Kohli’s Cricket, or Cricket’s Kohli?
You hear it all the time in sports circles: “He’s bigger than the game.” It’s usually said with a mix of awe and discomfort. And while it may sound like a compliment, it raises a deeper question—can anyone, no matter how talented, ever be truly bigger than the sport they play?
Some folks think Virat Kohli might just be that guy. He's a cricketing superstar, a walking brand, and a name even people who don’t follow cricket know. But here's the thing—it’s not great for the sport when any player starts to feel bigger than the game itself. Not because they aren’t great, but because the game starts changing in ways it maybe shouldn’t.
Let’s talk about why this matters, how we got here, and what it says about the way we watch, love, and sometimes lose sight of what sport is really about.
The Rise of a Giant
Let’s start with the obvious: Kohli is one of the best batters the game has ever seen. He’s fiery, consistent, and carries a kind of hunger that’s rare even among elites. His stats speak for themselves—thousands of runs, match-winning knocks, and performances under pressure that make jaws drop.
But Kohli's more than just a cricketer. He’s a global figure, a fashion icon, a business face, and arguably, the most visible ambassador of Indian cricket in the modern era. He commands a kind of attention that even captains and cricket boards sometimes don’t.
And it’s not just about how many runs he scores. It’s the way the media hangs onto his every move. Whether he scores or doesn’t, smiles or frowns, gets dropped or rests—it’s headline news. He’s everywhere, and in a weird way, cricket sometimes feels like it’s revolving around him.
The Sport Comes First. Always.
But here’s the hard truth. Nobody—and I mean nobody—is bigger than the game.
Sport is sacred because it belongs to everyone: the players, the fans, the groundskeepers, the kids watching from rooftops. No matter how big a player gets, the game has to come first. Because when it doesn’t, things get lopsided.
When a single player takes up all the air in the room, others suffocate. Young players don’t get the spotlight they deserve. Team dynamics shift. Selection starts to look political. And it can feel like there's one rule for the star and another for everyone else.
Kohli’s attitude—at times brash, hyper-competitive, and let’s be honest, a little self-centric—has rubbed people the wrong way too. Some fans admire the passion. Others feel like it crosses into arrogance. And there’ve been whispers—about politics within the team, decisions made based on influence, not merit. We don’t know the full truth, but the perception exists. And in sport, perception matters.
The Role Model Factor
This is where it gets even more serious. Guys like Kohli aren’t just winning matches—they’re shaping the future of the game. Young fans copy his celebration style, his fitness routines, his attitude, his fashion. And while some of that is great (he really did push the fitness bar for Indian cricket), there’s also a line.
When kids see a star talk back to umpires or slam his bat after a bad call, they think that’s part of being great. When fans turn abusive toward critics just because their favorite player is being questioned, something’s gone wrong. Sportsmanship, humility, respect—those can’t get lost in the stardust.
Whether they like it or not, players like Kohli are ambassadors of the sport. They’re not just representing themselves—they’re shaping what cricket looks like to the next generation.
Let’s Be Fair—There Are Upsides
Of course, it’s not all bad. Stars like Kohli bring people to the game. When he plays, viewership spikes. Sponsors line up. Stadiums fill. Cricket becomes cool again. His energy lifted the team, especially during overseas tours where India historically struggled.
He raised the bar. He pushed fitness. He brought a mental edge that had been missing. And he’s worn his heart on his sleeve, which people love. You could even argue that he made Test cricket exciting again for a generation glued to T20.
So yeah, there are upsides. He’s added value to the sport, no doubt.
But What’s the Cost?
Still, you have to ask—what’s the cost of building the game around one person?
When Kohli went through a rough patch without scoring a century for a while, the media didn’t just cover it—they obsessed over it. Matches became more about "Will Kohli get his 71st hundred today?" than whether India would win. Meanwhile, other players who were performing brilliantly barely got a mention.
That’s what happens when one name becomes bigger than the scorecard. The whole team becomes a backdrop. And the rest of the game starts playing second fiddle to a personal narrative.
It also creates a weird kind of dependency. What happens to cricket’s popularity when Kohli retires? Is the sport strong enough to stand without him? Or have we, without realizing it, put all our eggs in one basket?
A Global Phenomenon
And this isn’t just about Kohli or cricket. It’s happening everywhere.
Michael Jordan once became bigger than the NBA. Some said the Chicago Bulls were just the “Jordan Show.”
Cristiano Ronaldo made headlines even when he wasn’t playing—affecting team selections, club decisions, and even ticket sales.
Serena Williams turned tennis into a personal brand and redefined what it meant to be a female athlete.
All these players were great. But the same debate shows up—when the spotlight becomes too narrow, the rest of the sport dims.
Team Culture vs. Brand Culture
Here’s another way to look at it: team culture vs. brand culture.
Teams are about collective effort, shared goals, mutual respect. Brands are about image, personal success, and market value. When players start to think more like brands than teammates, the game shifts. And not always for the better.
You can see this in the way dressing rooms change. Younger players may feel pressure to fit into the orbit of the star. Leadership becomes tricky. And sometimes, even boards or management seem hesitant to challenge big names, afraid of public backlash or sponsor pressure.
The Game Deserves More Than Just a Face
Look, having icons is important. Every sport needs heroes. But when one player becomes the whole story, you lose the richness of the game. You lose the unsung hero who took a crucial catch. The bowler who broke a partnership. The gritty 35-run knock that didn’t trend on Twitter but won the match.
Sport is a mosaic. It’s beautiful because of its many pieces. And no matter how brightly one tile shines, it shouldn’t blind us to the rest.
Moving Forward
So where does that leave us?
We can admire players like Kohli, celebrate their achievements, even be inspired by their stories. But we have to keep the sport at the center. Cricket doesn’t belong to one man. It never has. It never will.
As fans, we should celebrate great performances, not personalities. As media, we should tell more stories—not just the ones that sell. And as sports lovers, we should always remind ourselves: the game comes first.
Other Perspectives We Might Miss
There’s a lot more we could explore here too:
Legacy and Timing: What happens to a player’s legacy when their persona overshadows their contribution?
Economic Dependency: Is it risky for sponsors and leagues to lean too heavily on one player?
Cultural Shifts: What does this say about our wider culture, where celebrity often outshines community?
These questions matter because sport is more than just a show—it’s a reflection of who we are and what we value.
Final Thoughts
In the end, it’s pretty simple. Players come and go. Records are broken. Styles change. But the spirit of the sport—that thing we all fell in love with as kids—that has to stay sacred.
Kohli’s done incredible things for cricket. But even he, with all his records, reach, and rage, isn’t bigger than the game.
And maybe the best players—the truly legendary ones—are the ones who understand that.