a tale of a batsman who shone brighter under white lights and white balls. On flat tracks, he was a bully with the bat, feasting on bowlers like a shark in a goldfish tank. But red-ball cricket? That was a different kettle of fish.

Yet, stats alone don’t paint the full picture. Kohli wasn’t just a cricketer; he was a standard-bearer, a trailblazer who dragged Indian cricket into the modern era with bloody-minded intensity. He didn’t just walk the talk – he sprinted it, grunted through it, and demanded others do the same.

From his Under-19 days, it was clear Kohli had the hunger. But few would’ve predicted he’d go on to lead India to the summit of Test cricket, standing tall as both captain and mainstay with the willow. His transformation – from a chubby, butter-chicken-loving Delhi boy to a fitness-obsessed machine – was nothing short of inspirational. Staff at Colombo’s Taj Samudra or Galle’s Jetwing Lighthouse still speak in awe of the Indian skipper hitting the gym at 5 a.m. while his teammates were still chasing dreams under hotel duvets.

In the Kohli era, there were no shortcuts – just sweat, sacrifice, and steel. And when the captain sets the bar that high, the rest of the team either followed suit or were left behind. It wasn’t just fitness. It was attitude, a mindset. You didn’t just represent India; you fought for every inch, every session, every ball.

At times, Kohli did what the Indian board failed to do. Realising India couldn’t win overseas without firepower, he threw his weight behind fast bowling like no other Indian captain had. He made the bold calls – dropping a proven match-winner like R. Ashwin for a pace-heavy attack. Controversial, yes. But in Kohli’s playbook, sentiment never trumped strategy.

At home, he wasn’t afraid to roll out rank turners. Kohli believed his spinners could run through any opposition and that his batters could tame any spin that came their way. Gone were the belters that served up inflated averages. Kohli chose the harder path, knowing full well it might dent his own stats. But personal milestones were never the endgame – winning was.

He didn’t always play pretty. He played ugly when needed. Picked fights with opponents, needled fans, crossed swords with umpires. He wasn’t the darling of overseas crowds, but he couldn’t care less. For Kohli, it was always team first, reputation later. He didn’t believe in drawing matches – he played for the win.

Here in Colombo, how we wish we had a Kohli of our own. A cricketer willing to forgo comfort, push the envelope and leave nothing to chance. But too often, we sit back and admire Kohli as if what he did was beyond reach. Truth be told, he wasn’t born with Tendulkar’s divine touch or Ponting’s brute gift. Kohli’s mantra was simple: grind till you shine.

It’s disheartening to see our boys fold their arms and listen to him with reverence. Respect is fine – but Test cricket isn’t a prayer meeting. Someone has to ruffle feathers, get under the opposition’s skin. Niroshan Dickwella had the potential to be that livewire but we all know how he lost it.

Sri Lanka doesn’t lack talent; it lacks the Kohli mindset – the refusal to take a backward step, the will to outwork fate, the belief that every match is a final and every session a war. Kohli played like every day was Judgement Day. He changed the grammar of Indian cricket. His numbers may not match the pantheon’s best – but his impact? That’s a whole different ball game.

by Rex Clementine