Chapter 45: Time skip
[ okey this Chapter became trash,i wanted to show a good time skip write a good Chapter but, im short on time , so i’ll rewriting this Chapter tomorrow ]
The white tape around Raghav’s index finger had split open during his third over of the morning, leaving a sticky pink smear across the rough leather seam of the ball. He stood at the pavilion end of the Wankhede Stadium, his right shoulder throbbing with every breath.
Across the ground, the stadium horn speakers hissed with static as the local commentator adjusted his microphone.
"Welcome back to the final morning of this MCA Under-14 Zonal Championship Final. It has been an absolute trial of endurance here at the Wankhede. North Zone resume their second innings on Day 5 at 196 for 3. Their captain, Kabir, is out there at the crease on 82. South Zone are staring at a massive, near-impossible mountain here, trailing by an overall deficit of 512 runs."
Raghav wiped the sweat from his forehead with his forearm, his eyes locked onto the crease. Kabir stood perfectly upright, tapping his bat twice against the dusty clay. He was thirteen years and nine months old, but he didn’t possess the awkward, slouching frame of the other junior players. His weight was balanced entirely on the balls of his feet, his blue helmet pulled down low over his eyes.
Raghav gripped the ball tighter, his teeth grinding as he started his twelve-step run-up.
Over 54.1
Raghav slammed his front foot into the crease, launching a heavy, effort-ball bouncer straight at Kabir’s chest. On a fifth-day Mumbai wicket, a short ball usually skidded or climbed unpredictably. Kabir didn’t back away toward the leg side. He anticipated the length, shifted his weight back onto his right heel, and rolled his wrists over the handle with sudden, explosive core rotation.
Crack.
The sound was sharp and dry, echoing off the empty concrete stands of the stadium. The ball didn’t just clear the short boundary; it sailed cleanly over the square-leg ropes and rattled against the plastic seats of the lower tier.
"A phenomenal start to the morning for North Zone!" the commentator’s voice blared over the speakers. "Raghav goes short, trying to test the young captain early on Day 5, but Kabir handles it with absolute authority. That has cleared the ropes easily for a six. The lead jumps to 518."
Raghav stood at the end of his follow-through, his chest heaving as he waited for the ball to be thrown back from the stands.
54.2
"Keep it wide, Raghav! Outside the off-stump!" the South Zone wicketkeeper shouted, slapping his gloves together.
Raghav adjusted his line, running in to bowl a quicker, back-of-a-length delivery on the fourth-stump line. Kabir didn’t offer a full swing. He waited for the ball to rise off the deck, relaxed his bottom hand to cushion the impact, and opened the face of the bat at the last microsecond. The ball zipped right between the first slip and short third man.
"Two! Push for two!" Kabir’s voice was sharp and commanding. He covered the 22 yards with rapid, athletic strides, turning tightly at the non-striker’s crease to slide his bat home before the deep fielder’s throw reached the keeper. His score moved to 90.
54.3
Raghav tried to slip in a fast yorker to catch him tracking forward, but the ball slipped from his sweaty fingers, landing as a low full-toss on middle stump. Kabir didn’t look to lift it over the infield. He kept his head completely still, his left elbow pointing directly toward the sightscreen as he executed a classic straight drive.
Tock.
The timing was completely clean. The ball traveled straight past Raghav’s right boot, beating the mid-on fielder before he could even drop his knees into the dirt. It slammed into the boundary boards for four. Kabir was on 94.
54.4
Under the white pavilion umbrellas, the high-ranking MCA selection committee coaches pulled their clipboards closer, their eyes fixed entirely on the crease. Raghav felt the heat of the sun pressing into his neck. He delivered a shorter, defensive ball well wide of the off-stump, hoping for a loose chase. Kabir simply stepped across his stumps and dead-batted the leather right back to Raghav. No run.
54.5
Raghav went flat and fast, targeting the pads to tie the batsman down. Kabir flicked his wrists with mechanical precision, working the ball fine of the short fine-leg fielder. "Two," Kabir called immediately, forcing his partner into a frantic sprint. They crossed easily as the outfielders scrambled to clean up the ball.
The double took Kabir to 96.
54.6
The final ball of the over. Raghav put every remaining ounce of his physical strength into a hard-length delivery. The ball hit a wide crack in the center of the turf and jagged inward sharply. Kabir read the deflection instantly. He stepped forward to smother the bounce before the crack could alter its trajectory, punching the ball through the wide gap between extra cover and mid-off.
The ball split the infielders, racing across the dry grass until it hit the boundary ropes with a loud thud.
"And that is the century!" the speaker blared through the static. "A masterclass in junior batting! Kabir reaches his hundred on Day 5 with a pristine boundary off Raghav. A double century in the first innings, and now a hundred in the second. The North Zone captain has single-handedly dismantled the South Zone bowling attack over these five days."
Behind the wire grill of his helmet, Kabir watched Raghav walk back to his fielding position with his head down. Kabir raised his bat slightly toward the North Zone dugout, his face completely expressionless.
[System Notification: Sachin Tendulkar Template — 35% Unlocked]
[System Notification: Wasim Akram Template — 35% Unlocked]
The blue text flickered briefly in the corner of his vision before dissolving into the red soil of the pitch. At thirteen years and nine months, his body felt stable, built by four years of strict running tracks, swimming laps, and a relentless diet of sprouts and eggs. His breathing remained completely even.
