Time: 4:00 PM
Location: St. Ann's High School, The "Nets."
The "Nets" at St. Ann's weren't lush green turf facilities like you see on TV. They were unforgiving.
Two strips of cement. One covered with a fraying coir mat (for spin), the other bare concrete (for pace). The net itself was a torn green mesh held up by rusted iron poles. If you hit the pole, the ball ricocheted back at you like a bullet.
Sai walked onto the ground. He felt different today.
The Segar rubber studs crunched on the gravel. Crunch. Crunch.
His white uniform was slightly loose, billowing in the hot wind, but it was bright and clean.
He looked at the other U-12 kids. They looked nervous.
He looked at the U-16 seniors. They looked like giants. Some of them had beards.
Gopal Sir blew his whistle.
"Five rounds! Warm up! Go!"
As Sai jogged, he focused on his breathing.
Inhale-2-3. Exhale-2-3.
While other kids were sprinting and burning out in the first round, Sai maintained a steady, rhythmic pace.
Efficiency.
[FEEDBACK]
Stamina Drain: Low. Pace: Sustainable.
By the fifth round, half the kids were walking, hands on their knees. Sai finished the lap at the same speed he started.
Gopal Sir noticed. He didn't say anything, but he nodded.
Time: 4:30 PM
The Hierarchy of the Nets
"Seniors batting first!" yelled Raghu, the U-16 Vice Captain.
Raghu was a terror. He was in 10th Class. He was six feet tall, broad-shouldered, and bowled pace.
The U-12 kids were relegated to "Ball Boys." Their job was to stand outside the net and throw the ball back when the seniors hit it.
Sai stood at "Long Stop" (behind the nets), watching Raghu bat.
Whack!
Raghu smashed a ball. It hit the iron pole and flew past a 6th grader's head.
"Oye! Catch pakad na bey!" Raghu yelled. (Catch it, you idiot!)
Sai narrowed his eyes. Typical school bully. Uses power to scare kids.
After 45 minutes of fetching balls in the heat, the seniors were done.
"Okay, Juniors! Go in!" Gopal Sir ordered. "Raghu, you bowl. Loosen your arm. But don't kill them."
Raghu smirked. He picked up the old, scuffed red leather ball. The shine was gone, but the seam was still hard.
The U-12 captain, Aditya, went in to bat first.
Raghu ran in off a short run-up. He bowled at maybe 60% effort.
Aditya managed to block a few, looking confident.
"Next! Number 12!"
Sai tightened his oversized gloves. He pulled his helmet on. It was loose; it rattled slightly when he moved his head.
He walked onto the concrete pitch.
From 22 yards away, Raghu looked enormous.
"Guard, please. Leg stump," Sai said.
Raghu laughed. "Leg stump? Arey, just try to touch the ball first."
Raghu walked back to his mark. He turned. He looked at the small 10-year-old.
Maybe he was bored. Maybe he wanted to show off to his friends.
Raghu lengthened his run-up.
He's going to bowl fast, Sai realized. The 20-year-old brain analyzed the body language. The shoulder rotation. The intent.
Ball 1:
Raghu steamed in. He leaped.
He slammed the ball into the concrete.
ZOOM.
The ball skidded off the cement surface way faster than Sai expected.
Sai's brain said "Defend."
His body said "I'm still loading the backlift."
[DISSONANCE]
Reaction Time: Critical Failure.
The ball flew past Sai's outside edge before he even completed his downswing. It thudded into the keeper's gloves with a terrifying SMACK.
"Oooooh!" The seniors jeered. "Too fast, chotu!"
Sai stepped away from the stumps. He took a deep breath.
His heart was hammering against his ribs.
That was... 115 kph? Maybe 120?
For a 10-year-old, 120 kph feels like 150.
I can't play this on reaction, Sai realized. My nerves are fast, but my muscles are slow.
He needed a Trigger.
He remembered Steve Smith. He remembered Virat Kohli's forward press.
He needed to start moving before Raghu released the ball.
Ball 2:
Raghu ran in again.
Just as Raghu entered his delivery stride, Sai made a small movement.
He shuffled his back foot across and pressed his weight forward.
The Trigger Movement.
[CLICK]
Pre-load complete.
Raghu released the ball. Full, attacking the stumps.
Because Sai was already moving, he didn't have to rush. He was ready.
He brought the bat down.
Clunk.
He jammed the bat down just in time. The ball hit the bottom of the bat and trickled to the off-side.
Vibration jarred his hands (bad contact), but he survived.
"Lucky!" someone shouted.
Sai ignored them. He tapped the pitch.
The shuffle works. It buys me 0.2 seconds.
Ball 3: The Ego Ball.
Raghu didn't like being blocked by a 5th grader.
He rubbed the ball on his trousers.
"Watch your head, kid," he muttered.
He ran in hard.
He banged it short. A bouncer on concrete rises sharply.
Sai saw the length early.
Don't sway. It's too fast to sway.
Duck.
[RESONANCE]
Survival Instinct: Activated.
Sai collapsed his knees instantly. He dropped into a squat, looking like a tiny white ball.
The red leather ball whizzed over his helmet, inches from the grill.
Sai stood up calmly. He looked at Raghu. He didn't glare. He just nodded.
Gopal Sir, standing behind the net, stopped writing.
Ball 4:
Raghu was panting. He was annoyed. He decided to finish this with a yorker.
He aimed for the base of the stumps.
Sai did his shuffle. Back-and-across.
He saw the release point. Full. Very full.
Soft hands won't work here. The momentum will knock the bat out of my hand.
I need a solid base.
Sai locked his front knee. He presented the full face of the bat, gripping the handle tight with his top hand.
[CLICK]
THOCK.
The sound was beautiful. A solid, woody sound.
The ball hit the middle of the bat and rebounded straight back down the pitch. It rolled past Raghu's ankles.
The Straight Drive Defense.
Silence in the nets.
Blocking a pacer is one thing. Driving him straight back is a statement.
"Time up!" Gopal Sir yelled. "Next batsman!"
Sai pulled his stumps out of the ground (school rule: batsman carries his stumps).
He walked past Raghu.
Raghu looked down at him, wiping sweat.
"Oye," Raghu said.
Sai stopped. "Yes, Anna?"
Raghu didn't smile. But his tone had changed. It wasn't mocking anymore.
"Studs tighten chesko. Loose unte slip avthav." (Tighten your studs. If they are loose, you will slip.)
It was advice. A sign of acceptance.
"Thanks, Anna."
Sai walked out of the net, his hands trembling slightly from the impact of the heavy ball.
Karthik ran up to him outside the mesh.
"Arey! You survived Raghu! Did you see the speed? I would have died!"
Sai sat down on his kit bag and started unstrapping his pads. His palms were red and stinging. The "Dissonance" was fading, leaving a dull ache in his forearms.
He looked at his new Segar shoes. They were scuffed with red dust.
He looked at the orange grip on his bat. It had a deep red mark right in the middle.
Center of the bat.
Sai smiled, taking a sip of warm water from his bottle.
I can play at this level, he thought. I just need to get stronger.
"Karthik," Sai said, panting.
"Enti?"
"Do you have boiled eggs in your lunch box?"
"Uh... yes. Why?"
"Give them to me. I need protein."