Chapter 113: Internal Practice Match
The academy woke to an unfamiliar feeling.
Competition.
Not the quiet, personal competition of improving a technique or completing another exhausting fitness session.
Today, players would compete against each other.
The notice had appeared on the hostel bulletin board shortly after dinner the previous evening.
HPCA HIGH PERFORMANCE CAMP
Internal Practice Match
Match Format: 50 Overs
Evaluation: Selection Performance
Attendance: Mandatory
One word had caught everyone’s attention.
Evaluation.
It wasn’t just another practice match.
Every run.
Every catch.
Every decision.
Every reaction under pressure.
Everything would be recorded.
Nobody said it aloud, but everyone understood.
This was the first unofficial selection trial.
By eight o’clock, the main stadium looked ready for professional cricket.
The outfield shimmered beneath the morning sunlight.
Fresh white crease lines stretched across the perfectly rolled pitch.
Electronic scoreboards displayed the team sheets.
Video cameras had already been positioned behind both sight screens.
Three selectors occupied the small viewing balcony beside Coach Rana.
Laptops rested open before them.
Every player noticed.
Nobody mentioned it.
Sahil stood near the boundary rope, fastening the strap of his pads while quietly studying the pitch.
Unlike the practice wickets, this strip looked harder.
Darker.
There was a faint green tinge running along the surface.
Enough to help the fast bowlers during the first hour.
Coach Kapoor appeared beside him.
"Tell me."
Sahil looked up.
"What do you see?"
He glanced back toward the wicket.
"Grass."
"More."
"It’ll help the seamers."
Coach nodded.
"What else?"
Sahil watched a groundsman roll the final section.
"The bounce should stay even."
Coach smiled.
"Good."
Then his expression became serious.
"What’s the biggest mistake a batsman makes before a match?"
Sahil thought carefully.
"Thinking about runs."
Coach nodded once.
"I don’t want boundaries today."
He paused.
"I don’t even want fifty."
Sahil frowned slightly.
Coach placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I want decisions."
He held Sahil’s gaze.
"If your decisions are correct..."
A faint smile appeared.
"...the runs will come on their own."
The players gathered near the presentation area.
Coach Rana held two sheets of paper.
"Blue XI."
He began reading the names.
Arjun Mehra.
Rohan Thakur.
Kabir.
Sahil Choudhary.
Danish.
Several others followed.
Coach Rana looked up.
"Captain."
His eyes settled on Arjun.
"You lead."
Arjun simply nodded.
No dramatic speech.
No excitement.
Just acceptance.
The remaining players formed the Red XI.
Their captain...
Aryan.
Sahil smiled instinctively.
If anyone deserved leadership, it was Aryan.
Coach Rana folded the team sheets.
"This is not Blue versus Red."
His voice echoed clearly around the stadium.
"It is..."
He paused.
"...Thirty-two players competing for eleven places."
Silence.
The weight of those words settled over everyone.
The toss took place beneath a cloudless sky.
Arjun called correctly.
"We’ll bowl."
Coach Kapoor nodded from the balcony.
Exactly what he would’ve chosen.
The morning conditions favoured the seamers.
The Red XI walked out to bat.
Aryan led from the front, tapping gloves with his opening partner before taking guard.
Rohan marked his run-up from the pavilion end.
The speed gun blinked awake.
136.9 km/h
The first ball of the match whistled past off stump.
Nobody cheered.
Nobody applauded.
Every player watched silently.
They weren’t spectators.
They were students.
The opening hour belonged entirely to the bowlers.
Rohan found movement immediately.
Kabir generated steep bounce from the opposite end.
Edges flew.
Appeals echoed.
The wicketkeeper barely stopped moving.
Sahil fielded at backward point, watching every delivery with complete concentration.
The pace looked even sharper than in the practice nets.
Everything happened faster.
The breakthrough arrived in the sixth over.
Kabir pitched one just outside off.
