Rohit Sharma was doing Rohit Sharma things on a balmy December afternoon. He played the swivel pull, the effortlessly lofted six down the ground, and swept the pacers from Sikkim for a good measure, as 'Hitman' lovers in the Pink City got the best present on Christmas Eve.
On a weekday, around 20,000-plus people from the city decided that the best thing to do was to watch the maestro in action — and that too for free. His 37th List A hundred, a 155 off 93 balls, wasn't just about the quality. It was also about the entertainment quotient. It resembled a concert where fans had come to watch their favourite singer belt out one chartbuster after another.
It wasn't about the BCCI diktat, or proving anything to the national selectors, or a head coach who wants to "abolish star culture". The day was all about a hero and his fans, and by the time they left the stadium, 18 fours and nine sixes from the former India skipper had more than satiated their appetite.
By 9 am, all roads led to the Sawai Mansingh Stadium. On the morning of a working day, if 80 per cent of a stadium is full, you can understand why stars are so intrinsic to Indian cricket. People skipped jobs, students bunked college, and Rajasthan Sports Council employees, who had the best view from the balconies of their building, didn't want to be left out either.
The now-familiar chants of "Mumbai chaa Rajaa Rohit Sharma" (Mumbai's King Rohit Sharma) reverberated across the stands as fans caught a glimpse of the star. Once the crowd came to know that Mumbai were fielding, a few thousand left with a prayer on their lips that Sikkim would show enough batting firepower to allow them to watch their hero bat to their heart's content.
Then there were the aggressive Rohit loyalists who started shouting, "Gambhir kidhar hai, dekh raha hai na?" (Gautam Gambhir, where are you, are you watching, right?). It could also well have been directed at national selector R.P. Singh, who was sitting near the boundary line.
Used to adulation for the longest time, the former India captain merely raised his hand to acknowledge his fans. Once news spread that Sikkim had scored a decent 236 for seven, the atmosphere changed. There were no empty seats across three stands, save the one above the dressing room, which was closed for security reasons.
There were also enough people willing to put their bones and joints at risk, sitting precariously on the edge of the terrace atop the Sports Council building. They didn't care if Angkrish Raghuvanshi existed — every dot ball he played was met with boos.
But once Rohit hit his first pick-up swivel pull behind square off Kranthi Kumar, the decibel levels rose. Truth be told, Sikkim's bowlers — Kranthi, Palzor and left-arm spinner Gurinder — were overawed and lacked quality. There were too many half-trackers.
In fact, Rohit went down on one knee and swept seamer Palzor behind square. There were two catches dropped, but who cared? Rohit knew the quality of the attack and his 62-ball century and 91-ball 150 were followed by a fleeting moment of bat-raising.
Finally, Kranthi Kumar's wide delivery found the edge of his bat. It was a tired-looking shot. But there had been enough entertainment on a working day, and fans began to vacate the stands thereafter.
The Hitman carnival was over for the day, but not before another customised Rohit Sharma rhyme echoed across the venue: "Dal Baati Choorma, Rohit Sharma Soorma." The 'Soorma' (master) will have another concert on Friday, and it promises to be another houseful.