Cricket Ascend System

The team bus rolled through the iron gates just after sunrise.

Sahil looked out of the window as the stadium slowly came into view.

It was bigger than anything he had ever played in.

Three large concrete stands surrounded the ground.

Bright white sight screens stood at either end of the pitch.

Electronic scoreboards towered above the pavilion, while the Himachal Pradesh Cricket Association flag fluttered gently beside the national flag.

For a few seconds...

Nobody inside the bus spoke.

Every player simply stared.

This...

Was state cricket.

---

The bus stopped beside the players’ entrance.

One after another, the squad climbed down carrying heavy kit bags.

The smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the cool mountain breeze.

Ground staff hurried across the outfield.

Television cameras were already being assembled near the commentary box.

Volunteers painted fresh white crease lines onto the pitch.

Everything looked professional.

Everything felt bigger.

---

Sahil paused for a moment before entering the pavilion.

His eyes drifted toward the HPCA crest embroidered on his navy-blue blazer.

Just a few months ago...

He had been another district cricketer hoping someone would notice him.

Now...

He belonged to the Himachal Pradesh Under-19 squad.

Not the Playing XI.

Not yet.

But he belonged.

He gently touched the badge before following the rest of the team inside.

---

The dressing room buzzed with quiet activity.

Each locker carried a player’s name.

Folded neatly inside lay the official match jersey.

White trousers.

Blue cap.

Training shirt.

Even the smallest details carried professionalism.

Sahil opened his locker slowly.

There it was.

His first official Himachal Pradesh match jersey.

He carefully lifted it from the shelf.

Running his fingers across the fabric.

Across the embroidered crest.

Across his own name printed on the back.

For a brief second...

He forgot everything else.

This wasn’t just clothing.

It was proof.

Proof that countless mornings of training.

Countless failures.

Countless sacrifices...

Had been worth something.

---

"You’ll wear it soon."

The voice came quietly from behind.

Coach Kapoor.

Sahil turned.

"I hope so, sir."

Coach smiled.

"Hope."

He folded his arms.

"Is good."

"Preparation..."

Another pause.

"...is better."

---

The players changed into their training kits before heading toward the warm-up area.

The outfield looked even larger from ground level.

Every blade of grass had been cut to the same height.

The boundary rope stretched far into the distance.

Sahil bounced lightly on his feet while stretching.

His heart beat a little faster than usual.

Not from fear.

From excitement.

Even if he didn’t play today...

He wanted to absorb everything.

---

Coach Rana blew his whistle.

"Meeting."

The squad immediately gathered in a semicircle near the pavilion.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Conversations disappeared.

Every player understood what came next.

The Playing XI.

---

Coach Rana unfolded a single sheet of paper.

"I won’t waste time."

He looked around calmly.

"You all know selection is based on conditions."

He pointed toward the pitch.

"Green surface."

"Morning moisture."

"We’re choosing accordingly."

Nobody interrupted.

---

"The opening batsmen..."

He began reading.

"Arjun Mehra."

"Aryan Malhotra."

Exactly as expected.

The names continued.

Kabir.

Rohan.

Vivaan.

Ishaan.

One after another.

The familiar faces stepped forward.

Sahil remained still.

Not because he expected anything.

Because somewhere...

Deep inside...

A tiny part of him still hoped.

---

Coach Rana read the tenth name.

Then...

The eleventh.

Silence followed.

He folded the paper.

"The substitutes..."

He looked briefly toward the remaining four players.

"Sahil Choudhary."

The words landed quietly.

No surprise.

No shock.

Just...

A familiar feeling.

Again.

---

For the briefest moment, disappointment flashed across Sahil’s face.

He had imagined hearing his name among the starters.

Imagined walking onto the field with a bat in his hand.

Instead...

He nodded once.

"Yes, sir."

Coach Rana held his gaze for a second longer.

"Stay ready."

"I will."

---

The warm-up began immediately.

The Playing XI worked through catching drills.

Slip practice.

Throw-downs.

Batting routines.

The substitutes helped wherever needed.

Sahil threw balls to Kabir during his warm-up.

Collected balls after batting drills.

Carried spare equipment between practice stations.

Nobody treated him poorly.

Nobody ignored him.

