Author's Note:🏆
On readers' demand. I'm doing this for the first ti...
Weekly Power Stone ♦️ Goals:
100 ♦️ PS: 1 Bonus Chapter
250♦️ PS: 2 Bonus Chapters
500♦️ PS: 4 Bonus Chapters
Let's see how far we can climb this week! 🚀
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******
The atmosphere at Sawai Mansingh Stadium had reached boiling point.
Forty thousand voices rged into a single, thunderous roar that vibrated through the concrete stands.
Floodlights cut through the rapidly darkening Rajasthan sky, painting everything in a dramatic purple-gold hue.
Flags waved wildly, pink for Rajasthan, blue for Mumbai.
The air slled of dust, sweat, popcorn, and pure electricity.
This wasn't just another match. It felt like the birth of sothing fierce.
The Mumbai Indians openers were about to walk out when the television caras zood in on a tense, private huddle near the boundary rope.
Ricky Ponting had his hand clamped firmly on young Rocky Rudra's shoulder, their faces inches apart.
The Australian's jaw was locked, eyes blazing with that trademark "White Lightning" intensity.
This wasn't a gentle pep talk. This was fire eting fire.
___
Ponting's grip tightened, fingers digging into the boy's shoulder pad. His voice was low, urgent, almost growling.
"Rocky, why the hell are you holding back? Is it the caras? The dia? All these legends staring at you?"
Rocky t his gaze without flinching, jaw set tight.
Ponting leaned closer.
"Watson and Faulkner will co at you hard. They'll sledge you, bounce you, try to bully you out of your rhythm. That's exactly how I taught them. That's how we played, no rcy. Don't expect respect just because you scored in the IPL. They'll try to break you."
He stared deep into the boy's eyes.
"The dia will praise you today and crucify you tomorrow if you fail. Don't play for them. Don't play for . Don't even play for Sachin. Play for that fire you showed in the nets at 5 AM, the one that made you smash balls like you hated them. If you want to carry this team, then stop being polite. Take what is yours. Unleash it."
Ponting's voice dropped to a fierce whisper.
"Go out there and show them that fire."
___
The Comntary Box, Star Cricket
Harsha Bhogle's voice crackled with excitent.
"Look at this! Ricky Ponting has young Rocky Rudra pinned near the ropes. That is no ordinary conversation. Ponting looks absolutely ferocious, he's pointing at the pitch, gesturing at the Rajasthan dugout!"
Sourav Ganguly, chuckling but clearly impressed: "Classic Punter. He's provoking the boy, not comforting him. Look at Rocky's face, he isn't shrinking. He's absorbing every word like a sponge. Most 18-year-olds would crumble under that stare, but this kid… he's different."
Sunil Gavaskar, asured yet animated:
"Whatever Ponting is saying, it's working. You can see the shift in Rocky's posture. Shoulders up, eyes sharp. In T20, you either attack or get attacked. Ponting knows Watson better than anyone. He's clearly telling the boy to stop being nice."
___
Ponting finally released his shoulder and gave him a sharp, open-pald slap on the back.
"Go," Ponting growled, a proud glint in his eyes. "Show them the fire."
Rocky turned slowly.
Waiting just a few steps away, helt already on, was Sachin Tendulkar.
The Master Blaster stood like a quiet guardian, bat tucked under his arm.
For a mont, their eyes t.
Sachin didn't say much, he rarely did in these monts, but the look he gave Rocky carried decades of wisdom, quiet belief, and the weight of a billion dreams.
Ready?" Sachin asked, voice soft but steady.
"Ready, Paaji," Rocky replied, voice calm but laced with steel.
As they walked across the boundary rope together, the stadium erupted.
The roar was deafening, waves of "Sachin! Sachin!" crashing against the rising chants of "Rocky! Rocky!"
But Rocky didn't look at the crowd.
He didn't glance at Shane Watson, who was already at the top of his mark, scuffing the crease aggressively.
Instead, Rocky stopped for a brief second at the edge of the pitch.
He looked up at the deep royal-purple Jaipur sky, jaw clenched, breathing steady.
'This fire isn't for the roaring crowd. It isn't for Ricky's words or the caras waiting to judge . It's for that cold night on the doorstep. For the second life I was given. For every single person who ever doubted an 18-year-old could stand here. I'll show that I'm not here to survive. I'm here to dominate..'
His eyes narrowed with pure, burning determination.
No hesitation.
No doubt. Only raw hunger.
He took his guard. Bat tapping the crease once. Twice. The wood felt alive in his hands.
Shane Watson began his powerful run-up, eyes locked on the young opener like a predator.
The polite 18-year-old was gone.
The Rudra had awakened.
___
The Sawai Mansingh Stadium was no longer just a cricket ground.
It was a pressure cooker about to explode.
As Rocky Rudra walked toward the striker's end, the silence from the "Pink City" crowd was eerie, broken only by the sharp clap of Shane Watson's hands.
