The noise did not actually subside throughout the evening. And when the last five overs came round you could sense something out of the ordinary coming–almost as though the crowd saw history first and the scoreboard recognized it afterwards.
The pointers were already loud, out of the press box. Phil Salt swung out, not tenting to feel the way, but throwing himself heartily into the tempo presented. His 46 off 30 did not merely set the pace–it sprang the fielders of CSK into a back-foot position almost at once. Two ill-timed leaps, a slip at the rope. trifles, but they cumulated.
At the other end, Virat Kohli appeared fluent without quite getting free. His 28 was with those sharp hits through the cover, which is generally the foreboding of a larger innings. But when he fell there was no panicking–a moment of silence. Nearly as though the dressing room had anticipated what followed.
On account of which, Devdutt Padikkal, with that silent confidence, was walking in. No acting, it is mere hitting. His 50 out of 29 balls was a controlled anarchy- five fours, two sixes and a rhythm that pushed RCB forward without a flashy thrust. CSK experimented with bowlers, altering angles, slowing it down. nothing much seemed to stick.
And then, the change. You could feel it.
The last three overs were not merely about speed, but a full attack. Rajat Patidar and Tim David never constructed an in-inning, they exploded it. The 48 off 19 by Patidar was in a blur–six sixes that hardly seemed to be projected into the air, before they fell into the stands. Once a CSK fielder simply stood and stood, his hands on hips, and saw one of them fly by.
It was Tim David who made the night surreal.
Strike rate of 280. Seventy off 25. Minority eight sixes, three fours. His bat sounded otherwise–heavier, finer. A single blow that had sunk into the ground straight through had the bowler almost through with his follow-through when the ball was gone. And there was another, over midwicket, which caused the dugout to rise. Players did not simply clap anymore, but laughed in disbelief.
At this time CSK appeared exhausted. Shoulders sank, talk was low, and even the crowd–which was usually screaming all the time–had dropped into that dazed murmur which you only hear when a wonderful thing is happening.
250 on the board.
Not just a big score. Something else.
This was not supposed to happen since they were playing against a team that was a five-time champion, CSK. Not like this. Not this relentlessly.
This has the following implications on CSK and RCB.
This to RCB was not simply a win, but it was almost as though a statement that had been swirling within itself. They have big scores in their 18-year history of IPL, yes. However, when it is done against CSK, and in this manner, it has a different charge.
In the case of CSK, however, the symptoms are more difficult to disregard. Three defeats in a row now, the first win of the season yet to be achieved. The losses, but it is not only the defeats, it is the way they are being made. The bowling was at the end of his tether in the death overs and even the field vitality sank, which you would not think of this side.
At the conclusion, when the players were shaking hands under the lamps, the contrast was obvious. The buzzing of the camp at RCB, nearly playing those last overs over once again in animated conversation. The group of CSK is more in-house. There is still much of a season—all right–but nights like these are here to stay.
And this one. this may remain a little longer.