12th Man to Cricket Legend

Author's Note:🏆

Hey everyone! Before we jump into today's chapter, I just wanted to say a massive thank you for reading. Your votes, comments, and support mean the world to me. Happy reading! 💖

.

.

.

If you like the story, remember to give a review. It'll motivate me to continue with same passion ✌️😁

And, Extra love to some readers who are supporting me ❤️

******

The desert heat of Dubai hung like a shimmering, oppressive veil over the stadium, but the true, suffocating spike in temperature radiated directly from the center of the pitch.

Mitchell Johnson stood poised at the apex of his run-up. His left arm swung in a slow, hypnotic pendulum motion, while his trademark horseshoe mustache twitched with predatory focus. He was a bowler who thrived on intimidation, his eyes locked onto the batsman's end.

Across the strip, the "Universe Boss" had just lumbered through for a brisk single, deliberately clearing the stage.

The canvas was now clean for the exact, high-stakes confrontation the cricketing world had spent weeks salivating over.

Rocky Rudra stepped purposefully into the crease. He deliberately starved Johnson of any eye contact, refusing to engage with the left-armer's psychological traps. Instead, he locked eyes with the umpire, his voice cutting through the ambient stadium hum—calm, firm, and precise—as he requested his center-guard measurement.

Once aligned, Rudra dug the spike of his boot deep into the surface, carving a defiant, permanent scar into the Dubai turf. He sank into his signature open stance, a posture built for maximum vision and explosive reaction.

His head remained uncannily still, resembling a statue amidst the chaos. Below, his bat—the custom wolf edition Kookaburra Kahuna—tapped a rhythmic, metronomic cadence against the ground, sounding less like a batsman getting ready, and more like a ticking countdown clock.

____

Commentary Box: The MI Civil War

Harsha Bhogle: (Voice rising with signature poetic cadence) "Oh, look at this, just look at the theater of it! It's a literal civil war in the desert, isn't it? These two were the absolute pillars of the Mumbai Indians' glory just last season. Think about it—Mitchell Johnson with five Man of the Match awards, and this young man, Rudra, right up there with four. They didn't just share a dressing room, they dismantled entire oppositions together in 2013. And now? Now, they're looking to dismantle each other. It's absolutely fascinating!"

Waqar Younis: (In his deep, gravelly, passionate tone) "It is beautiful to watch, Harsha. Absolutely beautiful. You see, Johnson knows exactly where Rudra likes it, and Rudra has faced this kind of pace in the nets a thousand times. But let me tell you, net sessions don't have this kind of electricity. This is different. This is raw, hostile cricket. This is 150 clicks plus pure ego out there."

Matthew Hayden: (Booming, authoritative Aussie drawl) "Rudra isn't blinking a single millimeter, Harsha, Waqar. Look at that setup—he's got that real 'Punter' crouch, that absolute bristle in his shoulders. He looks like a steel spring ready to snap. This isn't just another game of cricket to this kid. After that explosive interview he gave in Sharjah, you can see it in his eyes—this is a personal mission."

____

The Over: Mitchell Johnson to Rocky Rudra

0.3: Johnson to Rudra

Johnson thundered in, his delivery stride violently explosive as dust flew from the crease. The speed gun flashed an absolute venomous reading: 153 km/h.

It was a searing thunderbolt targeted directly at the ribs. Rudra's reflexes operated on pure instinct.

He refused to cede an inch of ground. Instead, he executed the classic, authoritative Ponting swivel-pull.

Remaining fractionally on the front foot to smother the bounce, his horizontal bat whipped through the air in a terrifyingly swift, violent arc.

The connection produced a devastating, metallic CRACK that echoed across the stadium. The ball didn't merely clear the ropes, it disappeared deep into the upper tiers of the mid-wicket stands.

SIX RUNS.

Matthew Hayden: (Leaning forward, practically shouting into the mic) "OH, MAMA! Get a load of that! That was 153 kilometers an hour on a green mamba and he absolutely sent it into orbit! The technical perfection of that pull shot... I mean, wow. Ricky Ponting himself would have stood up in that dugout right then, clapping his hands off for that one!"

The "Red Sea" of RCB fans erupted into a frenzy, the rhythmic, deafening chant of "RUDRA! RUDRA!" visibly vibrating the stadium infrastructure.

0.4: Johnson to Rudra

Johnson looked visibly rattled, his nostrils flaring as he stormed back to his mark. Seeking immediate redemption, he steamed in and fired a searing, toe-crushing yorker aimed right at the base of the stumps. It was a world-class delivery designed to clean up the best in the business.

But Rudra remained locked in a transcendent trance of absolute determination.

He shuffles his back foot by a micro-fraction, effortlessly opened the face of the blade, and beautifully flicked it off his toes. The timing was so breathlessly precise that the white ball screamed past the fine-leg fielder before the man could even lower his center of gravity.

