Let me take you back to 2008, where it all started. I was in my teenage years, growing up in a family that lived, breathed, and ate cricket every single day. When the inaugural IPL arrived, the house was split. Abbu and his side of the family chose CSK (Chennai Super Kings), Ammi Jaan and her side chose MI (Mumbai Indians), some of my siblings chose RR (Rajasthan Royals), and I wasn't liking it one bit because rivalries were supposed to stay the same, not have international players suddenly playing alongside each other in the same team. My favourite player at the time was Shahid Afridi(Lala)- yes, I copied every hairstyle and every shot he played, mimicked his bowling- and Deccan Chargers had my heart because of him. Then Ammaji (Nani) told me something simple: "You're from Bangalore, so support Bangalore." That day she chose RCB, and so did I. To my surprise, she somehow managed to get us tickets for the very first IPL match between KKR and RCB in Bangalore. To this day, I have no idea how she pulled that off. We arrived late- because Bangalore traffic was already doing Bangalore traffic things (yes, as a Bangalorean, I said it)- and watched Brendon McCullum walk in and smash an unbeaten 158. RCB got absolutely battered. Fast forward, RR went on to win the inaugural title with Sohail Tanvir hitting the winning runs, and half my house celebrated while the other half was heartbroken. Then came the tragedy of 26/11, and the decision to exclude Pakistani players from the IPL. It was a shame because some of the finest cricketers in the world at that time suddenly had no place in the tournament. Despite everything, I stayed with RCB. What started as a suggestion from Ammaji slowly became part of who I was.

The years that followed weren't exactly kind. We reached the 2016 final and guess what? We lost the Southern Derby finale to Sunrisers Hyderabad, all while having one of the most entertaining teams the IPL has ever seen, only to fall at the final hurdle. The heartbreak was personal as the final took place in our own backyard(Bangalore), and losing at home was personal. We had some of the most destructive players in world cricket, played unbelievable cricket throughout the season, and still couldn't get the job done. Years passed, we made it to playoffs, suffered painful defeats, and became the punchline of every cricket joke imaginable. The family WhatsApp groups became battlefields. Every season brought fresh memes, fresh trolling, and fresh disappointment. Yet through every collapse, every "Ee Sala Cup Namde" joke, and every season that ended in heartbreak, I stayed, and so did Ammaji. Somewhere along the way, supporting RCB stopped being about trophies and became about loyalty, resilience, and showing up year after year regardless of the outcome.

Then came 2024, and for the first time, the franchise finally tasted glory through the women's team. Smriti Mandhana led RCB Women to the WPL title and changed the entire atmosphere around the franchise. What she achieved went far beyond cricket. She experienced the highest of highs and some of the lowest of lows in front of a billion people. She was praised, criticised, discussed, gossiped about, and scrutinised from every angle, yet she kept showing up. Her swagger, resilience, and refusal to be defined by public opinion made her an inspiration for millions. She set the tone for what was to come. This was Smriti Mandhana's world, and we were simply living in it. Massive respect to her for embodying the never give-up culture and showing an entire generation what perseverance looks like. Somewhere during all of this was another story unfolding- Virushka. Not a toxic relationship between Virat and Anushka, but a toxic relationship between society and the idea of love itself. A lot of people call Kohli "pookie" for being openly loving towards his wife, and every time I hear it I'm like, "Pookie? Are you guys crazy?" Because in my view, that's the most masculine stuff ever. Not shying away from expressing love in front of a billion people and the entire world, without caring about "Log kya kahenge?" or whether people will ridicule and judge you. Bruvvv, that's as alpha as it gets. In desi society, every time a man is loving, caring, affectionate, or simply respectful towards his partner, people often treat him as less of a man for it. They'll call him a slave to his wife and all sorts of nonsense. Apparently, openly loving your wife is emasculating, but letting society dictate how you should live your life and how much you should love your wife is somehow empowering? Don't even get me started on how uncomfortable it makes the elders. Eff it. Relax, guys- he's loving his wife, not the neighbour's wife. In the middle of all this social conditioning stands Virat Kohli, casually making a mockery of outdated standards. I can't speak for every man in the country, but Virat, being the icon that he is, has quietly normalised being affectionate towards your partner for many men in our country. Virushka ko kisi ki nazar na lage.🤲🏽

