God of Cricket!-Chapter 10: Imminent

Chapter 10: Imminent

"Wow, you can see that the boy in the Number 21 jersey is batting on a different level," someone in the crowd said, pointing towards the pitch where Aryan was taking his stance.

"Yeah, you can see that the match has turned in favor of the Mumbai Youth Academy after he walked in," another added, nodding in agreement as the momentum shifted palpably.

"Who is he by the way?" another spectator commented, squinting at the scoreboard which simply listed ’A. Sharma’. Priya, who heard all this from her seat nearby, wanted to scream to all of them that the boy was her son, but she kept control of herself, clutching her handbag tightly to suppress her excitement.

Riya, who most of the time seemed uninterested in whatever Aryan was doing, seemed to be really having fun, cheering with the crowd and clapping along with the rhythm of the dhols. She, however, didn’t keep quiet. "Hey, that’s my brother," she said to one of the girls standing around her, pointing proudly at the pitch.

"Really? He looks handsome under that helmet," a girl commented, eyeing the batsman. "Of course he is. He’s my brother after all," Riya said once again, flipping her hair back before the screams of the crowd brought her attention to the game again. This was because Aryan was on strike, tapping his bat on the crease.

Over 16.3

’Aryan, who has been receiving a lot of love and cheers after he came to the crease, once again takes the strike. He pushes the ball to the covers for a quick single, giving the strike to Joseph Adeyemi, who takes a touch—I mean, rotates the strike—returning the strike to Aryan on the next ball.

Aryan takes the guard, looking to drive forward, trying to go on one of those aggressive onslaughts he’s been doing ever since he came on. The bowler runs in. Aryan dances down the track! He beats the fielder at mid-off with a set of fast-paced footwork—a shimmy and a loft!

The ball is still traveling, driving through the heart of the defense of the Rizvi team—I mean, splitting the gap between long-off and cover. Aryan slows down, gauging if it will reach the rope. He watches the ball nudge the cushions before—Oooooooo! What a beautiful boundary by Aryan!’

{Scenes on the pitch}

Coach Deshmukh moved a bit forward on the boundary rope after Aryan stepped out to the spinner. Before he could even shout instructions to stay grounded, Aryan had smashed the ball into the advertisement boards from outside the crease with pure disdain.

Coach Deshmukh raised his hand in celebration. He was really having it hard since the start of the match, dealing with injuries and poor bowling, but his worries seemed to have decreased ever since Aryan stepped onto the pitch.

"That kid is really a gem," Coach Deshmukh thought, shaking his head in disbelief. Aryan, who had just hit the four, looked towards the part of the stands where his mother and sister were sitting and raised his bat slightly as a celebration.

Priya finally couldn’t hold it in any longer. "That’s my son!" she said loudly, while pointing to Aryan, her voice cracking with emotion.

"You have a wonderful son, ma’am," a person nearby said, smiling at the proud mother.

"I know, I know," Priya replied with tears in her eyes, watching Aryan adjust his gloves.

Over 17.1

The umpire signaled the start of the new over.

’What a youth match this is. It’s Rizvi 190, Mumbai Youth 178. 13 runs needed off the last 18 balls—wait, the equation has changed. It’s getting close,’ the commentator said, his voice rising in excitement.

The match continued for a while, but this time the Rizvi team coach decided to "park the bus"—or in cricketing terms, bowl negative lines. His captain brought all the fielders to the boundary and instructed the bowlers to bowl wide yorkers outside off-stump to prevent boundaries and force dot balls.

"Seems like he wants to settle for a dot-ball squeeze to choke us out," Coach Deshmukh said, frowning as he observed the field change.

The Mumbai team kept attacking and almost came close to scoring a number of times, but it seemed that luck was not on their side as the ball sometimes missed the bat by mere centimeters or found the fielder straight in the hands for a single, preventing the big hits they desperately needed.

[COMMENTATOR]

’The Mumbai players are giving it their all with shots and hard running between wickets coming from left, right, and center, but neither finding the gap for a boundary. If a match-winner is going to be played, it’s got to be now,’ said the commentator, sensing the tension.

Just as he said that, Joseph Adeyemi (the non-striker) faced a delivery. The bowler, under immense pressure, slipped in his delivery stride. The ball flew high—a dangerous beamer right at Joseph’s head!

The umpire quickly called for a No-Ball before walking up to show a warning card to the offender for dangerous bowling.

It was a No-Ball. Free Hit next ball.

Joseph picked himself up, shaken but okay. He prepared to take the Free Hit but suddenly stopped as he saw the coach waving frantically from the boundary dugout.

"Get Aryan on strike!" he heard Deshmukh screaming over the crowd noise.

Joseph, although not happy about giving up the glory of the winning shot, knew from the net sessions that Aryan was a better power-hitter than him, and he also knew the importance of the match.

