Chapter 109: The State Batting Coach
The crack of leather against willow echoed continuously across the indoor practice centre.
Dozens of cricket balls flew through the nets every minute.
Some were driven.
Some defended.
Some edged into the side netting.
Every sound blended into a steady rhythm that filled the enormous hall.
It was only the fourth day of the Himachal State Camp.
Yet the atmosphere had already changed.
The smiles from the first morning had disappeared.
Friendships still existed.
But competition had quietly taken their place.
Nobody wanted to lose their spot.
Not now.
Not after coming this far.
Sahil adjusted his gloves while waiting outside Net Two.
The previous day’s fitness benchmark still lingered in his muscles.
His legs felt heavy.
His shoulders remained sore.
Even gripping the bat felt different.
Coach Rana walked past without slowing.
"Today’s session isn’t about scoring runs."
He looked at every batsman waiting outside the nets.
"It’s about surviving your own mistakes."
The sentence puzzled several players.
Before anyone could ask what he meant, another man entered the practice hall.
He looked to be in his late forties.
Medium height.
Athletic build.
Short grey hair.
His white HPCA training cap sat perfectly straight despite the breeze flowing through the open practice area.
Unlike Coach Rana...
This man smiled.
But somehow...
That smile made him look even stricter.
Every assistant coach standing nearby immediately straightened their posture.
Even Coach Rana nodded respectfully.
That alone caught Sahil’s attention.
Whoever this man was...
Everyone respected him.
Coach Rana stepped onto the centre practice strip.
"I’d like everyone’s attention."
The conversations stopped instantly.
He looked toward the newcomer.
"This is Batting Coach Devendra Kapoor."
Several players exchanged quick glances.
The name was familiar.
Very familiar.
Kabir whispered under his breath.
"He played Ranji for nearly fifteen years."
Aryan nodded quietly.
"And coached India’s Under-19 batting camp twice."
Sahil looked back toward the coach.
He suddenly understood why the room had become so quiet.
Coach Kapoor stepped forward.
He didn’t carry a whistle.
He didn’t carry a clipboard.
Only an old cricket bat rested casually across his shoulder.
He looked around at the thirty-two players.
One by one.
Without speaking.
The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable.
Finally...
He smiled.
"So..."
He tapped the bat lightly against his shoulder.
"You’re the best batsmen and bowlers in Himachal."
Nobody answered.
Coach Kapoor nodded.
"Good."
Then...
He pointed toward the nets.
"I’ve watched every one of you since yesterday."
Several players looked surprised.
"You thought nobody was observing."
Another smile.
"I was."
He walked slowly toward the nearest practice wicket.
Without warning, he picked up a cricket ball lying on the ground.
"Who wants to bat?"
Nobody moved immediately.
Not from fear.
From uncertainty.
Coach Kapoor chuckled.
"I’ll choose."
His eyes settled on Sahil.
"Kangra."
Sahil stepped forward immediately.
"Yes, sir."
"Pads."
Within moments, Sahil stood at the crease.
No fielders.
No scoreboard.
Only Coach Kapoor standing twenty-two yards away with a cricket ball in his hand.
He wasn’t wearing bowling shoes.
He wasn’t even taking a run-up.
He simply walked a few steps.
Released the ball gently.
Half-volley.
Middle stump.
The easiest delivery imaginable.
Instinct took over.
Sahil drove firmly down the ground.
The ball raced into the net.
A beautiful shot.
At least...
That’s what he believed.
Coach Kapoor shook his head.
"No."
Silence.
Sahil blinked.
"No?"
"Again."
Another gentle delivery.
This time outside off.
Another elegant drive.
Again...
The coach shook his head.
"No."
A few players looked confused.
Even Aryan frowned.
Those had been good cricket shots.
Hadn’t they?
Coach Kapoor tossed Sahil a fresh ball.
"Throw it back."
Sahil obeyed.
The coach caught it easily.
Then walked all the way to the batting crease.
He placed his fingers gently around Sahil’s grip.
"Too tight."
He adjusted his bottom hand slightly.
Then tapped Sahil’s forearms.
"Too tense."
Another tap.
This time on his shoulders.
"Too eager."
He stepped back.
"Again."
The next delivery looked identical.
Sahil consciously relaxed his hands.
He played the same drive.
The sound changed immediately.
Cleaner.
Softer.
Yet...
Coach still wasn’t satisfied.
He folded his arms.
"Tell me."
Sahil hesitated.
"What?"
