Chapter 110: First State Nets
The morning fog still clung to the outfield when the academy speakers crackled to life.
Players emerged from the hostel one after another, carrying their kit bags across their shoulders. The previous week’s training had already begun changing them.
Nobody dragged their feet anymore.
Nobody complained about waking up before sunrise.
The routine had become normal.
State cricket demanded discipline long before it demanded talent.
Sahil walked beside Aryan toward the Indoor High Performance Centre, the cool mountain breeze carrying the smell of freshly cut grass across the academy.
Neither of them spoke much.
Today’s schedule posted outside the dining hall had already said enough.
09:00 A.M.
STATE MATCH SIMULATION NETS
The words had caught everyone’s attention.
This wasn’t another practice session.
This was the closest thing to an actual state match.
---
The indoor facility buzzed with activity long before the players arrived.
Ground staff carefully rolled practice wickets.
Support staff checked bowling machines.
Cameras were positioned behind every net.
Large digital screens displayed each lane’s speed gun.
Nothing here was random.
Everything was measured.
Everything was recorded.
---
Coach Rana stood beside the central practice strip with Batting Coach Devendra Kapoor.
Neither man carried a whistle today.
Coach Kapoor held only a notebook.
Coach Rana looked around the gathering players.
"Today’s session..."
He paused.
"...is different."
The room immediately fell silent.
"There will be no coaching during the spell."
Several batsmen exchanged curious looks.
Coach Kapoor continued.
"No advice."
"No corrections."
"No stopping the bowler."
He folded the notebook shut.
"You will face each delivery exactly as you would in a state match."
His eyes swept across the room.
"If you make mistakes..."
A pause.
"...the bowlers will punish them."
---
The bowlers smiled.
The batsmen didn’t.
---
Coach Rana began reading the training groups.
"Net One..."
Names followed.
Fast bowlers.
Batsmen.
Wicketkeeper.
"Net Two..."
More names.
Then...
"Net Three."
His eyes lifted briefly.
"Sahil Choudhary."
Sahil stepped forward.
"Rohan Thakur."
The tall Shimla fast bowler nodded calmly.
"Aditya Negi."
A left-arm seamer from Mandi adjusted his wristband.
"Vikram."
The state wicketkeeper.
Coach Rana looked toward the group.
"You’ll rotate every eighteen deliveries."
---
As Sahil padded up beside the practice wicket, he watched Rohan begin loosening his shoulders.
The tall fast bowler looked relaxed.
Almost too relaxed.
He picked up a brand-new red cricket ball and carefully polished one side against his trousers.
Coach Kapoor noticed Sahil watching.
"Do you know what he’s doing?"
"Keeping the shine."
Coach nodded.
"Why?"
"So the ball swings."
Coach smiled faintly.
"Good."
He pointed toward the polished side of the ball.
"Now remember something."
Sahil waited.
"At district level..."
Coach’s expression remained calm.
"...most bowlers hope the ball swings."
His eyes shifted toward Rohan.
"Here..."
A small pause.
"...they expect it to."
---
Those words settled quietly in Sahil’s mind.
---
The speed gun flickered to life.
The digital screen reset.
The wicketkeeper crouched behind the stumps.
Fielders weren’t needed.
Only survival mattered.
---
Coach Kapoor walked over to Sahil.
"I don’t care about boundaries."
Sahil nodded.
"I don’t care about runs."
Another nod.
Coach looked directly into his eyes.
"I only care whether your off stump survives."
---
The assistant coach raised one hand.
"Ready?"
Rohan answered with a slight nod.
Then...
He began running.
---
His action looked effortless.
Smooth.
Balanced.
The release came from high above his shoulder.
The seam remained perfectly upright.
The ball pitched just outside off stump.
Sahil judged it confidently.
Good length.
He moved forward.
Bat followed the line.
Then...
The ball moved.
Late.
Sharp.
His bat sliced through empty air.
Thud.
The wicketkeeper caught it cleanly.
The speed gun flashed.
136.8 km/h
Nobody said a word.
---
Rohan simply walked back.
No celebration.
No smile.
No sledging.
He prepared another ball.
---
Second delivery.
Almost identical.
Good length.
Outside off.
Sahil adjusted earlier this time.
Surely...
Not again.
The ball held its line until the very last moment.
Then drifted away.
Whoosh.
Another clean miss.
The wicketkeeper caught it beside his right shoulder.
"Good leave..."
Vikram stopped himself.
Then smiled.
"...if you’d actually left it."
Even Sahil couldn’t help smiling awkwardly.
---
Coach Kapoor remained expressionless.
He wrote something inside his notebook.
Nothing else.
---
Third ball.
Fuller.
Inviting.
Cover drive.
