Zaid gripped the ball, his fingers pressing into the seam.
Across from him, the senior batsman tapped his bat on the ground, a smirk on his face. He wasn't worried.
Coach Arif's voice rang out. "Six balls. Get him out."
Zaid took a deep breath, ran in, and bowled.
First ball – full and swinging in.
The batsman stepped forward and drove it cleanly. The ball raced past Zaid.
Straight to the boundary.
Laughter echoed from the sidelines.
Zaid clenched his jaw. Focus.
He adjusted his length and bowled again.
Second ball – back of a length, angling in.
The batsman tried to pull, but the ball skidded low, hitting his thigh pad.
No run. Better.
Zaid exhaled, his confidence returning.
Third ball – slower one.
The batsman misread it, playing too early. The ball looped up… but landed just short of mid-wicket.
Zaid's fingers twitched. So close.
Three balls left. He needed a breakthrough.
He stepped back, planning his next move.
Zaid wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. Three balls left. One wicket needed.
He met the batsman's eyes. The guy was relaxed. Overconfident.
Good.
Zaid took a deep breath, ran in, and bowled.
Fourth ball – a sharp bouncer.
The batsman rocked back and swayed away, letting it go.
Coach Arif nodded approvingly. "Good variation. But you still need the wicket."
Zaid took his mark again. Two balls left.
He needed something different. Something lethal.
His fingers adjusted on the seam. He whispered to himself, "Top of off. Let it nip back in."
He sprinted in, his body moving on instinct.
Fifth ball – fast, full, and swinging late.
The batsman misjudged. The ball snuck past his defense—
CRASH! The off-stump cartwheeled.
Silence.
Then, cheers erupted from the sidelines.
Zaid pumped his fist. He had done it.
Coach Arif smiled. "That… was a bowler's delivery."
Zaid exhaled, a grin forming.
He was getting there.
Zaid sat on the bench, gulping down water. His arms ached, his legs felt heavy, but inside—he felt alive.
Coach Arif walked up to him. "Good spell. But one wicket in six balls isn't enough. In real matches, you might get only one over to change the game."
Zaid nodded. "I'll do better."
Arif smirked. "You will. Because we're not done yet."
Zaid's head snapped up. "What?"
Arif pointed to the nets. "Batting practice. You want to be an all-rounder, right? Then prove it."
Zaid groaned but dragged himself up. No excuses.
He took his bat and stepped into the nets.
The bowler at the other end? A Ranji-level pacer.
The guy grinned. "Hope you're ready, kid."
Zaid tightened his grip. Bring it on.
Zaid tapped his bat against the pitch, eyes locked on the bowler. A Ranji-level pacer. This was no joke.
The bowler sprinted in, his action smooth, effortless—but the ball came like a bullet.
First ball – a sharp bouncer.
Zaid barely had time to react. He swayed back at the last second, feeling the wind as the ball whizzed past his helmet.
The pacer smirked. "Scared?"
Zaid exhaled. No. He wasn't.
Second ball – full and fast.
Zaid stepped forward and drove. Crack!
The ball raced past cover. Four runs.
Coach Arif nodded. "Better. But can you handle swing?"
The next delivery swung in viciously. Zaid misread it—the ball crashed into his pads.
The bowler appealed. "That's out!"
Zaid looked at Arif. The coach shook his head. "Leg stump missing. Keep going."
Zaid gritted his teeth. He needed to be sharper.
This wasn't just practice.
This was survival.
Zaid adjusted his stance. He had to be smarter. The pacer wasn't just fast—he was testing him, setting him up for failure.
The bowler ran in again, eyes locked on Zaid.
Fourth ball – an outswinger, tempting a drive.
Zaid almost went for it. Almost.
At the last second, he pulled his bat away. The ball swung late, missing the edge by a hair.
The pacer raised an eyebrow. "Learning, huh?"
Zaid just smirked. "You'll see."
Fifth ball. Short of a length, angling in.
Zaid stayed back and punched it off the back foot. The timing was perfect. The ball raced through point.
Four more.
A few players clapped from the sidelines.
Final ball.
The pacer put everything into it—a toe-crushing yorker.
Zaid reacted instantly, digging it out with a straight bat. The ball rolled safely back down the pitch.
Coach Arif smiled. "That's enough. Good session."
Zaid exhaled, rolling his shoulders. He wasn't just surviving anymore.
He was growing.
And soon, he'd be unstoppable.