Chapter 19: Chapter 19:
Devendra completed his over from the pavilion end, giving away five runs after their opener got a thick inside edge past short-leg.
I walked back to my mark at the Azad end, turning the ball over in my palm. The shiny red surface was already showing green grass marks and small scratches from the parched turf.
Shoulder feels looser now. The morning stiffness is gone. But the grass is drying up fast. The ball won’t skid as much as it did ten minutes ago. I need to bowl a fraction fuller to keep him forward.
Rahul, their left-handed opener, was waiting at the striker’s end. He was tapping his bat hard inside the crease, his eyes looking toward the off-side. He had faced twelve balls from me without scoring a single run, and his shoulders were hitched up high.
"Field is same, Kabir!" Nitin called out from short-cover, holding up his hands. "Keep it tight!"
Kamlesh was crouching low at first slip, his palms resting on his knees. Amit was a yard to his right at second slip. The inner ring was packed.
Sanjay squatted behind the stumps, his gloves making a muffled thud as he clapped them together. "Come on, Kabir. Same line, re."
I took a breath, fixed my eyes on the top of off-stump, and started my run-up.
My spikes clicked against the hard soil as I picked up speed. I loaded side-on at the crease, keeping my right shoulder pointing straight at his chest to hide the leather behind my body until the last split second. Then I snapped my left wrist downward.
The ball flew down the middle-and-off line, pitching right on a length. Rahul didn’t wait to see if it would turn. He lunged forward with a big stride, slamming his bat down to block it straight back into the turf.
Click.
The ball stopped right under his nose. He didn’t look for a run. He just kicked the dirt away with his shoe and took his stance again.
He’s playing too early. He expects the ball to nipping back like the first over. Let’s hold the seam straight this time. Let the natural angle take it away from his body.
For the second delivery, I ran in with the same action, but I adjusted my grip slightly, putting less pressure on the thumb. The ball pitched in the same spot on middle-stump, but instead of cutting back, it maintained its natural line, angling across him toward the fourth-stump corridor.
Rahul, thinking it was another inswinger, played with a closed bat face, angling his blade toward the leg side.
The ball zipped past his outside edge, missing the wood by an inch.
"Oh!" Sanjay shouted, grabbing the ball cleanly. "Beautiful, Kabir! He played completely for the turn!"
Rahul didn’t say anything. He stepped out of his crease for a second, rubbing his gloves against his trousers. His face was completely red.
The third ball was a loose one. My wrist snapped a fraction too early on the release, and the ball drifted down the leg-stump line, pitching full. Rahul didn’t miss it. He swiveled his hips and clipped it off his pads, sending it through the empty square-leg region.
"Chase it, Kamlesh!" Nitin yelled.
Kamlesh sprinted from slip, his boots tearing up the dry grass near the boundary fence. He managed to slide and grab the ball right before it hit the rail, throwing it back. Don Bosco ran two.
My fault. Got lazy with the wrist release. Keep the arm high. Don’t let the ball slide down the pads.
The scoreboard ticked to 7 for 0. The Don Bosco bench was shouting from the boundary line, clapping their hands.
On the fourth delivery, I tightened the length. I ran in hard, pulling my right shoulder down with maximum force to get whatever extra bounce was left in the damp patch. The ball pitched short on the off-stump line and skidded fast off the surface.
Rahul was completely stuck on his front foot. He tried to pull his bat away at the last millisecond, but the ball was too quick, crashing hard into his front thigh pad with a heavy thud.
"Howzatt!" Sanjay and I yelled together, turning toward the umpire.
The umpire shook his head, waving his hand down to show the bounce was too high. Rahul let out a ragged breath, leaning on his bat handle.
He’s completely rattled. He can’t get forward cleanly because he’s terrified of the inside edge, and he can’t go back because the bounce is low. This is the moment. Give him the classic fourth-stump line.
I walked back to my five-step mark, wiped the sweat off my forehead with my sleeve, and turned around.
The fifth ball of the over. I ran in with a smooth stride, keeping my gaze locked on the channel just two inches outside his off-stump. I loaded side-on, whipped my left arm through, and let the seam point perfectly toward first slip.
The ball flew straight, pitching exactly on the fourth-stump line on a perfect good length.
Rahul’s patience broke completely. He had faced eighteen balls from my end for just two runs, and he couldn’t stand the pressure anymore. Instead of leaving it alone, he reached out with a lazy, crooked-bat push, trying to force a single through the off-side gap. His feet didn’t move at all.