"No silly shots now," Kabir told his partner as they met for a brief mid-over chat. "The lead is 532. The pitch is cracking at both ends. We bat defensively till lunch, wear their bowlers down completely, and then we put them in. No risks."
For the next two hours, the aggressive boundaries stopped completely. Every time the South Zone spinners tried to exploit the rough patches near the cracks, Kabir either stepped out to block the ball on the half-volley or stayed deep inside his crease to dead-bat it into the dust. He picked up singles with boring, mechanical accuracy, frustrating the fielders until they stopped chirping entirely.
By the time the umpires called for the lunch break, North Zone had reached 290 for 5. Kabir walked off the field unbeaten on 134 not out. He didn’t unbuckle his pads in the dressing room. He walked straight to the team strategy board.
"We declare now," Kabir said to his bowlers, his voice cutting through the noise of the boys unpacking their lunch boxes. "The lead is 606. The afternoon heat will make the cracks wider. We have exactly two sessions to take ten wickets. Get ready."
The sun was blinding when South Zone began their impossible chase of 606 runs. The pitch looked parched, white, and lethal.
Kabir took the brand-new red ball from the umpire. He stood at the top of his mark, his fingers feeling the thick, prominent seam of the leather. With his Akram template at 35%, his understanding of the ball’s aerodynamics was precise. He took his seven sharp steps and hit the crease with a high, snapping arm action.
1.1
Kabir slammed the ball back-of-a-length. It lifted sharply off a patch, jagging back into the opening batsman’s ribs. The batsman lowered his hands awkwardly, the ball hitting his thumb guard with a heavy smack. No run.
1.2
Kabir used the same short length but delivered it with a scrambled seam. The ball skidded low off the clay, passing under the bat to hit the front pad. No run.
1.3
Kabir ran in smoothly, releasing a fast, full outswinger that bent away late through the air. The batsman lunged forward to defend and missed it completely. The ball landed safely in the keeper’s gloves.
1.4
The ball was scuffed on one side from the rough outfield grass. Kabir rubbed his sweat into the shiny side and angled the seam toward the slips. He ran in and released it. Through the air, the ball started to swing outward, looking identical to the last one. The batsman lunged to drive it through covers, but halfway down the pitch, the ball caught the reverse-swing friction. It jagged violently inward, sneaking through the gap between bat and pad.
Clack.
The off-stump was ripped cleanly out of the ground, flying backward five yards into the dirt.
"Bowled him!" the stadium commentator shouted into his microphone. "Absolute perfection from Kabir! He sets him up with three consecutive outswingers and then brings back the reverse-swinging inswinger to shatter the off-stump. South Zone lose their first wicket for zero runs!"
Kabir bowled an absolute marathon ten-over spell on the trot. In his seventh over, he used a rising bouncer that caught the batsman’s gloves, flying straight to second slip for a simple catch. His final bowling figures for the spell were: 10 overs, 5 maidens, 14 runs, 2 wickets.
The intense pressure broke South Zone completely. Forced to block Kabir, they tried to attack the North Zone spinners and collapsed under the blazing afternoon sun. Wickets tumbled every three overs.
By 4:30 PM, the final South Zone tailender missed a straight ball from the regular fast bowler. The leg-stump was flattened into the dust.
South Zone was bowled out for 182. North Zone had won the MCA Under-14 Zonal Final by an astronomical margin of 423 runs.
The presentation ceremony was held on the main lawn in front of the club members’ pavilion. The silver champions’ shield sat on a red velvet cloth, glittering under the late afternoon sun.
"And now, for the individual honors," the announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium speakers. "The Player of the Tournament, for an unprecedented double-century and a twin hundred in the final, alongside seven wickets in the match... Kabir of North Zone!"
The North Zone boys went wild, lifting Kabir onto their shoulders as they carried him toward the presentation table.
As Kabir assignment stepped down, holding the heavy silver shield against his chest, a tall man with a sharp jawline and an official BCCI blazer walked out from the selector’s tent. It was the head scouting coach for the Mumbai State junior teams. He walked straight over to Kabir and placed a firm, heavy hand on his shoulder.
"I watched you four years ago at Azad Maidan, kid," the scouting coach said, his voice low and serious. "Back then, Achrekar told me you were too small for the workload. I thought he was just hiding you from the system. But looking at you today, he was right. You didn’t just score runs this week; you managed your body like a veteran Ranji player. Your fitness is miles ahead of every boy on this field."
The coach leaned down slightly, his eyes locked onto Kabir’s face. "The Mumbai Under-16 Vijay Merchant squad goes to camp next month. The selection trials are usually closed to Under-14 players. But your name is already on my clipboard. Don’t waste this winter. The real cricket starts now."
"Thank you, Sir," Kabir said, shaking his hand firmly.
As the coach walked away into the pavilion, Kabir looked down at his dusty shoes. A deep blue interface expanded across his vision, the numbers spinning rapidly before locking into place.
Kabir closed the interface. He looked back at his teammates who were dancing around the silver shield in the dirt. He was thirteen, his body was completely healthy, and the gates to first-class cricket had finally swung wide open.