"Why did you hit that ball?"
The question seemed ridiculous.
"Because it was there."
Coach smiled.
"No."
Another pause.
"You hit it because you wanted to prove you could."
The practice hall fell completely silent.
Nobody interrupted.
Nobody laughed.
Coach Kapoor continued.
"Every young batsman wants to impress people."
He pointed toward the other players watching.
"With power."
Then he looked directly into Sahil’s eyes.
"Power impresses crowds."
He picked up the bat lying beside the stumps.
Control wins championships."
Those four words landed heavily inside Sahil’s mind.
Coach Kapoor slowly demonstrated the difference.
He asked one assistant to underarm a gentle delivery.
Without any visible effort...
The coach leaned forward.
The bat descended smoothly.
Tok.
The ball rolled straight through the middle of the practice lane.
It never left the ground.
Yet it struck the back net with surprising speed.
No violent follow-through.
No dramatic flourish.
Just perfect timing.
Perfect balance.
Perfect control.
Coach Kapoor looked toward the players.
"I’ve seen boys stronger than international cricketers."
He pointed toward the disappearing ball.
"They never reached Ranji."
Then he gently tapped the middle of the bat.
"I’ve also seen men who looked ordinary..."
A faint smile appeared.
"...play for India."
He turned back toward Sahil.
"Again."
Another ball arrived.
This time Sahil forgot about the boundary.
Forgot about looking impressive.
Forgot about hitting hard.
He simply watched the seam.
Moved forward.
Let the ball come.
Tok.
The connection felt completely different.
The ball travelled quickly.
Without force.
Without strain.
Coach Kapoor finally nodded.
"There."
The single word somehow felt like an achievement.
The coach called the rest of the batsmen closer.
Aryan.
Danish.
Three players from Shimla.
Two from Solan.
They formed a semicircle around him.
Coach Kapoor rested the bat against his shoulder once more.
"Every one of you can clear the ropes."
He looked around slowly.
"I don’t care."
The sentence stunned several players.
He continued calmly.
"If your answer to every problem is power..."
He pointed toward the bowling machines.
"...state cricket will expose you."
Then he looked directly at Sahil again.
"You."
"Yes, sir?"
"What kind of batsman do you think you are?"
Sahil considered the question.
"A finisher."
Coach Kapoor nodded.
"Correct."
Another pause.
"So tell me..."
His voice softened.
"What happens when the bowler doesn’t give you a ball to hit?"
Sahil opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
He didn’t have an answer.
Coach Kapoor smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
The silence lingered.
And for the first time since arriving at the state camp...
Sahil realized he had another weakness waiting to be solved.
The practice hall remained silent.
No one stepped toward the nets.
No one whispered.
Coach Devendra Kapoor’s final question still lingered in everyone’s mind.
"What happens when the bowler doesn’t give you a ball to hit?"
Sahil had no answer.
Not because he lacked confidence.
Because he genuinely didn’t know.
Throughout the district season, he’d built his reputation as a finisher.
When the pressure rose...
He attacked.
When the required rate climbed...
He attacked harder.
It had worked.
But standing inside the HPCA Indoor Centre, surrounded by the best cricketers in Himachal Pradesh, he suddenly wondered if it would always work.
Coach Kapoor seemed to read his thoughts.
"Come here."
Sahil walked back toward the crease.
Coach Kapoor picked up three cones and placed them on a good-length area just outside off stump.
"They’re imaginary fielders."
He pointed toward the bowling machine.
"I’m going to make your life difficult."
A technician adjusted the machine.
The speed display blinked.
138 km/h
The machine whirred loudly.
Coach Kapoor folded his arms.
"For the next twenty deliveries..."
He looked directly at Sahil.
"...you are not allowed to hit a boundary."
Several players looked surprised.
Danish frowned.
"Not even if it’s there?"
Coach Kapoor smiled.
"Especially if it’s there."
The first delivery arrived.
Back of a length.
Outside off.
Instinct told Sahil to punch it through cover.
Instead, he softened his hands and guided it toward backward point.
Single.
Coach Kapoor nodded.
"Good."
Second ball.
Full.
Middle stump.
Normally he would’ve driven firmly.
Instead, he played with soft hands toward mid-on.
Another single.
Third ball.
Short.
His eyes widened instinctively.
Pull.
Everything inside him wanted to attack.
He stopped the swing halfway.
The ball struck the upper half of the bat before dropping harmlessly beside the pitch.
Coach Kapoor smiled.