The batsman pushed uncertainly.
The edge carried comfortably to second slip.
Caught.
No wild celebration.
Only firm handshakes.
The match continued.
Aryan remained calm.
While wickets fell around him, he refused to panic.
Singles.
Leaves.
Solid defence.
Every decision looked measured.
Watching him bat reminded Sahil of Coach Kapoor’s lessons.
Control before power.
Red XI eventually recovered through a stubborn middle-order partnership.
Vivaan contributed an entertaining thirty before mistiming a lofted drive toward long-off.
Aryan anchored the innings with a composed half-century.
By the end of fifty overs...
The scoreboard displayed:
Red XI – 238/8
Competitive.
Not impossible.
Exactly the kind of target that demanded intelligent batting.
During lunch, nobody discussed the score.
Instead, conversations revolved around the pitch.
"It’s slowing down."
"The swing disappeared after twenty overs."
"The square boundary is shorter."
Every observation mattered.
State cricket rewarded awareness.
Inside the Blue XI dressing room, Arjun stood before the whiteboard.
He wrote one number.
239
Then erased it immediately.
Several players looked confused.
"We’re not chasing two hundred and thirty-nine."
He turned toward them.
"We’re chasing one run."
A few smiles appeared.
Arjun continued.
"Then another."
He capped the marker.
"Build enough good decisions..."
His eyes met Sahil’s.
"...and the scoreboard will take care of itself."
Blue XI’s chase began cautiously.
The Red XI opened with Ishaan Verma.
Exactly as everyone expected.
The left-arm seamer held the shiny new ball in his left hand while adjusting the field.
Three slips.
Gully.
Point.
Pressure from the very first delivery.
The first over produced only one run.
The second...
A wicket.
The opener chased a late outswinger.
Edge.
First slip.
Gone.
The scoreboard read:
Blue XI – 5/1
Another wicket followed quickly.
A brilliant inswinger trapped the number three batsman in front.
The umpire’s finger rose immediately.
18/2
The balcony remained silent.
The selectors simply typed notes into their laptops.
Arjun walked in at number three.
For nearly forty minutes, he demonstrated exactly why he stood on the edge of national selection.
He left beautifully.
Defended late.
Punished only genuine mistakes.
His composure slowly settled the chase.
At the other end...
Disaster.
A misunderstanding while attempting a second run ended in a needless run-out.
The crowd of players around the boundary sighed collectively.
The scoreboard changed once more.
Blue XI – 61/3
Twenty-two overs completed.
Still needing 178 runs.
Arjun removed his gloves briefly before looking toward the dressing room.
There was no panic on his face.
Only expectation.
Coach Kapoor quietly folded his notebook.
Without saying a word...
His eyes found Sahil.
Sahil stood.
Lifted his bat.
Adjusted his helmet.
The stadium suddenly felt much quieter.
Every lesson from the past two weeks flashed through his mind.
Power is useless without control.
Don’t chase the ball outside off.
Let the ball come to you.
Make good decisions.
Nothing else.
He tapped gloves with Arjun halfway down the pitch.
The captain looked at him calmly.
"No heroics."
Sahil nodded.
"Build."
Arjun smiled.
"Exactly."
Sahil took guard.
The scoreboard glowed in the afternoon sunlight.
Blue XI – 61/3
Target – 239
The first internal practice match had reached its most important moment.
And every coach in the stadium was watching.
The stadium became strangely quiet as Sahil settled into his stance.
The electronic scoreboard glowed above the sightscreen.
Blue XI – 61/3
Target – 239
Thirty-two players had arrived at the Himachal State Camp dreaming of earning a place in the State XI.
Today...
Dreams meant nothing.
Only performances did.
---
Ishaan Verma stood at the top of his run-up with the new ball still shining brightly in his left hand.
Three slips waited eagerly.
Point stood unusually square.
The field wasn’t protecting runs.
It was hunting wickets.