Yet...

Watching instead of playing still hurt.

---

Danish jogged over carrying a crate of drinks.

"Looks like we’re on water-duty."

Sahil smiled weakly.

"Again."

Danish sighed dramatically.

"I’ve become the fastest drinks carrier in Himachal."

That earned a laugh from Sahil.

Only a small one.

---

Soon...

The toss took place.

Himachal won.

Arjun chose to bat first.

The players ran onto the field as applause echoed around the stadium.

Sahil stood near the boundary rope with the substitute bib folded over one arm.

Watching.

Waiting.

---

The opening overs were tense.

The new ball moved sharply.

Arjun remained calm.

He left confidently outside off stump.

Defended patiently.

Punished only genuine mistakes.

Standing just outside the boundary, Sahil watched every movement.

Every leave.

Every forward defence.

Every single.

Coach Kapoor had been right.

Control looked almost invisible.

Yet it quietly dictated the entire innings.

---

An hour later...

A wicket fell.

The number three batsman edged behind.

The pavilion door opened.

The next batsman walked out.

Not Sahil.

He wasn’t even allowed to pick up a bat.

Instead...

He picked up the drinks tray.

The twelfth man signaled toward him.

"Water."

Sahil nodded.

Running onto the field between overs.

He handed bottles to Arjun and the new batsman.

"How’s the pitch?"

Arjun removed his helmet briefly.

"Slower now."

He smiled.

"Watch carefully."

"You’ll bat here one day."

Before Sahil could answer...

The umpire called time.

He jogged back toward the boundary.

Still carrying the empty tray.

---

The innings continued.

Arjun crafted another composed fifty.

Kabir struck quick boundaries lower down the order.

The bowlers defended the total brilliantly.

From the boundary rope, Sahil applauded every wicket.

Celebrated every catch.

Encouraged every teammate.

Outwardly...

He looked like every supportive squad member should.

Inwardly...

Something else was growing.

The frustration.

The same frustration he had once felt during district cricket.

Watching.

Waiting.

Wondering when his chance would finally come.

As Himachal completed a convincing victory, the players embraced each other near the pitch.

Sahil smiled and congratulated every teammate.

But as he looked across the stadium...

Only one thought echoed quietly inside his mind.

How much longer do I have to wait?

The celebrations continued long after the final wicket.

Players laughed.

The support staff shook hands.

Journalists gathered near the boundary, waiting to interview Arjun after his composed half-century.

Sahil applauded with everyone else.

He smiled.

Congratulated his teammates.

But when the cameras turned away...

The smile quietly disappeared.

---

The team bus was unusually lively on the return journey.

Kabir sat beside the window, headphones around his neck.

Danish dramatically reenacted one of the catches.

"I swear," he declared, standing in the aisle despite the moving bus, "if I were fielding there, I would’ve made it look even better."

"You weren’t fielding," Kabir reminded him.

"You were carrying towels."

The entire bus burst into laughter.

Even Coach Rana smiled.

Everyone laughed.

Except Sahil.

He stared out of the window.

The passing mountains blurred together.

---

Coach Kapoor noticed.

He always noticed.

He didn’t say anything.

Not yet.

---

That evening, while the Playing XI attended recovery sessions with the physio, the substitutes were told to complete an optional net session.

Optional.

The word irritated Sahil.

For the players who had spent the day on the bench...

Nothing about training felt optional.

He was already wearing his pads before anyone else arrived.

---

The indoor nets echoed with the familiar sound of leather striking willow.

Tok.

Tok.

Tok.

Coach Kapoor stood behind the bowling machine.

Without a word, he increased the speed.

135 km/h.

The deliveries climbed awkwardly toward Sahil’s chest.

He defended.

Again.

Again.

Again.

The machine fired another.

Outside off stump.

Leave.

Another.

Straight drive.

Another.

Defensive block.

No flashy shots.

Only repetition.

---

Twenty minutes later...

The coach finally pressed the stop button.

Silence filled the indoor centre.

"Sahil."

"Yes, sir."

"Were you angry today?"

Sahil lowered his eyes.

"A little."

Coach Kapoor nodded.

"Good."

The answer surprised him.

Coach continued.

"I’d be worried if you weren’t."

