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Bonus Chapter
and many of you guys are saying like all the batsman forgot how to play, well this is what happen with Indian team before 2022's. if you don't believe, go and check the score card of 2016 T20 world cup, heck even 2021 world cup.
But I am really sorry, if you don't like the chapters, I would try to push myself and upgrade myself even more such that you would love the chapters again. I have already completed the T20I world cup, so bear with it, would try to write it with more realism more.
Thanks for all your support and remarks.
Kynstra
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November 3, 2021. Sheikh Zayed Stadium, Abu Dhabi.
Anger is a potent fuel. Sorrow drains you, disappointment weighs you down, but anger? Anger burns. It sharpens the senses and turns the blood into rocket fuel.
For three days after the New Zealand debacle, the Indian dressing room had been a place of quiet, simmering rage. We hadn't just lost; we had been strangled. The net run rate had plummeted to -1.0.
We walked into the Sheikh Zayed Stadium not to play a cricket match, but to make a statement. We needed to win, yes. But more importantly, we needed to destroy. We needed to boost the Net Run Rate so high that calculator fear us. (I don't know why I write this line but I thought it was cringe, so I added it 😅)
The Opponent: Afghanistan. A dangerous team. Spin heavy. Fearless. But today, they were just obstacles in the path of a wounded beast.
The Toss: Virat Kohli lost the toss, but Mohammad Nabi, perhaps misreading the mood or the pitch, decided to bowl first. "We would have batted first anyway," Virat said at the toss, his eyes hidden behind dark shades. "We need runs. Lots of them."
KL Rahul and Rohit Sharma walked out. The intent was visible from the first ball. There were no sighters. No "getting your eye in."
KL Rahul was in a mood to punish. He stood tall and punched the Afghan pacers through the covers. He pulled with disdain. In just 3 overs, India raced to 45. Rahul was on 32 off 12 balls.
Over 3.2: Gulbadin Naib to KL Rahul. Rahul tried to clear the mid-wicket boundary again. He didn't quite get the elevation. The ball flat-lined into the hands of the fielder on the rope.
KL Rahul c Hazratullah b Gulbadin 32 (13)India: 45/1.
Usually, at the fall of a wicket in the Powerplay, a team consolidates. Virat Kohli, the anchor, would walk out. But in the dugout, a different conversation had taken place.
"Skip," I had said to Virat, buckling my pads. "Let me go at 3. I want to use the anger while the field is up. I want to break their morale before Rashid comes on."Virat looked at me, then at the scoreboard. "Go. Kill."
I walked out at Number 3. The crowd roared even though they were confused but still roared, as I am the successor to the king, and they love me even more after Pakistan clutch innings.
Bowler: Gulbadin Naib. Medium pace. Score: 45/1 (3.2 Overs).
I marked my guard. I looked at the field. I adjusted my helmet. The Viv Richards Aura was pulsating. I felt heavy, grounded, and infinitely powerful.
Ball 3.3: Dot. Defended. Ball 3.4: Dot. Punched to cover.
Gulbadin smiled. He thought he had tied me down. Mistake.
Ball 3.5: Gulbadin bowled a length ball, trying to hit the top of off. I didn't move my feet much. I just leaned into it. The Cover Drive. It wasn't just timing; it was violence disguised as elegance. The ball bisected the cover and mid-off fielders as if they were statues. FOUR.
Ball 3.6: Gulbadin changed his line. He aimed for the legs to cramp me. I saw it early. I dropped to one knee instantly. I flipped the bat in my hands. The Reverse Sweep. Against a seamer. In the Powerplay. I hit it clean. It flew over short third man. FOUR.
India: 53/1 (4 Overs).
Rohit Sharma walked down the pitch to punch my glove. "Accha hai," (Good,) Rohit grinned. "Aaj mood mein hai?" (In the mood today?) "Aaj phodna hai, Rohit bhai," (Today we have to smash them,) I replied. "250 par." (250 plus).
What followed was a massacre. Rohit Sharma, stung by the criticism of the last two games, brought out the 'Hitman'. He pulled Naveen-ul-Haq into the stands. He danced down to Sharafuddin Ashraf.
And I? I was playing a video game. My Brett Lee Mechanics allowed me to generate bat speed that shouldn't be possible for a human wrist. My King's Aura meant I didn't respect good balls; I treated them as scoring opportunities.