FOUR RUNS.

Waqar Younis: (Laughing in pure, disbelief-fueled amazement) "Oh, come on! That was a crime, mate! You could not flick a 150-plus yorker for four like that. You just didn't do it! The boy literally played with the physics of the game right there. Exceptional!"

0.5: Johnson to Rudra - DOT BALL

Johnson pulled back his length, unleashing a venomous, cross-seam delivery that zipped sharply past the off-stump, tantalizingly close to a wide.

Rudra stood tall and chose to let it go, his eyes firmly locked on the bowler as the ball thudded into the keeper's gloves.

Instead of turning back to his mark, Johnson used his momentum to follow through, marching straight up into Rudra's personal space.

His face was flushed crimson, sweat dripping from his horseshoe mustache as he glared down at the nineteen-year-old.

"Why aren't you hitting anymore, uh, mate?" Johnson's raspy, aggressive voice was caught clearly on the stump microphone. "It weighs five ounces and it's currently moving a lot faster than your hands, mate. Want me to slow it down for you?"

Rudra said absolutely nothing. He stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly through the grill of his helmet as if the terrifying fast bowler were completely invisible.

The silent indifference was far more chilling than any verbal insult. Looking visibly frustrated, Johnson spat on the turf, turned on his heel, and stormed back to his mark.

Matthew Hayden: (Chuckling low in his throat) "Oh, Mitch is absolutely boiling over now! He tried to get inside the kid's kitchen, but Rocky just gave him the ice-cold treatment. That silent glare... that hurts a fast bowler more than any comeback line, trust me."

Harsha Bhogle: "It's psychology at its finest, isn't it? One man is a volcano ready to erupt, and the other is just a block of ice standing in the middle of the desert. This is brilliant test-match theater inside a Twenty20 game!"

0.6: Johnson to Rudra

Fuming and desperate to assert pure physical dominance, Johnson steamed in for the final delivery. He banged the ball in short, unleashing a vicious, face-high bouncer with every ounce of strength left in his tank.

Rudra anticipated the trap perfectly. He swivels cleanly, but this time injected far more lethal force into the stroke. It was a spectacular front-foot pull that intercepted the leather at the absolute peak of its bounce.

The connection was extremely flawless.

The ball soared majestically over the square-leg boundary, effortlessly cleared the massive stadium roof, and vanished completely into the dark Dubai night sky.

SIX RUNS (OUT OF THE PARK).

As the stadium descended into a complete delirium of noise, Rudra refused to celebrate.

He slowly turned his head toward Johnson, who was standing in the middle of the pitch in sheer, open-mouthed disbelief.

"Now you know what it looks like," Rudra replied with a slight, casual shrug, his voice registering calmly on the mic. "So, go find it."

Waqar Younis: (Yelling over the roaring crowd) "GOODNESS ME! It's gone! It has literally left the building! Mitchell Johnson wanted to intimidate him with a bouncer, and Rudra just hit him out of the UAE!"

Harsha Bhogle: (In absolute awe) "Words were spoken, words were answered, and now the Kings XI Punjab fielders actually have to go search for a new cricket ball in the parking lot. What a magnificent over of cricket!"

...

Commentary Box: Absolute Bedlam

Harsha Bhogle: (Bursting into delighted laughter, his voice reaching a sharp, excited pitch) "Oh, I cannot believe he just said that! 'Go find it!' Just think of the theater of it all! Mitchell Johnson—a World Cup winner, an Ashes hero, a man who terrifies batsmen for a living—just got told to go fetch the ball by a teenager! It is absolutely magnificent!"

Matthew Hayden: (Roaring with deep, booming Aussie belly laughter, slapping his desk) "Mate, that is pure gold! I'm telling you, that is absolute meme material for the next decade! The sheer audacity of the kid! The cheek! Rocky has absolutely owned this over, mentally and physically. Mitch looks completely shell-shocked out there!"

Waqar Younis: (Chuckling softly, shaking his head in absolute admiration) "He has broken him, Harsha. He has completely broken him. Look at Johnson's shoulders—they have dropped completely. That was a proper masterclass in how to handle a bully. Seventeen runs off the first over of the game against Mitchell Johnson... you just don't see that every day!"

____

Scorecard:

End of Over 1

Royal Challengers Bangalore: 17/0

Rocky Rudra: 16* (4 ball, 1x4, 2x6s, SR - 400.00.

Chris Gayle: 1* (2 balls, 0x4, 0x6, SR - 50.00

Bowler

Mitchell Johnson: Overs - 1.0-0-17-0, Econ - 17.00

.

.

.

.

(A/N: Want to read advance chapters? Check the author's note and give Power Stones ❤️)

======

By the way, don't forget to throw power stones and leave a review to motivate me 💎 :)