---

He walked onto the pitch.

"The question isn’t whether you’re frustrated."

He picked up a cricket ball.

"The question is..."

He tossed it gently toward Sahil.

"...what you do with that frustration."

Sahil caught it instinctively.

---

Coach Kapoor sat on one of the practice boxes.

"When I played Ranji Trophy..."

He smiled faintly.

"...I spent my first six matches carrying drinks."

Sahil looked up.

"You did?"

Coach laughed.

"I was the best drinks carrier in the squad."

For the first time that evening...

Sahil smiled.

---

"I hated it."

Coach admitted honestly.

"I questioned the selectors."

"I questioned myself."

"I even thought about quitting."

The words hung heavily in the air.

"But my coach told me something I’ll never forget."

He looked directly at Sahil.

> ’The bench is either a prison... or a classroom. You decide which one it becomes.’

---

Those words settled deep inside Sahil.

A prison.

Or a classroom.

He replayed today’s match in his mind.

Arjun leaving difficult deliveries.

Rotating strike.

Talking calmly between overs.

Studying bowlers instead of attacking every ball.

Had he been watching...

Or learning?

---

Coach Kapoor continued.

"Tell me."

"What did Arjun do during the first spell?"

Sahil answered immediately.

"He left almost everything outside off."

"Why?"

"Because the ball was swinging."

Coach nodded.

"What else?"

"He never chased wide deliveries."

"What else?"

"He kept talking to his partner."

"What else?"

"He made the bowlers change their lengths."

Coach smiled.

"You noticed all that?"

Sahil blinked.

Without realizing it...

He had.

Coach stood.

"Then today wasn’t wasted."

---

That night...

The hotel balcony overlooked the floodlit stadium.

Most players had already gone to sleep.

Sahil remained outside alone.

The cool mountain air brushed gently against his face.

He held his bat across his knees.

His thoughts drifted back.

District cricket.

Substitute.

Waiting.

Opportunity.

Champion.

Now...

History seemed to be repeating itself.

The level had changed.

The feeling hadn’t.

---

A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Couldn’t sleep?"

It was Arjun.

The captain walked onto the balcony carrying two paper cups of tea.

He handed one to Sahil.

"Thanks."

For several minutes...

Neither of them spoke.

They simply looked toward the silent stadium.

Finally, Arjun broke the silence.

"I know what you’re thinking."

Sahil gave a small smile.

"Do you?"

"I’ve been there."

That answer caught him off guard.

---

"My first state season..."

Arjun continued quietly.

"...I wasn’t even the twelfth man."

Sahil turned.

"I travelled with the squad because one player was injured."

He laughed softly.

"I spent three matches scoring hundreds against bowling machines."

Another pause.

"Not bowlers."

"Machines."

---

"So how did you become captain?"

Arjun looked toward the empty ground.

"When my chance finally came..."

He smiled.

"...I was already prepared."

Another silence.

"Opportunity doesn’t wait while you get ready."

"It arrives."

"You either are ready..."

"...or you aren’t."

---

Those words stayed with Sahil long after Arjun returned inside.

He looked down at his own hands.

Calluses.

Blisters.

Tiny scars earned through years of practice.

They weren’t the hands of someone waiting.

They were the hands of someone preparing.

---

As midnight approached, a familiar blue screen shimmered into existence.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

SYSTEM UPDATE

Mental Toughness increased.

+2

Reason:

Accepted disappointment without losing motivation.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

NEW PASSIVE TRAIT UNLOCKED

Observer’s Eye — Level 1

While on the bench or watching teammates bat:

• Increased learning from observation.

• Improved recognition of bowling patterns.

• Enhanced tactical awareness.

"Every innings watched becomes a lesson."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

BONUS OBJECTIVE UPDATED

Debut Opportunity

Status: Unknown

Condition: Stay Ready

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The screen slowly faded.

Sahil smiled.

For the first time since missing the Playing XI...

The frustration no longer felt heavy.

It felt useful.

He stood, picked up his bat, and looked once more toward the silent stadium.

Somewhere...

His chance was coming.

He didn’t know when.

He didn’t know how.

But when that moment arrived...

He would make sure no one ever asked him to carry drinks again.