I reached my 50 in the 8th over. 18 Balls. The second fastest fifty in T20 World Cups.
I raised my bat. No smile. India: 110/1 (10 Overs).
We were going at 11 runs an over. But the main threat was yet to arrive. The best T20 bowler in the world.
The 11th Over:
Over 11. Mohammad Nabi tossed the ball to Rashid Khan. The Afghan magician. The man who wins matches single-handedly. He had bowled two overs for just 12 runs so far. He was their last hope to stop the bleeding.
I was on strike. 70 runs off 32 balls. I looked at Rashid. He was adjusting his field, moving fine leg back, bringing mid-wicket up. He looked confident. He thought he could trap me.
I walked to the middle of the pitch, tapped it down, and looked at Rashid. You are the best? Good. I like destroying the best.
Ball 11.1: Rashid ran in fast. His arm speed is deceptive. He bowled a leg-break on middle stump, trying to skid it through. I didn't respect the reputation. I cleared my front leg. I dropped my back knee. The Slog Sweep. I caught it right in the middle of the bat. CRACK. The ball didn't just clear the rope; it cleared the roof. It hit the solar panels on the roof of the Sheikh Zayed Stadium. SIX!
Ian Bishop (Comms): "Oh my goodness! That has gone into orbit! He has welcomed the world's best bowler with a monster! Aarav Pathak is not here to negotiate; he is here to dictate!"
Ball 11.2: Rashid was rattled. He adjusted his line, aiming outside off to keep it away from my hitting arc. But my Mechanics thanks to System (enhanced by the Viv Aura) saw the grip. I saw the back of the hand. Googly. I didn't wait. I shuffled across the off-stump. I switched my grip. I turned into a left-hander. I dipped low and Scooped the ball. Not over fine leg. Over deep fine leg. The timing was exquisite. One bounce into the boundary. FOUR.
Nasser Hussain (Comms): "I... I don't know what to say. He is reading Rashid Khan from the hand! He switched his stance before the ball pitched! This is disrespectful. This is genius."
Ball 11.3: Rashid was furious. He increased his speed. 98 kmph. He fired it full on leg stump, trying to york me. I saw the pace. I used it. I backed away towards the leg side, exposing all three stumps. It looked suicidal. But it created the angle. I flicked my wrists. Inside-out. Like an extra-cover drive, but played with the bottom hand whip. The ball rocketed over the extra cover boundary. FOUR.
Sunil Gavaskar (Comms): "Look at those wrists! That is Hyderabad style! That is VVS Laxman with the power of MS Dhoni! He is toying with the field!"
Ball 11.4: Rashid went back to his stock ball. Good length leg-break, pitching on middle, turning away. A ball that gets edges.
How Aarav played it: I started by shuffling slightly towards off. As the ball left his hand, I dropped to one knee. I didn't sweep. I opened my chest to the off-side. I tilted the bat face inside-out. Using my front knee as a pivot, I lifted the ball over extra cover. Against the spin. With the spin. It didn't matter. SIX!
Daren Sammy (Comms): "Wow! That gives me vibes of peak AB de Villiers! The 360-degree play! But the power... that is Chris Gayle! He is combining the two! Rashid Khan has no answers! He is looking at his captain for help!"
Ball 11.5: Rashid tried the slower googly. Floating it up, landing on off stump, drifting in. He wanted me to mistime a lofted shot.
How I played it: I saw the loop. I didn't hit it. I caressed it. I switched my grip slightly just before impact. I reversed the bat face. I bent my knees and angled the bat like a paddle scoop—but in reverse. I guided the ball fine, behind the wicketkeeper, running down to the third man/fine leg region. FOUR.
Ian Bishop (Comms): "Stop it! Just stop it, Aarav Pathak! You are playing with the laws of physics! A reverse paddle scoop against a googly? This is batting exhibition of the highest order!"
Ball 11.6: Last ball of the over. Rashid was broken. He just wanted to get out of there. He fired in a quicker leg-break, short of a length, aimed at the body. A defensive ball.
