A/N: If you like the story, rember to give a review. It'll motivate to continue with sa passion ✌️😁
Also, please understand that this is my original novel so it's completely different from the translated one about NBA. For this one, I have to think, write, check the official stats, rules, matches.... everything. So, the original novels in site, words counts are always within 1k-2k but I'm trying to slowly increase the words counts as we go on. Please understand and don't forget to give this book a review 🥹🙏
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Rudra didn't hesitate.
He didn't take the extra second to steady himself.
In one fluid, twisting motion, he unfurled a throw. The black thread on his wrist flickered as his arm whipped forward.
The ball left his hand like it had been shot from a cannon. It didn't arc.
It traveled in a perfectly straight, horizontal line, three inches above the grass.
THWACK!
The ball smashed into the base of the stumps at the non-striker's end.
The stadium fell into a deathly silence.
Kohli was mid-air, his bat stretched out in a desperate lunging dive.
The square-leg umpire's eyes were glued to the crease.
"Third Umpire!"
The giant screen flickered: [DECISION PENDING]
The replays started rolling.
Fra by fra. Kohli's bat was centiters away from the line when the bails lit up.
"If this is out, Harsha, this stadium might actually go silent for the first ti in history," Danny whispered.
The final fra showed Kohli's bat touching the line just as the bails were dislodged.
[NOT OUT]
Kohli stood up, dusting the soil off his jersey.
___
The giant screen at the Chinnaswamy flashed the word [NOT OUT] in bright green letters.
The relief from the Bengaluru crowd was a physical wave of sound, a roar so loud it felt like it was rattling the stumps.
Virat Kohli stood up at the non-striker's end, his heart hamring against his ribs.
He was covered in the fine, red dust of the pitch, a smudge across his thigh pad and a streak on his forearm.
He looked at the base of the stumps where the ball had just exploded against the wood, then slowly turned his head to look at the boy at Backward Point.
Rudra was standing there, his hands on his knees.
To the caras, he looked like a statue, but internally, his chest was tight.
He could feel his own pulse thumping in his throat.
That was Virat Kohli.
The man he'd watched on a flickering TV in Cuttack, whose every cover drive he'd tried to dissect in the nets.
He'd just made his idol dive for his life, and the adrenaline was making his fingers tremble.
He tucked his hand into his pocket for a split second to hide it, his thumb brushing the frayed thread on his wrist.
[RCB Innings: 4.3 Overs | Score: 24/1]
Ricky Ponting, standing at Mid-off, took a few steps toward the pitch.
He adjusted his cap, his eyes moving between the shaken Kohli and the silent 18-year-old.
Ponting didn't say anything to Rudra yet, but he pointed a finger toward the off-side, signaling him to stay "on the hunt."
Ball 4.4: Jasprit Bumrah, energized by the near-wicket, stead in.
He delivered a fast, skidding delivery to Chris Gayle.
The big man, sensing the tension, just blocked it toward Point.
It was a simple ball, but Kohli, still at the non-striker's end was already halfway out of his crease, his eyes locked on Rudra.
He was testing him, daring him to co forward.
Rudra didn't flinch.
He just watched the ball, refusing to be baited into a wild throw.
Gayle held up a massive hand, "Wait, Virat!"
Kohli retreated, his eyes never leaving Rudra.
Ball 4.5: Bumrah went full and wide. Gayle unleashed a powerful, flat-batted slap through the off-side.
It was a vicious shot, the kind that usually results in a boundary and a fielder with a bruised hand.
Rudra moved with a crossover step that felt like instinct.
He didn't think about the system gift, he just didn't want to let the team down in front of Ponting and Sachin.
He launched into a low, horizontal dive, his body skimming the grass.
Thud.
He smothered the ball with both hands.
The impact sent a stinging shock up his arms, all the way to his shoulders.
He rolled over, the red soil staining his blue MI jersey, and got back to his feet in one fluid motion.
Another dot ball.
"The pressure is imnse, Harsha!" Danny Morrison's voice bood.
"Kohli is at the non-striker's end, and he is watching a clinic! This young man Rudra has turned Point into a no-go zone!"
Ball 4.6: The final ball of the over. Bumrah delivered a sharp bouncer.
Gayle ducked, and the umpire signaled the end of the over.
As the fielders began to rotate, Kohli had to walk past Rudra to get to the striker's end for the next over.
The stadium noise was a muffled hum to Rudra as his idol approached.
Kohli slowed his pace.
He was still breathing hard, a bead of sweat dripping from his chin.
He looked at Rudra, not with the "Who is this?" look he had before, but with a sharp, competitive intensity.
He noticed the simple, sweat-soaked thread on Rudra's wrist.
"Good arm," Kohli said, his voice low and raspy. He didn't smile.
"But you won't get that lucky twice."
Rudra felt a chill go down his spine.
He wanted to say sothing, to tell him he was a fan, to ask for a tip, but his throat felt like it was full of sand.
He just gave a small, respectful nod.
"We'll see, Bhaiya," he managed to get out, his voice barely a whisper.
Kohli narrowed his eyes, clicked his tongue, and walked on to take guard.
Rudra jogged toward his new position, his heart finally starting to slow down.
He looked at his hands,they were red andvibrating from the force of Gayle's shot.
He was human, he was tired, and he was terrified of making a mistake.
But as he looked at Ponting, who gave him a sharp nod of approval from Mid-on, Rudra knew he belonged here.
___
The energy at the Chinnaswamy was no longer just loud.
It was frantic.
The crowd had sensed a shift, the "Universe Boss" was being quieted, and their Prince was now on strike.
[RCB Innings: 5.1 Overs | Score: 24/1]
Virat Kohli took his stance.
He tapped his bat three tis, adjusted his helt, and looked straight at Mitchell Johnson.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blue jersey at Point.
Rudra hadn't moved an inch.
Ball 5.2: Johnson stead in and hit the deck hard.
Kohli didn't just play the ball.
He dictated it. With a flourish of his wrists, he punched the ball through the covers.
It was too wide for Rudra this ti, a pure, clinical boundary.
Kohli didn't look at Rudra, but his walk back to the crease was a bit more arrogant.
(A/N: Classic Kohli 😂)
Ball 5.4: Kohli again. This ti, he stepped out and whipped a length ball over Mid-wicket for another four.
The stadium was shaking.
Virat Kohli was in the "zone."
Seeing his partner playing shots after shots, Chris Gayle's ego flared.
He hadn't scored a boundary in nearly two overs, and for the "Universe Boss," that was an eternity.
He wanted in on the party.
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