The Chennai man in the middle of the RCB dressing room had everyone’s attention. As a broadcaster and a retired professional cricket player, Dinesh Karthik was straddling two worlds as he delivered a moving post-match speech. “We gave our fans a delight to witness, and we all know how proud they are of our franchise. You must also recognise the seriousness of this game.
Karthik was speaking at the end of an IPL 2024 match that cut through the mist of fours and sixes. Even though it was far past midnight, there was a spontaneous, full-fledged after-party going on outside the Queens, Cubbon, and MG Road roadways that surrounded the M. Chinnaswamy Stadium in Bengaluru. What started out as joking and a celebration of the RCB’s season’s remarkable comeback gradually turned into a public annoyance. The local police swiftly intervened to restore order as a group of fans scaled one of the fire engines close to the stadium in order to raise an RCB flag well after midnight.
“What are you even celebrating?” “Tell us, how many IPL titles you have again?” “Can’t wait to welcome RCB to Chennai…” and other forms of policing took over the internet a short distance away, amid the bountiful exchange of hate.
The Chinnaswamy match on May 18, 2024, might have been the turning point that made CSK vs. RCB more than just a marketing gimmick as the IPL matures. For the first time in a long time, RCB, CSK, and their respective supporters came into that match at a fork in the road that only one could cross. The fans could not stand it when they began to identify with each other because they were in charge of the other’s destiny.
How did it get to this stage, then?
It’s interesting to note that in the first-ever knockout match between these two teams, RCB defeated CSK in 2009. However, any idea of a rivalry was consistently crushed by the subsequent Chennai teams’ overall superiority. A Qualifier 1 and Final in 2011 and a Qualifier 2 in 2015 were among the notable matches that CSK won. Moments and emotions from this match, however, persisted over the haze of IPL matches.
When RP Singh had Ravindra Jadeja caught at third man in 2013, with two needed off the penultimate ball, it appeared that RCB had won, but the bowler foot-failed, giving CSK a no-ball and the victory. In under three seconds, the cameras turned to Virat Kohli, whose countenance shifted between happiness, devastation, and apprehensive expectancy.
When RCB needed to defend 43 off 12, Kohli was at the core of yet another sorrow a year earlier when he gave up 28 runs to Albie Morkel in a single over. MS Dhoni memorably ruined RCB’s celebration in 2018 by hitting a scorching 70* off 34 and finished with a traditional six. However, he failed to reach 26 in the last over a year later.
It was almost always RCB who attempted to break through the massive CSK bubble and were left to pick up the debris.
By all measures, this rivalry shouldn’t exist: no titles, no away victories in Chepauk since 2008, and a lopsided 21-11 head-to-head record in favour of CSK. Punjab Kings and CSK will play a closer match at 16–14. With both teams matched for five titles, their matches against the Mumbai Indians are also played on more equal terms. However, sports rivalries aren’t solely based on statistics.
Geographies, histories, and identities shape them. With sizable Tamil populations in Karnataka and vice versa, the two teams’ home states of Tamil Nadu and Karnataka have close cultural and economic relations. However, there are always simmering tensions beneath the surface, stemming from linguistic politics and, most notoriously, the long-running conflict over the Kaveri river.
At the level of the Ranji Trophy, these political undercurrents have emerged. Venkatesh Prasad, a former fast bowler for India, remembers a famous match in which spectators threw plastic chairs onto the pitch in rage after Karnataka was defeated at home by a Tamil Nadu team led by Krishnamachari Srikkanth. Prasad compared the match between RCB and CSK last season to its Ranji Trophy counterpart. Given that players aren’t assigned to teams based on where they live and that the IPL functions in a temporary, corporate setting, the parallel appeared odd. In actuality, their unwillingness to field local players is a widespread complaint among supporters of both teams.
Although politics and history offer some context, branding and identity have had an equal influence on the current IPL rivalry. Founded differently from the top down, CSK and RCB were more than just two teams—they were two ways of being. CSK portrayed themselves as a massy, local, and earthy team that matched the modest demeanour of its owner. With its elite players, RCB seemed to be a team that was created in the opulent UB Towers on Lavelle Road in the centre of Bengaluru’s central business district, and it was somewhat cut off from the city’s broader identity.