The shot every batsman loved.
Sahil leaned beautifully into it.
Everything looked perfect.
Until the seam kissed the outside edge.
The ball flew hard into the side net.
Not a catch.
But in a real match...
First slip would’ve accepted it comfortably.
Rohan caught the returning ball one-handed.
"Closer."
That was all he said.
---
Sahil tightened his grip slightly.
Watch the seam earlier.
Coach Kapoor’s words echoed inside his head.
---
Fourth delivery.
Back of a length.
The seam pointed toward first slip.
Again Sahil watched carefully.
Again he felt prepared.
Again...
The ball curved away after pitching.
His bat followed instinctively.
Too late.
Too wide.
Nothing.
The wicketkeeper collected another clean take.
---
Silence spread through the practice lane.
The players waiting outside stopped talking.
Nobody laughed.
Nobody mocked him.
Because everyone standing there had already experienced exactly the same thing.
---
Coach Rana walked behind the net.
He glanced once at the digital display.
Then toward Sahil.
No criticism.
No advice.
The rules had already been explained.
State match conditions.
Solve the problem yourself.
---
Rohan marked his run-up again.
Five balls remained.
His expression never changed.
No emotion.
Only concentration.
---
The fifth delivery looked different.
Slightly shorter.
Sahil resisted the temptation to drive.
He stayed back.
Defended late.
Tok.
Finally.
The ball struck the middle of the bat before dropping harmlessly beside the crease.
For the first time that morning...
Solid contact.
Rohan nodded respectfully.
"Better."
---
The compliment lasted exactly one ball.
The sixth delivery landed on almost the same spot.
Sahil expected another straight ball.
Instead...
The seam angled away viciously after pitching.
His bat chased it.
The gap between bat and ball widened.
The wicketkeeper completed another clean take.
Coach Kapoor quietly closed his notebook.
Eighteen deliveries had barely begun.
Yet Sahil already understood something uncomfortable.
The problem wasn’t his timing.
It wasn’t his power.
It wasn’t even his footwork.
It was something far more dangerous.
He simply didn’t know how to trust which ball to play...
And which ball to leave.
For the first time since arriving at the Himachal State Camp...
He had discovered a weakness that district cricket had never exposed.
The sound of the ball striking Vikram’s gloves echoed through Net Three.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Not because Sahil was edging everything.
Because he wasn’t touching the ball at all.
Coach Kapoor remained exactly where he had been since the session began.
Arms folded.
Notebook resting against his chest.
Watching.
Not speaking.
Not helping.
That was the point.
State cricket wouldn’t pause to explain mistakes.
It would simply expose them.
---
The assistant coach tossed another fresh ball toward Rohan.
The fast bowler rubbed one side carefully against his trousers before turning around at the top of his run-up.
He wasn’t bowling faster.
He wasn’t bowling magical deliveries.
He was simply bowling the same area...
Over.
And over.
And over again.
Outside off stump.
Testing patience.
Testing judgment.
Testing technique.
---
Rohan ran in.
The seam remained perfectly upright.
The ball landed on a teasing length.
For a split second, Sahil thought about driving.
Then...
He remembered Coach Kapoor’s question.
"What happens when the bowler doesn’t give you a ball to hit?"
His front foot started moving.
He stopped.
The bat remained high.
The ball swung away harmlessly into Vikram’s gloves.
"Good leave."
For the first time that morning, Coach Kapoor spoke.
"Better."
---
Not every ball needed to be played.
The realization seemed simple.
Yet implementing it felt incredibly difficult.
District cricket had rewarded positive intent.
State cricket punished unnecessary intent.
---
The next delivery started outside off before angling back sharply.
This time Sahil committed.
Late.
Compact.
The ball met the middle of the bat.
Tok.
It rolled gently toward mid-on.
No flourish.
No boundary.
No applause.
Yet something changed inside him.
He hadn’t survived because he guessed correctly.
He survived because he waited longer.
---
Rohan smiled faintly.
"There you go."
The compliment carried genuine respect.
Not sympathy.
Respect.
---
The spell continued.
Some deliveries swung.
Others held their line.
A few climbed unexpectedly from the surface.
Every single ball demanded a decision.
Leave.
Defend.
Attack.
The difficulty wasn’t playing cricket shots.
The difficulty was making the correct choice before it became too late.
---
After eighteen deliveries, the assistant coach blew his whistle.
"Rotate."
Sahil stepped out of the net and removed his helmet.
His shirt clung to his back.
Not from physical exhaustion.
From concentration.
Facing genuine swing bowling required complete focus.
One careless thought...
One lazy movement...
One incorrect decision...
And the innings would already be over.
---
Coach Kapoor walked toward him.
