January 2019. Earlier that month, Cheteshwar Pujara had been the toast of the nation, scoring centuries in Adelaide, Melbourne and Sydney as India won a Test series in Australia for the very first time. Now he was the villain of all of Karnataka, or at least the few hundred despondent diehards at the M Chinnaswamy Stadium who watched him seal their team's fate with an unbeaten fourth-innings hundred that steered Saurashtra into the final of the 2018-19 Ranji Trophy.
The bulk of Pujara's innings came against the backdrop of chants from these diehards. "Cheater! Cheater! Cheater!" Once in each innings, he had been reprieved by the umpire when he seemed to have edged behind. Both times, he stood his ground and batted on.
If you watched this match, you may have remembered it when you read Pujara's retirement announcement on Sunday. One word in particular.
"As a little boy from the small town of Rajkot, along with my parents, I set out to aim for the stars; and dreamt to be a part of the Indian cricket team," he wrote on his social media feeds. "Little did I know then that this game would give me so much - invaluable opportunities, experiences, purpose, love, and above all a chance to represent my state and this great nation."
State and nation. Pujara belonged equally to both. He played nearly as many first-class matches for his state team (90) as he did Test matches (103), and more than half his Saurashtra games (58) came after his international debut. And this is before we count white-ball cricket, of which he only had a fleeting international taste. Pujara's father Arvind and uncle Bipin played for Saurashtra too, 43 times between them.
Australia's scourge, Karnataka's cheater. The competitor in Pujara may have enjoyed both roles equally.
In being as much of Saurashtra as of India, Pujara was almost unique for an Indian cricketer of his generation. This, of course, was a matter largely of circumstance. He was a red-ball cricketer of the highest rank, and a red-ball cricketer almost to the exclusion of anything else. The gaps this left in his international schedule allowed him to build a significant body of work in domestic cricket.
And as he did this, he became a reminder of a bygone age when batters dreamed of scoring 100 first-class hundreds. For Geoffrey Boycott, getting to that landmark - in an Ashes Test, no less, and in front of his home crowd - was "the most magical moment of my life".
Pujara, the most Boycottian batter of his age, didn't get quite as far, but he went two-thirds of the way, scoring 66, ten of them during a productive late-career county stint at Sussex. In the span of his career, only one batter, Alastair Cook (68), made more first-class hundreds. It's a momentous achievement, and one, appropriately enough, entirely out of step with the zeitgeist.
But as out of step as he may have seemed, Pujara was a formidable cricketer who at his peak ranked just below the four great Test batters of his age. Quite a peak it was too; at the end of that 2018-19 Australia tour, he averaged 51.18 and had scored 18 hundreds in 68 Tests
His numbers declined in the pandemic and post-pandemic years, but he was hardly alone in suffering that fate, with Virat Kohli and Ajinkya Rahane going through similarly prolonged slumps as India played Test match after Test match, home and away, in treacherous batting conditions.
And all of that, and perhaps the effects of age on his game, have left many of us with a somewhat diminished image of Pujara the batter. In the tributes from team-mates and former players that have flowed since his retirement announcement, the most frequently used word, by far, is "grit", and the most frequently evoked image is of the body blows he took during his 211-ball, fourth-innings 56 in the Gabba fairytale of 2021.
Pujara had plenty of grit, of course, but you need a whole lot more than that to play 103 Test matches. You need those magic, uncoachable qualities that are commonly clubbed together under the banner of talent.
One common definition of batting talent prizes the ability to hit a wide range of attacking shots, with bonus points for hitting good balls and/or in unusual directions. Pujara's gifts didn't lean in this direction, but he nonetheless gave a sense that he was born to bat.
"Every great batsman," CLR James suggested in his chapter on George Headley in Beyond a Boundary, "is a special organism." Whether Pujara was a great batter is a debate for elsewhere, but he was undoubtedly a special organism, a batter who could go on and on and score prodigious quantities of runs. In October 2008, for instance, he scored 386 and 309 for Saurashtra's Under-22s, and in November he followed up with a 302* in the Ranji Trophy.
This appetite for runs was well-known long before Pujara played for India, so while it was remarkable that he scored six hundreds - two of them doubles - in his first 16 Tests, with his average hovering in the 60s, it wasn't that much of a surprise. It takes an uncommonly good eye and technique to be able to score like that, and also the mind of a special organism, capable of an uncommon level of focus. In the first half of his career, Pujara often seemed to bat in a state of trance-like absorption that was palpable to the viewer.
He would start watchfully, even glacially, and you'd wonder if his low, choking grip was inhibiting his power and range of strokes, but if he batted long enough he would flick a switch and start hitting shots to all parts, leaping off his toes to cut the fast bowlers without needing width, sashaying out of his crease to drive spinners inside-out or whip them outside-in.
This way of batting came with a remarkably high ceiling, of course, but also a high floor. He often looked in control even when he wasn't making a lot of runs, as in England in 2014, and by the end of that 2018-19 Australia tour, he had faced at least 50 balls in 73 of his 114 Test innings, and carried on to the 100-ball mark and beyond on 42 occasions.
The limits of Pujara's game only really became evident on extreme pitches, particularly against bowling attacks of uncommon depth, where the proverbial ball with the batter's name on it was always around the corner. India just happened to play a lot of their cricket on those kinds of pitches, against those kinds of attacks, during the second half of his career. Other batters may have tried to bat differently; Pujara's faith in his way never wavered.
And while this meant he stopped scoring hundreds - he only made one in his last 35 Tests - he still made significant contributions to India's results: two half-centuries spanning 381 balls in the 2021 SCG draw, that aforementioned 56 at the Gabba, a 206-ball 45 in a slow-burning, match-turning century stand with Rahane at Lord's in 2021, and a second-innings 61 at The Oval in the same series.
None of this was enough to ward off time, of course, and the surge of batting talent pounding at India's door. But let's put the job Pujara did in perspective. Since his last Test match, the six batters India have tried at No. 3 have collectively averaged 31.95 across 24 Tests. A fading Pujara, over his last 24 Tests, averaged 31.51.
The end came with a second defeat in a second World Test Championship final in 2023, but it wasn't really the end. The Pujara of Saurashtra, Sussex and West Zone would score a further 2057 first-class runs, at an average of 51.42, with seven hundreds. A fitting finish, on Pujara's own terms, leaving you wondering if he couldn't have gone on just a little longer.