It’s interesting to note that, just two months prior to that match against CSK, RCB made a small move to establish a more regional identity by switching the team name from Bangalore to Bengaluru, which is more colloquial, and convincing Kohli to refer to it as a “hosa adhyaya”—a new chapter. Two of the most well-liked Indian cricket players of the twenty-first century, Kohli and Dhoni, were at the forefront of the two teams for the longest period of time. They both embodied and shaped the very character of the teams they captained.
This well designed logo was not limited to the teams. Sport rivalries serve a deeper, almost narcissistic need for identity in addition to being a means of competition. In addition to defining themselves by their identities, fans also define themselves by their identities. RCB supporters respond by reminding CSK of their two-year suspension for their ownership’s role in the spot-fixing scam, while CSK supporters make fun of RCB for their previous owner Vijay Mallya’s fugitive status.
What about the players themselves, though, given how ingrained the rivalry is among the supporters? Does it have the same significance in the changing rooms? The commotion from outside makes them aware of it, no doubt. During a recent event in Mysuru, CSK captain Ruturaj Gaikwad made a joke about an RCB fan perhaps being the source of his microphone problem.
Active players rarely feel any genuine resentment, even though they may be more driven for the match since they are aware that the IPL’s short three-year cycles and auction dynamics could push them to either side of the red-yellow line. The IPL is still a two-month race, in contrast to leagues in other sports that have developed rivalries across decades. However, these franchise allegiances and the competition itself may get stronger as international cricket loses importance, particularly in the eyes of the next generation.
In the past, Kohli, who is a major factor in these competitions due to his performances as much as his on-field antics, has opposed the notion of creating rivalries. He had remarked, “I don’t think it makes any sense,” warning against encouraging a culture akin to a club. “It’s very important to treat it as a league that happens for two months and not going into the club culture because in turn you want the fans to be united again when people are playing for their country, that’s how I see it.”
Just as Dhoni’s bat punch and quick departure prior to the post-match handshakes were more a reflection of his love for the game and CSK than a reaction to who or where he was playing, it can be said with some degree of confidence that his raucous celebrations at the conclusion of the Chinnaswamy game last year had little to do with the opposition.
At the age of 18, the league is mature enough for players with significant IPL playing experience to have retired and transitioned into broadcasting, bringing their personal preferences and allegiances with them. Their presence has given recent games between the teams a new edge, as has the growth of regional-language commentary and the changing function of punditry. Coverage has changed from a default stance of neutrality to one of overt devotion as a result of broadcasters’ growing need for former players who can express the feelings of a club’s fan base.
For example, former cricket players openly cater to CSK fans on Star Sports Tamil, occasionally even making fun of RCB. It’s an intriguing strategy, particularly in a time when fan-generated content is widely available online. Television seems to be mimicking the memes rather than providing a counter to them, possibly in an effort to capture fleeting viral moments. Furthermore, even if these segments certainly increase engagement, a large portion of it is caused by fans sharing footage to vent their annoyance or to incite opposing supporters.
Of course, there’s a good case to be made that a competition fostered by social media silliness rather than cruelty is the perfect fit for the present era. Why would you want deeper and more powerful undercurrents to underpin your sports drama? This has been characterised for years by CSK’s supremacy and RCB’s desire to alter the perception.
However, something might have changed on May 18, 2024. It provided RCB with a unique moment of victory, which they clung to with unbridled happiness. It was celebrated as if it meant more than just two points; it was catharsis, a release from years of frustration, and more than simply a league-stage victory.
And perhaps it did signify more for the first time in the history of this match. Because maths isn’t the only factor in a rivalry. Moments are also important. And during those four hours last season, a lot of things were closed up. Was the balance really shifted by RCB at Chinnaswamy that evening? Or was it just another little pause in a rivalry that might finally be serious after all these years?
This competition has begun to transcend the field, influencing discussions, igniting arguments on social media, and even influencing pop culture. The main character in Dragon, Tamil cinema’s biggest blockbuster of the year, is a devoted RCB fan in Chennai, and his fiancée, a CSK supporter, is attracted to his steadfast devotion. Perhaps this battle has always been about the urge to think everything matters a bit more than it actually does, rather than about stakes or balance.
India