Instead of criticising, he held out a cricket ball.
"Show me."
Sahil looked confused.
"Show you what?"
"The seam."
Sahil positioned the ball.
Coach nodded.
"Good."
He rotated it slightly.
"When you played district cricket..."
He pointed toward the polished side.
"...most bowlers accidentally created swing."
Another small adjustment.
"These boys..."
He glanced toward Rohan and Aditya.
"...create it deliberately."
He held the ball between two fingers.
"They know exactly what they’re trying to make the ball do."
He handed it back.
"The question is..."
His eyes met Sahil’s.
"...do you?"
---
Before Sahil could answer, Aditya Negi stepped into the net.
Unlike Rohan, the left-arm seamer approached from a completely different angle.
His action looked shorter.
Quicker.
Almost deceptive.
Coach Kapoor looked toward Sahil.
"Watch carefully."
---
The first delivery curved in late to the right-handed batsman.
The second straightened after pitching.
The third angled across before moving away.
Sahil frowned.
The variations were subtle.
Yet they completely changed how a batsman had to react.
Aditya wasn’t simply bowling fast.
He was asking questions with every delivery.
---
Aryan joined Sahil beside the net.
"Tough?"
Sahil laughed quietly.
"I’ve never been beaten outside off stump so many times."
Aryan folded his arms.
"I was yesterday."
"You?"
Aryan nodded.
"Four edges."
Sahil looked surprised.
"You never edge."
Aryan smiled.
"I do now."
The honesty somehow made Sahil feel better.
Even the most technically gifted batsman in camp had struggled.
---
Coach Kapoor called everyone together before lunch.
Thirty-two players formed a semicircle around him.
He picked up three cricket balls.
One old.
One slightly worn.
One brand new.
Holding up the new ball, he asked,
"What’s the most dangerous weapon in red-ball cricket?"
A tall batsman answered confidently,
"Fast bowling."
Coach shook his head.
Another player spoke.
"Bounce."
Again...
"No."
Finally Kabir replied,
"Swing."
Coach smiled.
"Closer."
He placed the ball carefully on the pitch.
"The most dangerous weapon..."
He looked around the group.
"...isn’t swing."
Silence.
"It’s uncertainty."
Several players frowned.
Coach continued.
"If a batsman knows every ball will swing..."
He demonstrated with his hands.
"...he adjusts."
"If every ball goes straight..."
Another gesture.
"...he adjusts."
Then he looked directly at Sahil.
"But when he doesn’t know..."
A pause.
"...that’s when mistakes happen."
---
He walked toward the practice wicket.
"The bowlers aren’t trying to dismiss your bat."
"They’re trying to confuse your mind."
Those words lingered in the air.
Sahil replayed his spell mentally.
He hadn’t been beaten by pace alone.
He hadn’t been beaten by movement alone.
He had been beaten because every delivery forced him to doubt himself.
---
The afternoon session shifted to shadow batting.
No balls.
No bowlers.
Only footwork.
Coach Kapoor stopped beside Sahil repeatedly.
"Head still."
"Don’t chase."
"Play beneath your eyes."
"Let the ball arrive."
Tiny corrections.
Almost invisible.
Yet each one made his movements cleaner.
---
As the session ended, Coach Kapoor placed a hand lightly on Sahil’s shoulder.
"You’ve improved."
Sahil looked surprised.
"I got beaten all morning."
"Exactly."
Coach smiled.
"And you’re still here."
He pointed toward the nets.
"Do you know why state camps exist?"
Sahil shook his head.
"Not to prove you’re complete."
A brief pause.
"To show you what still needs work."
Those words struck deeper than any technical instruction.
---
The evening sun cast long shadows across the academy as players slowly returned to the hostel.
Some discussed bowling actions.
Others argued about footwork.
Sahil walked quietly with his kit bag resting over one shoulder.
He wasn’t disappointed.
He wasn’t frustrated.
He had discovered something valuable.
A weakness was no longer invisible.
Now...
It had a name.
Swing bowling outside off stump.
---
A familiar blue screen appeared before his eyes.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
SYSTEM ANALYSIS
New Weakness Identified
Playing Late Swing
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Current Proficiency
31%
State Requirement
70%+
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Recommended Training
• Leave Judgement
• Late Contact
• Soft Hands
• Off-Stump Awareness
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
NEW TRAINING OBJECTIVE
Survive 100 Consecutive Swing Deliveries
Without False Shot
Progress:
0 / 100
Reward:
+3 Control
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The blue screen slowly faded.
Sahil looked back once toward the empty practice nets.
In district cricket, he had feared failure.
At the state camp...
He welcomed it.
Because every weakness he discovered today...
Was one less weakness he would carry into tomorrow.
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