Chapter 20: SVS v/s SLS [2]
The ten-minute change-over was the quietest the The ten minutes change-over was the silence Raghav had never known. His team walked out of the field, the paltry 96 runs weighing upon them like death penalty.
They were sitting in the dusty grass, and did not make eye-contact, and the silence of their own dugout was a sharp contrast to the loud and confident laughter of the St. Louis School Cricket club.
His still-pale face still flushed with his dismissal on his first ball, Vikram threw his gloves on his kit bag.
"It's over. That Thomas... he's not a boy. He's a machine."
"He's right," muttered Suraj, the #3 batsman, who had also been dismissed by Thomas. "We scored 96. They'll get that in ten overs. What's the point?".
Raghav sat quietly, his hands throbbing and the pain from facing Thomas's 50 km/h bowling was a deep, bone-rattling ache. His 29 not-out felt hollow. It wasn't a score; it was just the number of times he'd survived.
"So that's it?"
Coach Sarma's voice cut through the despair. It wasn't loud, but it was sharp as glass. The team looked up.
"You're giving up? Because a rich kid in a fancy uniform can bowl fast?"
He paced in front of them, his eyes scanning each boy.
"I'll be honest with you. 96 is a terrible score. On paper, we have a ten percent chance. Maybe five. We cannot win this match if they play proper, disciplined cricket."
He stopped and crouched, grabbing a handful of dust..
"But they won't."
He let the dust sift through his fingers. "Look at them."
He nodded towards the SLS openers, who were laughing with their teammates, not even properly padded up. "They are arrogant. They think this match is already over. They think you are a joke. An arrogant batsman hates to be told 'no.' He will try to hit his way out. He will be reckless. He will give you one chance. Maybe two."
Sarma's gaze became iron.
"Our only path to victory is to take that chance. No dropped catches. No misfields. Not a single one. Every ball, you field as if your life depends on it. You will dive for everything. You will back up every throw. You will make them bleed for every single one of these 97 runs."
He stood up and began assigning positions.
"Gourav. You're our fastest. You saw Thomas. You saw what real pace looks like. I want you to bowl faster than you have ever bowled in your life. Forget about line, forget about length. I want you to hurt them. I want you to scare them....Attack."
Gourav, who had been staring at the ground, looked up, a flicker of competitive fire in his eyes.
"Vikram, Cover. Rohan, Mid-Off. I want my best fielders to save the singles."
Then, he looked at Raghav. "Roi."
Raghav stood up.
"You're in the Gully position."
A few of the seniors looked up, surprised. The Gully was a specialist's position. It was for catches that came off the edge, catches that were fast, hard, and often unexpected. It was a position for the quick and the brave.
It was not a position for a 12-year-old with famously weak fielding.
Raghav's heart hammered. His Fielding: 8 was a joke. He was being put in the line of fire.
'He's sacrificing me,' a part of his mind thought.
But his 42-year-old self knew better. 'No. He knows my knowledge. I know my reaction time is my only asset. He's not putting me there to stop runs. He's putting me there to take that one chance.'
Raghav thought of his incomplete fielding quest.
The hundreds of catches he'd taken in practice over the last week. His hands, still raw and aching, suddenly felt a little more ready.
"Yes, Coach," Raghav said, his voice steady.
The SLS openers, Captain Ajay and another confident-looking boy, walked out, laughing and joking with each other. They needed 97. They looked like they were out for a light jog.
Raghav's team took the field. The atmosphere was grim. They were going through the motions, a team marching to its execution.
Gourav stood at the top of his run-up, the new ball in his hand. He looked at Ajay, who was casually taking his stance, smirking. Gourav was nervous. His hands were sweating.
The umpire called "Play."
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Over 1 (Bowler: Gourav. Batsman: Ajay)
[ Ball 1.1 ]Gourav, full of nervous energy, ran in too fast. He tried to bowl like Thomas and lost his line. It was a fast Full Length ball, but way down the leg side. A Wide. The match began with an extra.
Score: 1/0.
[Ball 1.1 ](Redelivered): Gourav, rattled, bowled again. A simple Good Length ball. Ajay, with disdain, just blocked it.
[Ball 1.2 ]Gourav, angry at himself, dug this one in Short. Ajay saw it early, rocked back, and smashed a Pull Shot in front of square. The ball rocketed to the boundary. Four.
Score: 5/0.
[Ball 1.3 ] Another Good Length ball. Ajay, his arrogance now through the roof, played a booming, flashy Cover Drive. He didn't time it perfectly. The ball went in the air, but safely over Vikram's head at Cover. They ran two.