How I played it: I didn't come forward. I moved backward. I stepped deep into the crease, almost treading on my stumps. This created the space I needed. It made the good length ball effectively a short ball. As the ball rose to my chest, I didn't pull. I used my wrists to Flick-Scoop it over short fine-leg. It looked awkward. I was off-balance, falling away. But the connection was pure. The ball sailed. It kept going. Over short fine. Over deep fine. Into the crowd.
SIX!
30 Runs off the over. Rashid Khan's figures went from 2-0-12-0 to 3-0-42-0.
As the ball landed in the stands, I looked at the scoreboard.
Aarav Pathak: 100 (38 balls).*
Fastest Century in T20 World Cup History. (Beating Chris Gayle's 47-ball record).
I ran. I jumped. I leaped into the air, punching the sky. I landed, unclipped my helmet, and ripped it off. My hair was matted with sweat, my face flushed with the heat of battle.
The crowd was deafening. Aarav! Aarav!
I turned towards the VIP stand. To the cameras, it looked like I was searching for the legend, Sachin Tendulkar. But my eyes locked onto the figure sitting beside him. Shradha. She was standing, clapping furiously, shouting and cheering for me.
I raised my bat. I tapped it against my helmet in a easy going style salute. For you.
Then I turned to Rohit Sharma. The Vice-Captain engulfed me in a bear hug, lifting me off my feet. "Kya baat hai! (What a thing!)" Rohit screamed into my ear. "Tu pagal hai kya! (You are crazy!)"
The camera panned to the Indian dugout. Virat Kohli was running. He wasn't sitting; he was sprinting along the boundary line, towel in hand, waving it like a flag. He was screaming, high-fiving Ravi Shastri so hard that Shastri's sunglasses almost fell off. Rishabh Pant was jumping on Suryakumar Yadav's back. MS Dhoni, the mentor, stood up. He was clapping. A wide, genuine smile on his face. That was the highest praise of all.
Nasser Hussain (Comms): "I have been critical of this young man. I said he wasn't ready. I said he was a Test player. Well, I am eating my words right now. I am swallowing them whole. This is not just a gem; this is a diamond. I don't know how India produces them, from Kapil to Gavaskar to Sachin to Kohli and now this man. He has taken the best T20 bowler in the world apart. He has scored a 38-ball hundred in a World Cup. I have no words. Just... watch him."
Sunil Gavaskar (Comms): "The future of Indian cricket is safe. It is in the hands of this 21-year-old. From Sachin to Kohli to Aarav. The lineage continues. What a knock! What a temperament! He was angry after the New Zealand game, and he has taken it out on the poor cricket ball!"
I didn't stop at 100. The milestone was just a marker. The mission was NRR.
Over 12: Naveen-ul-Haq. I hit him for four more sixes straight down the ground. 124 runs.
Over 13: Hamid Hassan. I tried to reverse-lap him. I missed. I got hit on the ribs. I didn't rub it. I just hit the next ball for four.
Finally, in the 15th over. I was on 143 runs off 52 balls. I tried to clear the long-on boundary off Karim Janat. Fatigue finally caught up with the legs. I didn't get to the pitch. The ball went high. Mohammad Nabi at long-on took a safe catch.
Aarav Pathak c Nabi b Karim Janat 143 (53)(12 Fours, 13 Sixes)
As I walked off, the entire stadium stood up. The Afghan players ran to shake my hand. Rashid Khan patted me on the back, a wry smile on his face. "Too good, brother. Too good."
I raised my bat to all corners of the ground. I felt light. I felt drained. But I felt satisfied.
India: 210/2 (14.4 Overs).
I sat in the dugout, chugging water, ice pack on my neck. But the show wasn't over.
Hardik Pandya walked in at Number 4 (promoted ahead of Pant and even Kohli). He had been struggling for form. But seeing my innings, something unlocked in him too. The platform was set. There was no pressure of wickets.
Hardik went berserk. He smashed 35 off 13 balls. Rishabh Pant came in and hit a one-handed six.
India finished at 263/3. Highest total in T20 World Cup history.
The Afghan chase was a formality. They crumbled under the pressure of the scoreboard. Bumrah took 3 wickets. Bhuvi took 2. Aarav bowled 2 overs took 1 wicket and one run-out too.
India won by 119 runs.
Afghanistan: 144/7.India won by 119 runs.