Back to the boys. 2024 looked finished before it had even started. We had won just one out of our first eight games and were practically written off by fans, experts, and the entire cricketing fraternity. Then came the moment. Cometh the hour, cometh the man- Virat Kohli. He spoke in the dressing room about the 1% chance and what it meant to believe when nobody else did. His message was simple: even if there is only a 1% chance, what matters is what you choose to do with it. Are you willing to give everything you have to turn that 1 into 10, then 10 into 30, and eventually into something magical? Boy, did the boys take that 1% chance seriously. Match by match, belief returned. We showed up day after day, and suddenly something shifted. Against all odds, RCB clawed its way back into the playoffs through a Southern Derby against arch-rivals Chennai Super Kings in Bangalore itself. What a night that was. The fans dared to dream again, and for one night it felt like anything was possible. Then came the inevitable- we lost again. The jokes arrived at the speed of light and the trolling returned in full force. But looking back now, that comeback wasn't a failure. It was the foundation. It planted the belief that miracles are possible when people refuse to stop believing.🥹

Fast forward to June 3rd, 2025. After eighteen long years of heartbreak, jokes, memes, collapses, and near misses, RCB were finally crowned IPL CHAMPIONS. It was a feeling that words still can't properly describe. What an absolute night that was. And then, somehow, the boys did it again on May 31st, 2026. Two titles. Two years. From fingers crossed 🤞🏾 to flashing ✌🏾, the family WhatsApp groups that once laughed the loudest have suddenly become very, very quiet, while I've done my absolute best to remind them of every single trophy celebration possible. I'm pretty sure they don't have hearts strong enough to survive the onslaught after eighteen long years of relentlessly trolling us. But the truth is, it was never just about the trophies. It was about the loyalty, the culture, the brand of cricket, and the impact this franchise has on the lives of its supporters. The celebrations will fade, but the lessons won't. Loyalty, resilience, belief, patience, and standing by something you love even when it gives you every reason not to.

Yes, Bangalore traffic is far worse now than it was when I first travelled to watch that inaugural IPL match, but hey, you can't really complain anymore. We've gone from keeping our fingers crossed 🤞🏾 to flashing ✌🏾 for two titles. We, as RCB fans, have truly come a long way, so did my city, that endured alot and yet somehow flourished in the worst time possible. When my city won the entire nation celebrated and that's the kind of impact my city has.

I won't be dismissive of the fact that, over the years, sports washing by ruling elites has been relentless, but I'm just a fan of the sport, and that's a trade-off I have to live with. Also, regardless of whether you love cricket or hate it, be an RCB fan for just one season - it'll teach you more about life than most things ever will.

That being said... it's not Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday anymore. It's "Ee Sala Nu Cup Namde."

And honestly, I wish Ammaji was still here to see this. I'm pretty sure she'd have mimicked Inzamam-ul-Haq's voice and gone-
"Bismillah-ir-Rahman-ir-Raheem. First of all, thanks to Allah. All the credit goes to the boys."(He was her favourite cricketer.)
I would've probably laughed just as hard as I did back then. 🥲😂
Matter of fact, the first title celebration was apparently so full of Freudentränen that she decided one trophy was enough and dipped on us before the second one arrived.😭
Little did she know she'd forever be 99 not out.
Thank you, Ammaji, for being an absolute gangsta and raising generations of men and women who know how to love, laugh, fight, forgive, show up for family, and stand by the people they care about.
I've absolutely gone bonkers and celebrated your share of it too. 😂

That's my two paisa for the love of the sport, the franchise, and family. 😇

Because after everything, I can say this with absolute certainty:
I did not choose RCB, RCB chose me.

Also, petition to declare any person who supports a team that dons a red jersey regardless of the sport, to be declared as husband/wife material by default.🫢

PS: a few clicks from the magical night!
Funny how today marks exactly one year since we became champions for the very first time, and apparently the boys loved the feeling so much they went ahead and did it twice.😭✌🏾