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Now reading: Chapter 4 4: From Barabati to Azad Maidan from 12th Man to Cricket Legend, a Action novel by IWhoMustNotBeName.

A/N: If you like the story, rember to give a review. It'll motivate to continue with sa passion ✌️😁

******

The first few days weren't about glory.

They were about the basics.

Sujit Sir didn't let Rocky hit a single ball.

Instead, he made him stand in a cramped corner of the OCA with a heavy bat, practicing the stance over and over.

"Chin down. Elbow high. Balance on the balls of your feet," Sujit would bark.

Rocky didn't complain.

While other kids his age were complaining about the heat, Rocky was like a sponge.

He didn't just hear the instructions.

He absorbed them.

By day four, his stance was so still he looked like a statue carved from Barabati stone.

On day five, Sujit finally brought out the Tennis balls.

He started with slow underarm throws, then moved to full-speed overarm hurls.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Rocky tid them all perfectly.

It was too easy.

The boy's reflexes were so sharp he was playing the shots before the ball had even crossed half the pitch.

"Too slow, Sir," Rocky said quietly, his eyes focused and calm.

Sujit Sir's eyebrows shot up.

He exchanged a look with the other coaches.

"Too slow, huh? Okay, Rocky. Let's see how you handle the real thing."

Sujit sir reached into his kit and pulled out a brand-new Season ball, the hard, heavy red cherry.

He called over a 14-year-old academy pacer who was nearly twice Rocky's size.

"Don't kill him," Sujit whispered to the bowler. "Just give him a taste of the bounce."

The bowler nodded and sprinted in.

The red ball zipped off the turf, aiming straight for Rocky's chest.

Most 10-year-olds would have dropped the bat and run.

But Rocky's ego took over.

He didn't just rember the stance.

He rembered the feeling of the weight shift Sujit had taught him yesterday.

Rocky didn't flinch an inch.

Judging the speed of the ball, he shifted his weight effortlessly to his backfoot.

Sujit Sir had only ntioned the 'Backfoot Pull' once in passing, but Rocky executed it as if he had been practicing it for years.

THWACK!

The hard leather ball t the dead center of the bat.

It took off like a rocket, screaming into the sky and landing over the boundary.

Sujit Sir couldn't believe his eyes.

"That's not just talent," Sujit sir whispered, his lips twitched slightly as he marked his clipboard.

"That's a prodigy."

___

Then Through Sujit Sir's recomndation, Rocky entered the academy free of cost.

He didn't just play. He dominated.

At 14, he was terrorizing the U-19 bowlers.

By 16, he was the backbone of the odisha U-23 squad.

Every prize-money check from local tournants went straight into Grandma Rita's hands.

He beca a legend in the local circles, known for "The Punter Style" long before he ever t the man himself.

___

At 17, Cuttack had beco too small for Rocky's ambitions.

Sujit Sir knew that if Rocky stayed in the local circles, he would be a big fish in a small pond.

Using his old connections from his playing days, Sujit arranged for Rocky to move to the "Maximum City", "the Holy land of cricket", Mumbai.

"Odisha gave you the spark, Rocky," Sujit sir said, his voice barely carrying over the hiss of the train's brakes.

He gripped Rocky's shoulder, a firm, grounding weight.

"But Mumbai? That place will turn you into a fla."

He leaned in, making sure Rocky was looking him in the eye.

"Go to Azad Maidan. Don't just play! Find the grit! That's where you'll find out who you really are."

After a tearful goodbye to his grandmother and Sujit sir, Rocky arrived in Mumbai with nothing but a single kit bag and the address of a small, cramped room in Dadar.

For one grueling year, he beca a "Maidan Grinder."

He played for a local club in the Mumbai A-Division league, facing bowlers who were faster, aner, and more experienced than anyone he had seen in his hotown.

He didn't have the luxury of an academy anymore.

He survived on Vada Pav and determination.

He beca a professional nomad, playing local Kanga League matches and T20 tournants across the city's dusty grounds.

It was during a high-stakes club match at the Wankhede Stadium, a curtain-raiser before an IPL practice session, that fate finally blinked.

John Wright, the legendary Mumbai Indians scout, now head coach and forr India coach, was sitting in the stands with a notepad.

He wasn't there to watch Rocky.

He was there to scout a seasoned dostic player, especially after unearthing Jasprit Bumrah in Syed Mushtaq Ali Trophy.

But he couldn't take his eyes off the 18-year-old at all.

He saw a kid who moved like a panther and batted with a backfoot punch that looked like a mirror image of Ricky Ponting.

Wright didn't need to see the scorecard.

He turned to his assistant and pointed.

"Who is the kid in the blue cap? The one who just hit the pull shot for six?"

"Na is Rocky Rudra, sir. From Odisha. Playing his first season in Mumbai."

Wright closed his notebook and stood up.

"Get him. I want him in the MI camp by tomorrow morning."

=====

Please vote and give a review if you like the novel 💎

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

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