Post-Match:
Ian Bishop: "Aarav Pathak, Player of the Match. 143 runs. 38-ball hundred. Is this the best you have ever batted?"
I smiled, holding the trophy. "It's up there, Ian. But the job isn't done. We needed high margin in NRR. Now we need to do it again against Scotland and Namibia."
Harsha Bhogle (Closing): "Tonight, Abu Dhabi witnessed something special. We saw a young man turn into a giant. India has roared back into the tournament. The Net Run Rate has jumped from -1.0 to +0.73. They are breathing down New Zealand's neck. But for now, let's just savor the genius of Aarav Pathak."
I walked back to the dressing room. Shradha sent me a text. My hands hurt from clapping. You owe me a massage.
I grinned. The nightmare of Halloween was gone. The dream was back on.
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November 5, 2021. Dubai International Stadium.
There are days when cricket feels like a job, days when it feels like a war, and days when it feels like a party. November 5th was definitely a party.
It was Virat Kohli's 33rd Birthday.
The atmosphere in the dressing room before the match against Scotland wasn't tense. It was buzzing with a suppressed, mischievous energy. We had a job to do on the field boost the Net Run Rate—but everyone knew the real main event was scheduled for after the match.
The Toss: Virat Kohli won the toss. "We'll bowl," Virat said, a wide grin on his face. Even the coin was celebrating his birthday. "We want to restrict them and chase it down quickly."
The Scotland team walked out, looking slightly intimidated. They were facing a team that had just scored 263 against Afghanistan.
Jasprit Bumrah and Bhuvi started the proceedings with surgical precision. They removed the openers cheaply. George Munsey and Kyle Coetzer were back in the hut before they could settle.
Then, Virat tossed the ball to Aarav.
"Gift me some wickets, Aarav," Virat said, polishing the ball.
"Happy Birthday, Skip," I replied.
Over 7: I didn't need the 'King's Aura' today. I just needed raw pace and deception. I ran in. 155.2 kmph. The Scottish batter, Calum MacLeod, barely saw it. He poked at it, late. The ball shattered the stumps.
Over 9: I changed tactics. I ran in with the same arm speed, the same aggression. The batter braced for the thunderbolt. I rolled my fingers. The 'Knuckle Ball'. 115 kmph. The batter was through his shot before the ball arrived. It dipped, kissed the top of off-stump, and the bails fell softly.
It was unfair, really. To go from 155 to 115 is a difference of 40 kilometers per hour. It messes with the visual processing of the brain. The Scottish batsmen looked like deer caught in headlights that were strobe-flashing.
I cleaned up the tail with two more yorkers.
Figures: 3.4 Overs. 10 Runs. 4 Wickets.
Scotland was bowled out for 85.
India chased it down in 6.3 overs. KL Rahul scored a 19-ball 50. Rohit hit 30 off 16. We didn't just win; we annihilated them. Our Net Run Rate shot through the roof, surpassing everyone.
But the cricket was just the appetizer. The main course was waiting in the dressing room.
We walked back, high-fiving. The moment we entered the sanctity of the changing room, the mood shifted from professional to predatory.
A massive chocolate cake was sitting on the central table. It had "Happy Birthday Kohli" written on it in blue icing.
Virat walked in, towel around his neck, smiling. "Great win, boys! That's how we do it! Now, who wants cake?"
He reached for the knife.
"HOLD HIM!" Rohit Sharma shouted, the signal given.
I dropped my kit bag and lunged. I grabbed Virat's left arm. KL Rahul grabbed his right. Rishabh Pant tackled him from behind, locking his legs.
"Oye! Kya kar rahe ho! (What are you doing!)" Virat screamed, struggling. But against three elite athletes, even the fittest cricketer in the world didn't stand a chance.
"Happy Birthday, Cheeku!" Rohit yelled.
He didn't cut a slice. He grabbed a massive cake—sponge, cream, chocolate ganache and smashed it directly into Virat's face with the force of a pull shot.
SPLAT.
Virat's face disappeared.
Then Hardik Pandya joined in with another handful for the hair. Ishan Kishan poured a bottle of champagne over his head. Jasprit Bumrah was rubbing icing into his beard.
Within seconds, the Captain of India looked like a swamp creature made of cocoa and sugar. Only his eyes were visible, blinking white amidst the brown mess.