Arjun walked down the pitch before the first delivery.
"Remember."
His voice remained calm.
"They’re not judging your shots."
"They’re judging your choices."
Sahil nodded.
"I know."
Arjun smiled.
"Good."
"Then trust them."
---
Ishaan began his approach.
Smooth.
Balanced.
His final stride landed perfectly behind the crease.
The seam stood upright.
The ball pitched on a teasing fourth-stump line.
Exactly the delivery that had troubled Sahil throughout the week.
His instincts screamed to push at it.
Instead...
He remembered Coach Kapoor’s endless drills.
Watch.
Wait.
Decide.
The bat remained high.
The ball curved away harmlessly into the wicketkeeper’s gloves.
A leave.
Nothing more.
Yet Coach Kapoor quietly wrote something inside his notebook.
---
Second ball.
Almost identical.
Again...
Sahil left.
The slips exchanged amused glances.
"Scared to play?"
No answer.
The third delivery finally straightened toward off stump.
Only then did Sahil move.
His bat came down late.
Soft hands.
The ball kissed the middle before rolling toward mid-off.
"No."
Arjun called instantly.
"Good."
---
The over ended without drama.
Just one single.
But Sahil noticed something.
Ishaan looked mildly disappointed.
The left-armer hadn’t beaten him once.
---
At the opposite end, another fast bowler tried a different approach.
Short.
Into the body.
Sahil swayed underneath the first bouncer.
The second climbed toward his ribs.
This time he rolled his wrists naturally.
The controlled pull raced behind square.
FOUR.
The first boundary of his innings.
No celebration.
No fist pump.
He simply tapped the bat once against the pitch.
Coach Kapoor smiled faintly.
The shot had been earned.
---
Arjun walked across.
"That’s your ball."
Sahil nodded.
"I know."
"And the others?"
"I’ll wait."
The captain grinned.
"Perfect."
---
The partnership slowly gathered momentum.
Neither batsman forced the pace.
Singles appeared regularly.
Twos followed through sharp running.
Every loose delivery disappeared.
Every good ball received respect.
From the balcony, one of the selectors leaned toward Coach Rana.
"He looks calmer."
Coach Rana didn’t take his eyes off the field.
"He is."
---
The score crossed one hundred.
Blue XI – 108/3
The required rate remained manageable.
The pressure had begun shifting.
Now...
The bowlers needed something special.
---
Coach Rana looked toward Vivaan.
"Time for spin."
The mystery spinner adjusted his cap before accepting the ball.
Several players along the boundary leaned forward with interest.
This would be Sahil’s first proper challenge against him.
---
Vivaan smiled politely.
"Ready?"
Sahil smiled back.
"I hope so."
---
The first delivery floated gently toward off stump.
It looked inviting.
Almost too inviting.
Sahil resisted the temptation to drive.
He stretched forward.
Defended.
The ball gripped unexpectedly before turning past the outside edge.
Vikram completed another clean take.
Vivaan laughed.
"I thought that one was going straight."
Even Sahil smiled.
"So did I."
---
Second ball.
Identical action.
This time...
The ball never turned.
Sahil adjusted late, nudging it calmly toward midwicket for a single.
Small victory.
Important victory.
He hadn’t guessed.
He had reacted.
---
Arjun continued batting beautifully at the other end.
His fifty arrived quietly.
One gentle push through cover.
No raised bat.
No celebration.
He simply acknowledged the applause before refocusing immediately.
Watching him reminded Sahil that true class rarely demanded attention.
---
The partnership crossed seventy.
The coaches continued writing notes.
Nobody spoke.
The silence itself felt meaningful.
Every movement mattered.
Every decision carried weight.
---
Vivaan tossed another slower delivery into the air.
This one drifted wider.
Sahil waited.
Waited.
Then drove late through extra cover.
The ball never left the ground.
FOUR.
Coach Kapoor nodded once.