"You almost did it."
Sahil laughed awkwardly.
"I know."
The drill continued.
One ball after another.
Every tempting delivery forced him to think.
Not about scoring.
About choosing.
A cover drive wasn’t always correct.
A pull shot wasn’t always necessary.
Sometimes...
The best attacking option was refusing to attack.
After twenty deliveries, Coach Kapoor stopped the machine.
"How many boundaries?"
"None."
"How many mistakes?"
Sahil thought carefully.
"Three."
Coach shook his head.
"Only one."
"The pull shot?"
Coach nodded.
"You made the decision before the ball reached you."
He tapped the side of his head.
"Never let the shot decide."
"The ball decides."
Aryan entered the net next.
Coach gave him the same challenge.
Watching Aryan bat fascinated Sahil.
The Shimla batsman never looked rushed.
He left good deliveries.
Defended patiently.
Collected singles almost effortlessly.
Twenty balls.
No boundary.
No false stroke.
Coach Kapoor smiled.
"Now..."
He pointed toward the machine.
"Five free deliveries."
The pace remained the same.
138 km/h.
The first ball was overpitched.
Aryan’s bat flowed through the line.
FOUR.
Second ball.
Short.
Pulled behind square.
FOUR.
Third.
Yorker.
Defended.
Fourth.
Wide outside off.
Left alone.
Fifth.
Half-volley.
Driven beautifully.
FOUR.
Coach Kapoor turned toward the group.
"Did you see it?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Finally Kabir spoke.
"He attacked the right balls."
Coach smiled.
"No."
He held up one finger.
"He waited."
Another finger.
"He recognised."
A third.
"Then he attacked."
He looked around.
"That..."
He paused.
"...is control."
The afternoon session became increasingly demanding.
Bowling machines changed angles without warning.
Fast bowlers alternated between bouncers, yorkers and slower deliveries.
No batsman received an easy spell.
Every mistake was punished immediately.
Late in the session, Coach Kapoor called Sahil back once more.
"Last drill."
The assistant coach loaded fresh balls into the machine.
Coach looked toward Sahil.
"I’m not judging your runs."
"I’m judging your decisions."
Sahil nodded.
The machine fired.
Full.
Driven.
Single.
Short.
Left alone.
Good-length.
Defended.
Wide.
Ignored.
Half-volley.
Driven through extra cover.
FOUR.
Another overpitched delivery.
Straight drive.
FOUR.
Coach remained expressionless.
The final delivery of the spell climbed sharply toward his chest.
Instinct screamed again.
Pull it.
Months ago...
He would’ve.
Today...
He swayed underneath it calmly.
The ball struck the back net untouched.
The machine stopped.
Silence filled the hall.
Coach Kapoor walked toward him.
"So?"
Sahil removed his helmet.
"I didn’t need to play it."
A faint smile appeared.
"Exactly."
The coach gathered every batsman around the centre wicket.
"You all want to score centuries."
Several players nodded.
"You all want to hit sixes."
More smiles appeared.
He rested both hands on his bat.
"Good."
His expression hardened slightly.
"But remember this."
He pointed toward the bowling machines.
"Fast bowlers don’t fear power."
"They fear patience."
Silence.
Coach continued.
"A batsman who can only attack..."
"...is predictable."
"A batsman who knows when not to attack..."
"...is dangerous."
His eyes settled on Sahil once more.
"You already have power."
A pause.
"Now earn control."
Evening practice ended shortly afterwards.
Most players walked toward the hostel discussing the day’s session.
Some spoke about the pace.
Others argued about batting techniques.
Sahil remained behind near the empty practice wicket.
He replayed every delivery in his mind.
Not the boundaries.
The leaves.
The defensive shots.
The singles.
For the first time...
He understood batting wasn’t about showing what shots you possessed.
It was about hiding them until the right moment.
A familiar blue glow appeared before his eyes.
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TRAINING ANALYSIS
Batting Decision Making
Updated
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Power Utilization
72%
Control Efficiency
43%
Recommended Focus
• Shot Selection
• Strike Rotation
• Patience Against Pace
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Coach’s Lesson Recorded
Power is useless without control.
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No Reward Earned
Further Improvement Required
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The screen slowly faded.
Sahil looked toward the empty indoor nets one final time.
District cricket had taught him how to dominate.
State cricket was teaching him something much harder.
How to choose the right moment to dominate.
He picked up his bat and smiled quietly.
The lessons had only just begun.
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