Date: September 14, 2008 (Sunday) Time: 8:00 AM Location: Parade Grounds, Secunderabad.
Two months had passed since the Chicken Shop epiphany.
Sai stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom. He marked a line on the wall with a pencil. Growth: 1.5 inches. Weight: +3 kg.
The boiled chicken, sweet potatoes, and relentless push-ups were working. He wasn't "muscular" yet—he was still a skinny 10-year-old—but the stick-figure look was gone. His forearms had definition. His legs felt solid.
"Sai! Ready ah?" Rao shouted from the living room.
Today was the big one. The U-14 North Zone Selections.
Hyderabad cricket was divided into zones. North, South, East, West, Central. The best 15 players from each zone would form a Zonal Team. These teams would play a tournament. From there, the Hyderabad State U-14 Team would be picked.
This was the funnel.
The Arrival
Rao's Bajaj Chetak scooter sputtered into the parking lot of Parade Grounds. It was crowded. But unlike the open trials at Gymkhana, the crowd here was different.
These were the "Cream" players. Most kids arrived in cars—Maruti Zens, Altos, and Hyundai Santros. Parents were unloading massive kit bags. Coaches were giving last-minute pep talks.
As Sai got off the scooter, a gleaming white Honda City (the luxury car of 2008) pulled up right next to them. The door opened. A boy stepped out.
He was tall. Maybe 5'6". He looked 13 or 14. He was wearing a pristine white branded kit (Nike). He had high-top cricket spikes. His driver opened the trunk and pulled out a massive, shiny kit bag with "MRF" branding.
But what caught Sai's eye was the bat the boy was holding. Gray-Nicolls English Willow. The grains on the wood were straight as arrows. That bat alone cost more than Sai's dad's monthly salary.
"That is Vihan Reddy," a kid whispered nearby. "St. John's Academy. His dad is a contractor."
Sai watched Vihan walk towards the pavilion. Vihan didn't look nervous. He looked like he owned the ground.
Rao adjusted Sai's collar. "Don't look at the car. Look at the ball."
Sai smiled. "Yes, Nanna."
The Selection Process
There were three nets. Net 1: Fast Bowlers. Net 2: Spinners. Net 3: The "Elite" Net (where the head selectors were sitting).
The "System" scanned the area.
[OBSERVATION] Selector Bias Detected.
The Head Selector, a grumpy man named Mr. Baig, was only watching Net 3. And guess who was batting in Net 3? The kids from the big academies. Vihan Reddy, and a few others from St. John's and Arshad Ayub Academy.
The "League Players" (like Sai, from C-Division clubs) were stuck in Net 1 and 2, being watched by junior assistants.
If I stay in Net 1, I will be ignored, Sai realized. I need to get into Net 3.
He walked up to the junior assistant holding the clipboard. "Sir, batting number?"
"You are Number 42. Wait in Net 1 line."
Sai looked at Net 1. A erratic fast bowler was spraying the ball everywhere. It was a waste of time. He looked at Net 3. Baig Sir was watching Vihan bat.
Vihan played a beautiful cover drive. "Good shot, beta!" Baig Sir clapped.
Sai gritted his teeth. Politics.
The Intervention
Sai needed a way to jump the queue. He saw Reddy Sir (his club owner) standing near the pavilion, talking to another coach. Sai ran over.
"Reddy Sir!"
Reddy Sir turned. "Arey Sai. Why are you not in line?"
"Sir, they put me in Net 1. Baig Sir is not looking there. If I don't bat in Net 3, I won't get selected."
Reddy Sir looked at the nets. He knew how the system worked. He sighed. "Okay. Come with me."
Reddy Sir walked straight to Mr. Baig. They shook hands. "Baig Saab! Salam."
"Arey Reddy! How is Deccan Blues?"
"Good, good. Listen, I have a boy. Special talent. Won me the Postal match. I want you to see him personally."
Baig frowned. He looked at Sai. "This small one? U-14? He looks U-10."
"Size pe mat jao (Don't go on size). Give him 6 balls in Net 3."
Baig hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. After Vihan finishes. Send him in."
The Face-Off
Vihan finished his batting session. He walked out, sweating slightly, looking satisfied. He had played well. Technical, powerful. He saw Sai wearing the oversized pads and holding the weirdly short bat (the one cut by the carpenter).
Vihan smirked. "Good luck, kid. The bowler is quick."
Sai walked into Net 3. The bowler was an U-16 pacer brought in to test the batsmen. He was fast.
Sai took his guard. He tapped the pitch. Tap. Tap.
Baig Sir leaned forward in his chair. "Let's see."
Ball 1: The bowler ran in. Good length, outside off. Sai shuffled. Trigger Movement. He left it alone. Baig looked bored.
Ball 2: Fuller. Sai leaned into the drive. [CLICK] He pushed it to mid-off. Solid. But no power. Baig yawned. "Okay, decent technique. Next."
Sai panicked internally. Decent isn't enough. I need 'Spectacular'. I have no power. I can't smash it like Vihan. I need to do something Vihan didn't do.
Ball 3: The bowler banged it short. Sai ducked.
Ball 4: The bowler pitched it up on legs. Sai flicked it. nice shot. But Vihan had hit this for four. Sai just pushed it for two.
I am fading. I am becoming invisible.
Then, the bowler changed. A Spinner came to bowl. A tall Left-Arm Spinner. He was tossing it up, getting drift.
Vihan had played this spinner by blocking on the front foot.
Sai decided to change the script.
Ball 5: The spinner tossed it up outside off stump. Sai didn't block. He didn't drive.
He went down on one knee. He extended his arms. The Sweep Shot.
In 2008 junior cricket, coaches hated the sweep. They called it "risky." But Sai knew the geometry. The ball was drifting away. If he swept it against the spin, he could control it.
[RESONANCE]
Smack.
He nailed it. The ball flew behind square leg, racing to the boundary.
Baig Sir stopped yawning. "Oho?"
Ball 6: The spinner was annoyed. He fired it in flatter, on middle stump. Sai predicted the adjustment. He didn't sweep this time. He stepped out. Fast. He converted the flat ball into a full toss. He worked his wrists. Inside-Out Loft over Covers.
It was pure VVS Laxman. The ball floated over the imaginary cover fielder and landed soft.
Baig Sir stood up. He looked at Reddy Sir. "Hands are gold. But body is plastic."
Reddy Sir grinned. "Plastic can be hardened. But you can't buy those hands in a shop."
Baig scribbled something on his sheet. He looked at Sai. "Okay. You are in the Probables Camp. 30 players. Next week."
Sai walked out of the net. Vihan was standing there, drinking Gatorade. He looked at Sai differently now. The smirk was gone. Replaced by a cold stare.
"You swept against the spin," Vihan said. "Lucky shot. Next time you'll top edge it."
Sai unstrapped his pads. He looked up at the rich kid. "Maybe," Sai said calmly. "But today, it was four."
Sai picked up his blue travel bag and walked to his dad. He had made the cut. The list was trimmed from 200 to 30. Now the real war began.