Watson stood at the top of his mark, his massive fra casting a shadow.
He didn't just look like a bowler. He looked like a wall.
He had seen the footage of the Buchi Babu massacre, IPL matches and he wasn't buying the hype.
Anyone can have a good season then get exposed with targeted tactics.
Yeah, he wasn't buying it.
Over 1: Shane Watson to Rocky Rudra
Ball 1: Watson stead in and delivered a 145kph snorter that pitched on a length and jagged back sharply.
It was an absolute peach, a ball that would have troubled the best in the world.
Rocky leaned forward to defend, but the ball zipped past the inside edge, missing the off-stump by a coat of varnish.
The wicketkeeper, Yagnik, gathered it and let out a piercing "YOOO!"
Watson didn't walk back.
He followed his follow-through right into Rocky's face.
"Buchi Babu is over, kid. You're in the big boy's league now. Go back to your grandma," Watson growled, his sweat dripping onto the pitch.
The Rajasthan fielders sward in.
Ajinkya Rahane and Stuart Binny were clapping sarcastically.
"Nice leave, Rocky! Do it again!"
Rocky didn't look down. He didn't even adjust his gloves.
He stood his ground, his eyes locked onto Watson's. There was no fear, only a cold, predatory stillness.
"Don't waste my ti, Wattu," Rocky said, his voice a low, dangerous rasp that cut through the noise. "Bowl the next one. I'm waiting."
___
In the Comntary Box:
Harsha Bhogle: "Oh, things are heating up here! Watson is in the youngster's face, and Rocky Rudra isn't backing down! This is spicy, Sourav! The kid has a bit of the devil in him!"
Sourav Ganguly nodded slightly but he didn't speak but you could see his left fist was clenched.
___
Ball 2: Watson, fueled by the ego of a champion, went for the sa length, trying to blast him out.
Rocky didn't defend.
He moved his front foot just a fraction and played the most exquisite Ponting-style pull over mid-wicket.
The sound was like a thunderclap. The ball disappeared into the second tier of the stands.
6 Runs.
Ball 3: Watson, rattled, went fuller and wider.
Rocky leaned into it. A classic cover drive?
No. It was a punch-drive.
He hit it with such horizontal force that the sweeper cover didn't even move.
4 Runs.
Ball 4: Watson tried a slower ball bouncer to cramp him. Rocky saw the change in pace instantly.
He waited, pivoted on his back foot, and hooked it behind square.
The ball hit the boundary boards before Watson had even finished his follow-through.
4 Runs.
Ball 5: The crowd was now chanting "Rocky! Rocky!" as Watson looked toward Dravid for help.
After so discussion with the skip, he went for a searing yorker.
Rocky anticipated it. He moved his front leg out of the way and flicked it from outside off-stump to the fine-leg boundary.
Pure wrist-work. Pure arrogance.
4 Runs.
Ball 6: The final ball. Watson was fuming.
He threw everything into a cross-seam short ball aid at the helt.
This was the "Punter" mont. Rocky stood tall, eyes wide, and smashed a flat-bat pull straight over the bowler's head.
It cleared the sight-screen and landed in the parking lot.
A monstrous 6.
24 Runs in the first over of the CLT20 with first ball being 0.
___
Over 1 Summary:
Ball 1: 0 (The unplayable miss)
Ball 2: 6 (The pull shot)
Ball 3: 4 (The punch-drive)
Ball 4: 4 (The hook shot)
Ball 5: 4 (The wristy flick)
Ball 6: 6 (The lofted flat-bat pull)
___
In the Comntary Box
Harsha Bhogle: "24 runs! Against the best all-rounder in the world! Sachin Tendulkar is at the other end just smiling, leaning on his bat, watching the show. He knows. We all know now. This isn't just a youngster having a good day. This is a strategic takeover."
Sourav Ganguly: "I am speechless! I have never seen Shane Watson dismantled like this in the opening over of a tournant. This isn't just batting. This is an eviction notice! Rocky Rudra has arrived, and he's brought the Australian aggression back to the Australians!"
Sunil Gavaskar: "I take back my doubts. You don't hit Shane Watson for 24 runs by accident. Look at Ricky Ponting in the dugout, he's got a grin from ear to ear! The Aussies must be feeling exactly what the rest of the world felt for 15 years facing their 'Punter.' The shadow has beco the sun!"
Rocky Rudra stood at the non-striker's end as the over finished. He didn't celebrate. He didn't pump his fists.
He just adjusted his gloves, tapped his bat on the crease, and looked at the scoreboard with a professional clinicality.
Scorecard:
MI: 24/0 (1.0 Over)
Rocky Rudra: 24* (6 balls)
He looked at Watson, who was walking past him to his fielding position with a shell-shocked expression.
Rocky didn't say a word.
He just gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, the kind of nod a hunter gives when the first trap has worked perfectly.
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