Exactly the shot they had spent hundreds of repetitions perfecting.
---
The required rate began climbing slightly.
Arjun glanced at the scoreboard.
"Time."
Sahil understood immediately.
The foundation had been built.
Now...
They needed acceleration.
---
The next over provided the opportunity.
A slightly overpitched delivery.
Straight drive.
FOUR.
A short ball followed.
Controlled pull.
FOUR.
Not reckless.
Not desperate.
Simply punishing mistakes.
The field spread wider.
Singles became easier.
Exactly as Coach Kapoor had predicted.
---
With the score approaching one hundred and seventy, disaster almost struck.
Arjun clipped a full ball toward midwicket.
"Two!"
Both batsmen sprinted.
The return came quickly.
Very quickly.
Sahil remembered the fielding drills.
Half-seconds mattered.
Instead of diving recklessly, he stretched his bat smoothly toward the crease.
The bails flew.
The umpire checked briefly.
"NOT OUT."
Arjun smiled.
"Good awareness."
Sahil exhaled slowly.
Back in district cricket...
He would’ve dived.
State camp had taught him something better.
Efficiency.
---
A few overs later, Arjun finally departed for a composed sixty-eight.
The applause around the ground carried genuine respect.
He had controlled the chase.
Now...
The responsibility shifted again.
---
Sahil looked up.
The scoreboard showed:
Blue XI – 181/4
He quietly counted.
Fifty-eight still needed.
Seven overs remained.
Manageable.
---
The bowlers attacked once more.
Yorkers.
Slower balls.
Wide lines.
Every delivery demanded concentration.
Sahil responded calmly.
One run.
Then two.
Then another boundary when the length allowed.
Nothing forced.
Everything calculated.
---
His innings reached forty.
Not through spectacular sixes.
Not through impossible strokes.
Through patience.
Rotation.
Timing.
Control.
The qualities Coach Kapoor had tried to build from the first day.
---
Then came the mistake.
A slower ball sat slightly shorter than expected.
Sahil recognized it instantly.
He stepped forward.
Looking to clear long-on.
The connection felt good.
Not perfect.
The ball climbed high toward the boundary.
For a moment...
Silence.
Then...
Safe hands.
Caught.
Sahil removed his helmet before beginning the walk back.
42 (26)
4 Fours.
1 Six.
Not a match-winning innings.
Not a century.
Yet as he crossed the boundary rope, Coach Kapoor stopped him.
"What disappointed you?"
Sahil looked confused.
"I got out."
Coach nodded.
"Anything else?"
Sahil thought carefully.
"No."
A small smile appeared.
"Good."
He closed the notebook in his hand.
"Today..."
He looked directly into Sahil’s eyes.
"...you didn’t bat for applause."
A brief pause.
"You batted for your team."
Another pause.
"And that’s exactly what I wanted."
---
Blue XI completed the chase with just over an over remaining.
Players shook hands.
The result hardly mattered.
This wasn’t about Blue defeating Red.
It was about thirty-two cricketers competing for eleven places.
---
Later that evening, Coach Rana sat alone in the analysis room.
One by one, he reviewed every player’s performance sheet.
Batting.
Fielding.
Fitness.
Decision-making.
When he reached Sahil’s page, he paused.
Then picked up his pen.
Instead of writing about the boundaries.
Instead of mentioning the score.
He wrote a single word beneath Sahil Choudhary’s name.
Composed.
He underlined it once.
No further explanation was needed.
---
Outside, beneath the fading orange sky, Sahil walked back toward the hostel carrying his bat over one shoulder.
Forty-two runs.
Nothing extraordinary.
Yet somehow...
It felt more satisfying than many of the explosive fifties he had scored in district cricket.
Because today...
For the first time since arriving at the Himachal State Camp...
He hadn’t tried to prove he belonged.
He had simply played cricket.
And perhaps...
That was exactly why the coaches had finally begun to notice him.
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