We released him, stepping back to laugh.
Virat stood there, breathing heavily, tasting the icing. He licked his lips. Then, a dangerous glint appeared in his chocolate-covered eyes.
"You guys are dead," Virat whispered.
He lunged.
"RUN!" I screamed.
The dressing room turned into a war zone. Virat, the Cake Monster, chased us. He hugged Rohit first, smearing chocolate all over his clean jersey. He tackled Pant onto the sofa. He caught me in the corner and rubbed his face against mine, transferring a kilo of cake onto my cheek.
"Come here, Aarav! You held my arm!" Virat laughed maniacally.
"It was Rohit's idea!" I pleaded, laughing as I tried to escape.
"I don't care! Everyone gets a hug!"
Music was blasting—punjabi beats vibrating the walls. We danced. We took selfies. I uploaded a Reel of Virat chasing Ishan Kishan around the table with the caption: The Hunter becomes the Hunted. Happy Birthday King! 👑😂 #CakeMonster
It was pure, unadulterated joy. For a few hours, the pressure of the World Cup didn't exist. We were just a bunch of boys playing a game we loved.
November 8, 2021.
The final group game against Namibia was a formality, but we played it with respect.
Namibia batted first. They played decently, scrapping their way to 132/8. I bowled a controlled spell, testing my slower balls more than my pace. Figures: 4 Overs. 20 Runs. 3 Wickets.
When we came out to bat, Rohit and Rahul finished the job professionally. India reached 136/1 in 15.2 overs.
We had done our part. We had won three games in a row by massive margins. Our NRR was the highest in the group.
New Zealand Qualified.India Qualified.
Group 2 Standings :
Pakistan: 8 Points (Won 4, Lost 1 to India).
India: 8 Points (Won 4, Lost 1 to NZ). High NRR due to big wins.
New Zealand: 8 Points (Won 4, Lost 1 to Pak).
OFFICIAL STANDINGS:1. India (Qualified - Top of Table due to NRR)2. New Zealand (Qualified - 2nd on NRR) Pakistan, despite playing well, gets knocked out on NRR in a cruel twist.
The Semi-Final Lineup:
Group 1 Qualifiers: England and Australia. Group 2 Qualifiers: India and New Zealand.
Semi-Final 1: India vs England. Abu Dhabi. Semi-Final 2: New Zealand vs Australia.
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We gathered in the hotel meeting room. The brackets were set.
Semi-Final 1:India vs England.Venue: Sheikh Zayed Stadium, Abu Dhabi.
"England," Virat said, looking at the board. "They play aggressive cricket. Jos Buttler. Jason Roy. Bairstow. Livingstone. They come hard."
"We know them," I said, leaning back. "We played them in the Test series. We know their mindset."
"This is white ball, Aarav," Rohit warned. "They are the previous T20I world cup winner. They transformed the game."
"Then we transform it back," I replied.
"They have pace," Shastri noted.
"I have pace too," I cracked my knuckles. The memory of the stump flying at Lord's flashed in my mind.
"We beat them in the warm-up," Pant added.
"Warm-ups don't count," Dhoni said from the back. "Knockouts are about who handles the 10 minutes of pressure better."
We had a few days off before the semi-final. The team went out for a team dinner. We were relaxed. We had momentum.
I sat next to Virat at dinner. "One more week," Virat said, looking at his plate. "Two wins away from the trophy."
"We'll get it, Skip," I promised. "For you."
Virat smiled. "For India."
The road to the final was clear. But standing in our way was the most dangerous white-ball team on the planet.
Up Next: The Semi-Final.India vs England.
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November 10, 2021. Sheikh Zayed Stadium, Abu Dhabi.ICC T20 World Cup - Semi-Final.India vs England.
The air in Abu Dhabi was heavy, not just with humidity, but with the suffocating weight of history. India versus England in a knockout game always carried baggage.
The Toss: Virat Kohli flipped the coin. Eoin Morgan called Heads. It was Tails. "We'll bowl," Virat said, a visible release of tension in his shoulders. "There's a bit of dew coming in later. We would love to chase against New Zealand in the final, so let's practice here."
England, the pioneers of "Bazball" before it even had a name, didn't start with fireworks. They started with a stutter.
