India, March 18 -- Picture him walking in at No. 3, behind the imaginary opening pair of Rohit Sharma and Chris Gayle, two of the most destructive white-ball batters of all time. Okay, scratch that - not walking in, but striding so. Strutting, with a swag all of his own. As if he owned the place, as if all the others were mere serfs out there to do his bidding. The bat an extension of his muscular, strong, powerful arms. The cap in place, rakishly (what's that you say about a helmet?). Chewing gum furiously, as if wondering 'What the heck is it doing inside of my mouth?' when he is one who actually put it there.

Picture him taking guard, settling into his stance after a casual look to spot where the gaps were (not the fielders, never the...