Clik here to view.
It was a nice day. We were into quarters. Everybody knew if someone can surprise Australia, it iss us. We won the toss. Decided to bat. I thought everyone was pumped up for this game like I was or at least I hoped they were. I was sitting in the dressing room watching batting line collapse. One after the other they threw their wickets away. Anyways, seventh man was sent back to pavilion, or decided to give up his wicket. Batting line failed once again. As expected. Now it was my turn to step up and make some runs and save the innings for me when I will have to bowl and defend the total. I went out, marked my guard and hoped to whack a few boundaries and somehow stretch the total to 250-260. Help this batting line look respectable like I did. Not always but I did. Mission Impossible.
Anyways, I faced the wrath of bowlers. Hazelwood, Starc etc. Not only that. The fielders around me enjoyed the sight as I missed. They threw the jabs at me as I missed the balls one after another. Starc went over the moon. Watching me miss his deliveries and running up to me, trying to rub it in my face. “I am not a batsmen, idiot” I said it to myself. But then as I missed deliveries he ran up to me and said something that just made my blood boil. “It’s the white thing, you have to hit it”. That was it, I ran down to umpire and complained about it. Then I looked at the big screen, and I said to myself, that was a moronic act. Men don’t do that. Men don’t do that. I could not take it no more. Things were heated up. Haddin, Watson..everyone enjoyed my misery. Then Watson said something that sounded like “are you holding a bat? Or do you know how to hold a bat?” something like that. Don’t remember but all I remembered was he threw something at me he shouldn’t have.
Anyways, I lost my wicket. And so did the remaining players. That was it. It was our turn to bowl. Coach and captain were trying to lift us up, giving a heavy team talk. Telling us we can still win it. But whatever they were saying, my ears could not process. Perhaps, “It’s the white thing, you have to hit it” and “are you holding a bat? Or do you know how to hold a bat?” was the only team talk I needed. The sound of it kept ringing in my ears. No words could’ve pumped me up that night. I was already pumped up. Watson, Haddin, Starc already started a fire.
We got on the field. Started bowling. Australia started steady. Nothing surprising there. But they lost their first wicket. And we had a hope. Few overs later captain signaled me up on the pitch. “Game over..my turn” voice came from within. Yup. Sledging is a part of the game. All pacers do that. But Aussies, they flew too close to the sun. “They are going to remember me for a long a time”. Cap and stuff was handed over to the umpire, on the mark, field set. First over, third ball, I took Warner out of the picture. An over later, Clarke. We were back in the game. We were alive again. I wanted to see how Starc was holding up in the dresser. Chances were, he hid his face inside his sweaty jersey.
In came Watson. I had him marked already. I welcomed him with a short pitched delivery. Followed by another, another and another. I loved every time he tried to avoid my pacey, perfectly placed short deliveries. He wouldn’t dare to meet my eyes. He won’t. What a coward. Starc and Haddin would be praying that they don’t get to face any of it. I hoped they did and worked for it. I enjoyed every moment of it. I had my revenge. Another short delivery forced Watson to hook. Ball went into the air. It was a simple catch. Rahat dropped it. Perfect end to the story..Rahat messed it up.
It wasn’t the same after the chance Rahat dropped. I tried but it wasn’t enough. Watson scored winning runs. It was painful to watch. But this time he didn’t try to rub it in my face. He learnt his lessons. Learnt them quite well. Don’t know about Starc, Haddin and rest of them though. But I hope they learnt theirs
This game might be over. But there is always a next time. See you then.
P.S: Work of fiction.