The ball took a thick, clean outside edge.
Clack.
The ball flew low and fast, straight toward the slip cordon.
Kamlesh didn’t even have to move his feet. He dropped his knees, kept his eyes locked on the red ball, and cupped his hands right at ankle height, swallowing it cleanly.
"Catch!" Sanjay screamed, but the ball was already inside Kamlesh’s gloves.
"Howzatt!" the entire Shardashram inner ring roared together.
The main umpire lifted his right index finger straight up into the afternoon sky. Rahul stood there for two seconds, looking down at the patch of dirt, before turning around to walk back to his tent. He was gone for 2 runs off 19 balls.
Score: 7 for 1.
"Yes, Kabir!" Nitin yelled, sprinting from cover and grabbing me in a tight headlock, rubbing his knuckles against my cap. "Fantastic line, re! He completely fell into the trap!"
Kamlesh ran over, holding the ball up with a massive grin. "The edge was completely thick, Kabir. It came right into my palms."
I took the ball back from him, my heart pumping fast against my ribs. I didn’t celebrate wildly. I just gave Kamlesh a quick tap on his gloves and walked back to my mark to bowl the final ball of the over to their new batsman, who blocked it straight back to me.
I finished my opening spell by the seventh over of the match, finishing with figures of 4 overs, 2 maidens, 6 runs, and 1 wicket. My left shoulder felt completely heavy and stiff from the exertion.
"Go stand at slip, Kabir," Nitin told me during the over change. "Devendra is going to bowl short from the other end."
I handed my cap to the umpire and walked over to first slip, dropping into a low crouch next to Sanjay.
Their number three, a stocky boy named Rizwan, didn’t even try to defend. On his third ball from Devendra, he tried to swing wildly over mid-on, missed the line completely, and had his off-stump knocked back.
Clack.
"Stupid shot, re!" the Don Bosco coach screamed from the boundary fence, slamming his water bottle against the plastic chair. "Keep the ball on the ground!"
Their captain came in at number four and tried to hit our off-spinner, Vinay, over the infield on his very first over. He didn’t get to the pitch of the ball. The leather hit a dry crack, turned sharply, and flew straight to Nitin at short-cover.
Score: 42 for 3.
By 2:15 PM, the sun was baking the turf, and the pitch was throwing up small puffs of red dust every time Vinay or Manish landed the ball. The Don Bosco lower order had no idea how to handle the uneven bounce. They kept trying to play big, aggressive shots to force the run rate up, but they were just giving away simple catches.
Their middle order completely threw in the towel after that. They stood deep in their crease, poking blindly at everything. Vinay and Manish just bowled a straight, flat line, knocking over their stumps one by one. Devendra came back for a short spell from the far end, wrapping up their number nine with a quick yorker that hit the base of the wood.
Right at 3:35 PM, Vinay fired a quicker ball that went straight through the number eleven’s defense, clipping the leg-stump.
"All out!" the umpire shouted.
Don Bosco was completely bundled out for exactly 153 runs in 38 overs.
Our boys ran back toward the tent, grabbing their water bottles. Their first innings was over, and they had set a small total on a cracking pitch.
I unbuckled my helmet, my legs trembling from pure physical exhaustion as I stood near the stumps. My uniform whites were completely brown from the maidan dust, and my throat felt like sandpaper.
I called up the screen in the quiet glare.
[STATUS PANEL]
Name: Kabir Singh
Age: 8
Stamina: 42/100
Innings 1 Bowling: 4 Overs (2 Maidens, 6 Runs, 1 Wicket) | 0 Catches
Match Status: Don Bosco 153 All Out (Shardashram Innings 1 Coming Up Next)
Milind Rege was already walking across the boundary grass toward our tent, his black notebook tucked under his arm. He stopped right next to Achrekar sir, who was leaning against his scooter.
"Good discipline with the new ball, Harpal," Rege said, looking at my dad who was standing nearby. "The boy didn’t let them get away early."
Achrekar sir didn’t smile. He just clicked his fountain pen, closed his clipboard, and looked toward our team huddle. "Nitin, get the open pads ready. The sun is hot, and we need a clean start before the evening stumps."
I lifted my canvas bag, looking down at my dusty shoes as the team started gathering for the chase. Don Bosco was out for 153. Now, it was our turn to bat.
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