Bhuvneshwar Kumar swung the new ball beautifully, removing Jos Buttler for a golden duck in the first over. Jasprit Bumrah cleaned up Jonny Bairstow.
England was 35/2.
But then came the consolidation. Dawid Malan and Moeen Ali rebuilt the innings. They didn't slog; they ran hard, manipulating the large boundaries of Abu Dhabi. Malan, the World No. 1 batter, played a scratchy but effective innings (40 off 29), while Moeen Ali attacked the spinners (40 off 30).
I came into the attack in the middle overs.
Nasser Hussain (Comms): "Here comes the man of the tournament. Aarav Pathak. He's been breathing fire. England needs to be careful."
I didn't bowl 155kmph today. The pitch was slow. I bowled cutters. I removed Liam Livingstone with a slower bouncer that he mistimed to mid-off. Then I castled Eoin Morgan with a yorker that dipped late.
Figures: 4 Overs. 29 Runs. 2 Wickets.
But a late flurry from Chris Jordan pushed England to a competitive total.
England: 166/6 (20 Overs).
It wasn't a monster score, but in a semi-final, runs on the board are like gold dust.
Jatin Sapru (Comms): "167 to win. A place in the Final at stake. KL Rahul and Rohit Sharma walking out. The hopes of a billion people walk with them."
The chase began nervously. Chris Woakes and Chris Jordan bowled tight lines.
Over 2.3: KL Rahul tried to break the shackles. He stepped out to Woakes but sliced it to point. KL Rahul c Bairstow b Woakes 7 (9).India: 15/1.
Virat Kohli joined Rohit Sharma. They consolidated, playing risk-free cricket. But the run rate was climbing. Just as Rohit looked set to explode, disaster struck on the last ball of the Powerplay. He pulled a short ball from Mark Wood, but hit it straight to the man at deep square leg.
Rohit Sharma c Rashid b Wood 27 (20).India: 42/2 (6 Overs).
The scorecard looked shaky. The English fielders were chirping.
Then, I walked out.
Over 7: Adil Rashid.
Eoin Morgan brought on his premier spinner immediately to target the new batsman. I marked my guard. I didn't need sighters.
Ball 6.2: Rashid tossed it up, a leg-break. I danced down the track. I didn't look to defend. I hit it with the spin, towering it over long-on. SIX!
Ian Smith (Comms): "Hello! Welcome to the crease! First ball he faces, and he sends it back with interest! Aarav Pathak is not here to hang around!"
I kept the tempo up. I punched Mark Wood through the covers. I swept Liam Livingstone. But at the other end, the procession continued.
Virat Kohli fell for 30, trying to accelerate. Suryakumar Yadav nicked off to Jordan. Rishabh Pant played a rash shot and was caught at short third man. Hardik too got bowled at yorker.
India: 110/5 (13.5 Overs).
We still needed 57 runs off 37 balls. I was on 78 off 39 balls. I was playing a lone hand. Ravindra Jadeja walked out.
14.4 Overs
Score: 115/5. I was batting on 82. I was in the zone.
Bowler: Tymal Mills. I played a soft push towards deep mid-wicket. There was an easy two. "TWO! TWO!" I called, sprinting. I turned for the second. Jadeja was watching the ball. He stuttered. He took a step back, then realized I was charging. He ran. But the throw from Jason Roy was flat and fast. It was coming to the danger end—my end.
I dove. I stretched my bat out, my body flying parallel to the ground. The stumps broke.
"RUN OUT APPEAL!"
I lay in the dirt, chest heaving. Suddenly, a memory flashed in my mind. Violent and vivid. Champions Trophy Final, 2017. Hardik Pandya blazing. Ravindra Jadeja at the other end. A mix-up. Pandya run out. India loses.
I looked at the big screen. Frame by frame. My bat crossed the line just milliseconds before the bails lit up. NOT OUT.
I stood up, dusting off the dirt. My heart was hammering against my ribs not from exertion, but from panic. Jadeja looked shaken. "Sorry, Aarav. My call was bad."
I looked at him. I stare at him. Then I looked at the dugout. The required rate was creeping up. 50 needed off 30. I couldn't risk a mistake. I couldn't risk "Viv Richards" arrogance leading to a holing out. I needed precision. I needed a calculator.
