Location: St. Ann's High School Ground.
The sun was brutal. It was that specific post-lunch Hyderabad heat that made the red soil look bleached and dusty.
Fifty kids were standing in a semi-circle.
It looked like a sea of white. Most of the boys were wearing crisp white t-shirts and track pants. They had professional kit bags—big, rectangular "coffins" with wheels, branded with SG, SS, or Reebok. They looked like mini-cricketers.
And then there was Sai.
He was wearing his school PT uniform—a slightly oversized white t-shirt tucked into navy blue shorts. He was holding his father's faded blue "Aristocrat" travel bag in one hand and his unbranded Kashmir Willow bat in the other.
"Chudu ra, travel bag tecchadu," someone whispered behind him. (Look man, he brought a travel bag.)
"Ooru nunchi vacchinattu unnadu," another kid giggled. (Looks like he just arrived from the village.)
Sai ignored them. He gripped the handle of his bag tighter.
Let them laugh, he thought, scanning the competition. Half of you are here because your dad bought you a Rs. 5000 bat. I'm here because I have a PhD in batting technique inside my nervous system.
Gopal Sir walked into the center. He was wearing a hat and sunglasses, looking like a drill sergeant. He blew his whistle.
Pweeeet!
"Line up! Height-wise! Tallest to shortest!"
The chaos ensued. Sai silently walked to the end of the line. He was one of the shortest.
"Listen!" Gopal Sir bellowed. "I don't care who your father is. I don't care how expensive your bat is. I want Basics. If you cross-bat slog, get out. If you drop a catch, get out. Understood?"
"YES SIR!" fifty voices screamed.
Phase 1: The Filtering (Fielding)
"Fielding first!" Gopal Sir yelled. "Run to the boundary and throw!"
This was the first filter. It weeded out the lazy ones.
Sai watched the tall kids go first. Some had strong arms but threw wildly, the ball sailing over the wicketkeeper's head.
Power without control, Sai noted.
Then it was the turn of Aditya, a tall, well-built boy from 6th class. He had the best gear—a brand new helmet and arm guard. Aditya ran, picked up the ball one-handed (show off), and rifled a throw. It was fast, but it bounced three times before reaching the stumps.
"Good arm," Gopal Sir noted on his clipboard.
"Sai Krishna! Next!"
Sai stepped up. He ran towards the ball.
[DISSONANCE]
Speed Alert: Stride length too short.
He couldn't run fast. His legs were tiny. He reached the ball slower than Aditya.
But the moment he reached it, the System took over.
Bend knees. Two hands. Align hips.
[CLICK]
Sai swooped down. He didn't bend his back (which causes injury); he squatted. He picked up the ball cleanly with two hands, pivoted on his right foot, and threw.
He didn't try to throw it hard. He threw it high.
The ball followed a perfect rainbow arc.
Parabolic Trajectory.
It landed right into the wicketkeeper's gloves, just above the stumps. No bounce.
Gopal Sir didn't say "Good." He just looked at Sai over his sunglasses. He made a small tick mark.
Phase 2: The Nets (Batting)
By 4:30 PM, twenty kids had been sent home. Thirty remained.
"Pads on!" Gopal Sir ordered.
This was a problem. Sai didn't have pads.
He looked around. Karthik had been eliminated in the fielding round (he dropped two catches), so Sai was alone.
He saw a pile of "School Property" pads lying in the mud—old, torn, with straps missing.
Sai grabbed a pair. They were huge. When he strapped them on, they came up to his thighs. He looked ridiculous, like a child wearing his father's armor.
"Next! Aditya!"
Aditya walked in. He looked like a pro.
The bowler was Varun (the 9th class captain). He was bowling fast.
Wham!
Aditya smashed the first ball. A lofted shot over mid-on.
"Shot ra!" the other kids cheered.
Wham!
Another slog. Inside edge. The ball missed the stumps by an inch.
Gopal Sir frowned. "Keep it on the ground, hero! This is not T20!"
Aditya ignored him. He tried to pull a short ball. He missed.
"Okay, next! The small boy!"
Sai took a deep breath. He tightened his oversized gloves. He walked into the net.
The concrete pitch looked hard. The red ball looked menacing.
Varun, the bowler, looked bored. He probably thought, 'I'll just bowl a fast yorker and crush this kid's toe.'
Sai took his guard. "Middle stump, please."
He marked the line. He tapped the bat.
Stance.
[DISSONANCE]
Feet too narrow.
Sai widened his feet slightly.
[CLICK]
Perfect base.
He looked up. Varun was running in.
Ball 1:
Varun bowled a fast length ball outside off stump. He wanted Sai to fish for it.
A normal 10-year-old would have tried to touch it.
Sai watched the seam. It's swinging away.
He didn't move his bat. He lifted it high, pulling it inside the line. A textbook "Leave."
Thud. The ball hit the keeper's gloves.
Gopal Sir raised an eyebrow.
Ball 2:
Varun was annoyed. He bowled faster, aiming for the stumps. A full ball.
Sai leaned forward.
[CLICK]
Defensive push. Straight bat. The ball hit the middle and rolled back to the bowler.
"Oye, hit it!" someone shouted from the back. "Boring!"
Ball 3:
Varun grunted. He banged the ball in short. A bouncer (for a 10-year-old).
The ball rose sharply towards Sai's face.
Panic flared in Sai's chest. The 20-year-old brain screamed HOOK IT!
But the System screamed louder.
[DISSONANCE] [DISSONANCE]
Warning: insufficient strength. Reaction time slow.
If he tried to hook, he would get hit in the teeth.
Sai dropped his knees instantly. He swayed his head out of the way.
The ball whizzed past his left ear. Whoosh.
He stood up calmly. He tapped the pitch.
Gopal Sir stopped chewing his gum. A 10-year-old swaying out of a bouncer? That wasn't coached. That was instinct.
Ball 4:
Varun was panting now. He had one ball left. He wanted to embarrass the kid.
He bowled a half-volley on the legs. A "gift" ball.
Here we go, Sai thought.
He didn't slog.
He used the pace of the ball.
He rotated his wrists.
[RESONANCE]
A pure, high-pitched CRACK echoed in the nets.
Sai flicked the ball off his pads. It wasn't a violent hit. It was a caress.
The ball raced along the ground, accelerating as it went, slamming into the side netting with force.
The On-Drive. The hardest shot in cricket.
There was silence in the queue.
Aditya's mouth was slightly open.
Sai picked up his bat. He didn't celebrate. He just looked at the bowler.
"Thank you, Anna," Sai said politely.
He walked out of the net, dragging his oversized pads.
Gopal Sir didn't look at him. He was busy writing something on his clipboard. He circled a name and wrote a comment next to it.
Sai peeked as he walked past to remove his pads.
He couldn't read the name, but he saw the comment in bold letters.
"Temperament."
Sai smiled, wiping the sweat and dust from his face.
He went back to his blue travel bag.
Job done.