It is said that some things are worth waiting for. For Royal Challengers Bengaluru, the wait has been long — an odyssey of nearly two decades, of promise and frustration, of stardom and schisms, culminating finally in fulfilment. On Wednesday, the city, taut with anticipation, will gather to mark that long pursuit of glory — not with a roar, but with a collective sigh of deliverance.
There is to be a procession, of course — not the thunderous cavalry charge of a conquering army, but a slow, open-top glide through the heart of the city: two kilometres from the stately Vidhana Soudha to the old cricketing amphitheatre of the M Chinnaswamy. A symbolic return — heroes to the polis, laurels in tow.
Royal Challengers Bengaluru Extends Their Celebration At Bengaluru
But already, by mid-morning, the quiet murmur of celebration had turned to a din. At Kempegowda International Airport, crowds formed early, though logistics prevailed over sentiment. A change of plan rerouted the returning victors to the more central HAL Airport — less symbolic, more strategic. Thereafter, a courtesy call at the chief minister’s office, and then on to the stadium, where the day’s emotions are to find their crescendo.
The Karnataka State Cricket Association, custodian of the ground and conscience of its people, is opening its doors. They speak modestly of ten thousand spectators. The actual figure will be higher, inevitably, organically. These fans, after all, have invested more than mere interest. They have given patience, poured hope, endured jibes.
Police, working in tandem with city authorities, urge restraint and pragmatism. Public transport is preferred, traffic is warned, and schedules are adjusted. Between 3 and 8pm, the central business district will all but cede control to its red-and-gold faithful.
And at the heart of it all: Virat Kohli. The constant in a changing cast, the axis around whom RCB has turned — sometimes gracefully, often giddily. His hair a little flecked, his bat perhaps a little heavier now, but his voice still crackling with passion. “This,” he told the team’s own media organ, “is different. This is mine.”
One suspects he is right. This title, more than any, is about identity. Kohli’s name is etched not just in the record books, but in the consciousness of this franchise. His is a tenure measured not in seasons, but in epochs.
If the rumours are true, two of his kindred spirits — AB de Villiers and Chris Gayle — will join the revelry. It would be fitting. Not for ceremonial completeness, but to remind us that RCB’s story has always been about more than cricket: it is about a culture, at once combustible and compelling, a team that often lost spectacularly but rarely anonymously.
Now, finally, they win. And in Bengaluru, they will be welcomed not just as champions, but as prodigals whose return was always fated — only deferred.
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