[System Prompt][Status: High Pressure.][Emotional State: Panic Rising.][Activate Item: 'Virat Kohli Experience Card ']?
I didn't hesitate. "Activate," I whispered.
A cool sensation washed over my brain. The 'Viv Richards' swagger—the desire to hit every ball for six receded. It was replaced by a cold, surgical focus. The field placings became mathematical equations. The gaps became wider. My heart rate dropped to a resting 60.
I was the Chase Master noe.
Over 16: Chris Jordan.
I walked up to Jadeja. "Jaddu bhai," I said, my voice eerily calm. "Don't hit. Just run hard. If you hit it to the fielder, we run one. If it's in the gap, we run two. We steal runs."
Ball 1: I tapped it to soft hands towards mid-on. "One, quick one!" We ran. Jordan picked up, but we were home.
Ball 2: Jadeja on strike. He pushed to deep cover. "TWO! PUSH IT!" I screamed, running the first one like a sprinter, but only one run was possible.
Ball 3: I was back on strike. Jordan missed his yorker by an inch. Low full toss. The old Aarav would have tried to scoop it. The Kohli-Mode Aarav opened the face and steered it through the gap between backward point and short third. Placement perfection. FOUR.
Daren Sammy (Comms): "Look at that placement! He isn't trying to muscle it anymore. He is dissecting the field like a surgeon! That is intelligent cricket. He knows he is the key."
Over 17: Mark Wood.
Pace on. I used the depth of the crease. Ball 2: Short ball. I rolled my wrists, pulling it along the ground to deep square. Two runs.
Ball 4: Width. I stood tall on my toes. Punch through covers. FOUR.
Ball 5: Wood tried a slower ball. I read it from the hand. I waited. I whipped it through mid-wicket. The wrist work was pure Kohli. FOUR.
The equation melted. 30 needed became 18 needed. Then 10 needed.
India: 160/5.Target: 167.7 runs needed.
Jadeja had fallen in the previous over, caught at long-on trying to finish it early. After Jadeja fell, Bhuvi (0 for 1) fell. Bumrah (0 for 1) fell. Score: 160/9. Last man Varun Chakravarthy at the non-striker's end. 7 runs needed off 10 balls.
Over 18.2: Chris Woakes.
I was on strike. 96 runs.
Ball 18.2: Chris Woakes ran in. He knew one wicket would win it for England. He bowled a length ball outside off. I didn't slog. I leaned into the drive. I found the gap through extra cover. The ball raced away. FOUR.
HUNDRED! HUNDRED BUT AARAV DIDN'T CELEBRATE IT, HE JUST RAISED HIS BAT!
Score: 164/9.3 runs to win.
Ball 18.3: Woakes panicked. He went short. I saw it. I swiveled. The Pull Shot. I hit it flat. It flew over square leg. It landed on the rope.
FOUR.
INDIA WINS!
Nasser Hussain (Comms): "HE'S DONE IT! AARAV PATHAK HAS DONE IT AGAIN! India are into the Final! Heartbreak for England, but you have to applaud the genius! He has timed this chase to absolute perfection! Wickets falling around him, chaos everywhere, but he stood like a rock!"
I dropped my bat. I didn't roar this time. The 'Kohli Card' faded, leaving me with raw emotion. I fell to my knees, punching the ground.
Then the stampede arrived. Rishabh Pant was the first to reach me, tears streaming down his face. Rohit Sharma was sprinting, screaming. Virat Kohli ran onto the field and tackled me into the turf.
They toppled me. I was buried under blue jerseys.
Jatin Sapru (Comms): "Look at these scenes! Tears in the eyes of the captain! Tears in the eyes of the vice-captain! They know how close this was! They know who saved them! Aarav Pathak, the savior of Indian cricket!"
I managed to stand up. I picked up my bat. I raised it to the crowd. A sea of blue flags waved back. I looked at the balcony. MS Dhoni was standing there, clapping slowly, a knowing smile on his face. He knew exactly what card I had played.
Score Summary:India: 170/9 (18.3 Overs). Aarav Pathak: 104* (52 balls).
We were in the Final. And waiting for us... were the ghosts of the WTC. New Zealand.
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Author's Note: - 5200+ Words 😮😮
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