The batsmen had crossed for a single during the No-Ball delivery while the ball trickled to fine leg. So, Aryan was now at the striker’s end for the Free Hit.

Aryan, who was a bit surprised because he hadn’t heard what the coach said amidst the noise, looked at Joseph as they tapped gloves mid-pitch.

"Coach said you take it," Joseph said, looking him in the eye. "Smash it."

"Oh," was all Aryan could say, gripping his bat handle tighter.

He walked up to the crease, marking his guard again, scratching the turf with his spikes. Aryan took a deep breath, visualizing the shot.

He breathed in, and everything went silent. The crowd noise faded into a dull hum in the background.

Aryan tapped his bat. The bowler, looking terrified, ran up to bowl the Free Hit.

Aryan watched the ball closely. It was a slower ball, attempting to deceive him, but it floated right into the slot. Aryan raised his bat—backlift high—before whipping the ball over the long-on boundary with ferocious bat speed.

The ball seemed to go high into the night sky, spinning like crazy before homing into the stands, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

{Commentator POV}

’The No. 8 Joseph seemed to be the one who was going to face the Free Hit, but they crossed! It is today’s star man, Aryan Sharma, on strike. Is he also good at power-hitting too?

Wow, if he’s good at that too, he will be a complete package of a player for the Mumbai Cricket Association as a whole. He takes his stance. Aryan waiting... he hits!!!

’Sixxxxxxxx!’ ’Maravilloso’—I mean, Magnificent! Oh wow. What a player. Mumbai Youth seems to have hit the jackpot with this one. What a talent!’

Aryan ran once again, but this time to the dugout area before jumping and hugging Coach Deshmukh, almost knocking the older man over.

"Thank you, Coach," Aryan said, his voice muffled by the coach’s shoulder. Those three words really resonated with Coach Deshmukh, who thought, "This kid, it’s gonna be uphill from here for you."

Mr. Patil, the scout who had been told to keep tabs on Aryan and report about his matches, took his phone before dialing the number of the Head Coach of the State U19 team.

"He’s really good. He started as an Impact Player but came on and scored a match-winning innings and stabilized the chase," he said after the call connected, his eyes still fixed on the celebrating boy.

"Tell Deshmukh to promote him before our next camp since the injury of our main all-rounder seems to be long-term and we are lacking replacements," the Head Coach said swiftly before ending the call.

Mr. Patil walked out of the stadium after the call, making a note in his diary.

Fwee, fwee, fweeeeeee.

The umpire removed the bails, signaling the end of the match. Mumbai won by 4 wickets with balls to spare.

The players went around clapping and shaking the hands of the Rizvi players, adhering to the spirit of the game.

"You won today," said Alfo, the coach of the Rizvi team, looking defeated. "Guess I did," Coach Deshmukh said while grinning, trying not to look too smug.

"You have a hell of a player," he said while looking at Aryan, who was talking with Jeet and Arjun near the pitch.

"I know," Coach Deshmukh replied before walking off towards the dressing room.

The players entered the dressing room and took their showers before Deshmukh came in, clapping his hands for attention.

"You guys played shitty today in the first innings. Well, you did well during the chase and also the last overs, so I’ll spare you the harsh talk since we won, but never let this happen again. Always start the match like it’s your last. You get me?" he said sternly, before the players replied with a barrage of "Yes Coach."

He looked at Aryan and smiled before remembering what Mr. Patil had said after the match, which made him frown a bit, realizing he would lose his best asset soon.

"Well, I can’t clip his wings, can I?" he thought with a smirk, resigning himself to the reality of development cricket.

"Ok, so see you the day after tomorrow in training. Have a day off tomorrow," he added.

The kids were happy for their day off and thanked the coach before packing their kits and leaving.

"Aww, Aryan. Are you a cricket genius?" Priya said as she hugged Aryan outside the stadium, squeezing him tight. "Muuum," Aryan said, embarrassed by the public affection.

Priya, not letting go of the opportunity, pulled Riya, who didn’t like these things, in for a family hug. The kids stopped protesting and enjoyed the hug. The ride home was all Priya and Riya talking excitedly as Aryan had slept in the passenger seat, exhausted.

After the match (Coach’s Office)

"What?" Coach Deshmukh said into the phone, disbelief in his voice. "He wants me to promote him before the U19’s next camp?"

Coach Deshmukh said, looking a bit sad at the prospect of losing Aryan so quickly. "But isn’t it too soon? I mean, he’s 14," said Coach Deshmukh.

After a back and forth between the person on the phone regarding age eligibility and talent waivers, he finally gave up and ended the call. Although he had known Aryan for a short while, he had grown attached to the kid and his work ethic.

"Haaah," he sighed, looking at the team roster on his wall before walking out of his office.