Score: 7/0.
It was exactly what Coach Sarma had predicted. Reckless. Arrogant.
[Ball 1.4 ] Gourav was breathing heavily, his confidence shattering. He bowled another Full Length ball. Ajay defended it.
[Ball 1.5] Gourav, trying to find his rhythm, bowled a faster ball, angling in. It hit Ajay's pad.
"How's that!" Gourav screamed, more in desperation than hope. The umpire shook his head.
[Ball 1.6 ] A simple defensive block.
End of Over. [Score: 7/0].
Seven runs from the first over. The SLS team was already clapping. It felt like the match was slipping away.
"It's okay, Gourav! Good pace!" Raghav yelled from the Gully, but his voice was thin.
Coach Sarma made a decision. He signaled to the umpire.
He was changing the bowling. He was bringing on Prakash, the team's off-spinner.
It was a brilliant tactical move. After facing Gourav's pace, the batsman would have to adjust.
Over 2 (Bowler: Prakash. Batsman: Opener #2)
The other opener, just as arrogant, was on strike. He saw the spinner and his eyes lit up. He clearly intended to end this match himself.
[Ball 2.1 ] Prakash tossed up a lovely, flighted Off-Break. It looped in the air, inviting the big shot.
The batsman's eyes went wide. He charged down the pitch, his feet a clumsy mess, aiming a wild Slog over Long-On. This was the arrogance Sarma had talked about.
He swung for the fences... and completely mis-timed it.
The ball hit the bottom of the bat, skying high into the air. It was a simple, towering catch.
Rohan, at Mid-Off, settled under it. The entire team held its breath. The ball came down... down...
WICKET!
Rohan caught it!.
Score: 7/1!
A stunned silence fell over the SLS dugout. A wild, desperate roar erupted from Raghav's team. It was a chance. It was a spark. The third batsman walked in, his face suddenly not so confident. He had seen his teammate throw his wicket away.
The #3 batsman safely played out the rest of the over.
Over 3 (Bowler: Gourav. Batsman: Ajay)
Gourav got the ball back. He was no longer nervous. He was furious. It had been a wicket that shocked him. He had now bowling pace, which adrenaline had given him. Ajay was back on strike.
[Ball 3.1 ]Gourav steamed in. A fast Good Length ball, just outside off-stump. Ajay, more cautious, played and missed.
[Ball 3.2 ] Gourav ran in again, his action powerful. He delivered another fast ball, same line, same length. It was a classic fast bowler's setup. The batsman, forced to play, had to poke at it.
SNICK!
A thick, fast outside edge.
Time stopped for Raghav.
It was coming to him. At Gully. And it was coming fast. Not a gentle lob. A rocket.
This wasn't a practice drill. This was real. His Fielding: 8 stat screamed impossible but he try to calculated the trajectory of the ball .
The hundreds of catches he'd taken in practice, his mind still fresh with the memory of his incomplete quest, had built a microsecond of pure muscle memory.
He didn't think so. He reacted.
He threw himself into a full-length, horizontal dive to his right. His body was parallel to the ground, his arm stretched out.
His right hand, still raw and aching from days of thankless practice, was his only hope.
SMACK!
The hard leather ball slammed into his palm with a sickening, painful thud. The impact was so hard it nearly ripped his hand from his wrist.
He crashed to the ground, his elbow and shoulder scraping hard against the unforgiving pitch. Pain, white-hot and blinding, shot up his arm.
But he held on.
He landed, rolling once, and instinctively brought his hand up, the ball held triumphantly in his grip.
For a second, the world was silent.
Then, an explosion.
WICKET!
His entire team, the coach on the boundary, the spectators, were in stunned disbelief before erupting.
"HE CAUGHT IT!" Vikram screamed from Cover, his own failure forgotten.
Gourav, his eyes wide with pure adoration, ran over and pulled Raghav up, hugging him so hard he lifted him off his feet.
"WHAT A CATCH, KID! WHAT A CATCH!"
Score: 10/2!
Raghav, his hand throbbing so badly he was sure it was broken, just smiled, his heart pounding with adrenaline.
In the SLS dugout, Thomas, who was padded up to come in at #4, slowly stood up, a look of pure shock on his face.
Raghav got back into his position, the pain in his hand a dull, roaring fire.
'97 runs,' he thought, the number no longer seeming so small. 'Maybe... just maybe...'
The momentum had shifted because those so called Juggernaut were in tensed situation.
(To be Continued)