The morning air at Mohali carried a nervous hum. UP's squad had arrived early, boots crunching against the damp grass, eyes fixed on the challenge ahead. Punjab was no ordinary opponent—they had depth in batting, variety in bowling, and the confidence of playing at home.
For Nikhil, though, this wasn't about Punjab. It was about his name on the sheet. His first senior match. His debut.
The Spell
UP bowled first. Mayank Rawat and Vivek Agnihotri opened with pace, bending the new ball under the Mohali breeze. Punjab's openers looked comfortable, nudging singles, waiting for loose deliveries.
In the 18th over, Coach Bhatia signaled. Siddharth Rao tossed the ball to Nikhil.
The crowd didn't stir. To them, he was just a kid.
Nikhil marked his run-up, eyes calm.
First ball—flighted, dipping late. The batter misjudged, playing too early. Dot. Second ball—quicker, flatter. Nudged to midwicket. Single. Third ball—looped, drifting in. Beaten.
The Punjab batters smirked. "Easy pickings," one muttered.
But the runs didn't come.
Over after over, Nikhil bowled with control. He varied pace, teased with flight, and forced hesitation. Punjab's middle order, usually fluent, found themselves stuck.
By the end of his spell: 5 overs, 1 wicket, 20 runs.
Not flashy. Not destructive. But balanced. He had slowed Punjab's run machine, forcing them into errors.
His lone wicket came when Punjab's No. 5 tried to loft him over cover. The ball dipped, spun just enough, and Raghav Mehta took a sharp catch.
The batter walked back shaking his head. He had misjudged the kid.
The Fielding
If his bowling was steady, his fielding was electric.
Placed at deep point, Nikhil moved like a rocket. His legs churned, his arms pumped, his eyes locked on the ball.
In the 27th over, Punjab's batter slashed hard. The ball screamed toward the boundary. Every UP player thought it was gone.
But Nikhil ran. Fast. Too fast. Like an ostrich tearing across the turf.
He slid, stretched, and flicked the ball back inches before the rope.
Only two runs.
The batter stood frozen, bat in hand, disbelief etched on his face.
The UP players roared. Even Siddharth Rao, usually stern, cracked a smile.
"Rocket," Mayank muttered. "He's a rocket."
The Chase
Punjab finished with 246 in 50 overs. A competitive score.
UP's chase began well. Raghav Mehta struck boundaries, Karan Bhagat anchored, Ravi Teja rotated. But wickets fell in clusters, and the run rate climbed.
By the 45th over, UP needed 48 runs. Pressure mounted.
Coach Bhatia looked at the dugout. "Nikhil, pad up."
The Cameo
He walked in at No. 6. The crowd barely noticed. To them, he was just filling a slot.
The 45th over was being bowled by Punjab's left-arm spinner.
First ball: loopy, drifting in. Nikhil stepped forward and launched it over long-on. Six.
Second ball: flatter, quicker. He rocked back and cut it past point for four.
Third ball: tossed up again. He slog-swept it flat over midwicket. Six.
The spinner looked rattled. The over ended with Nikhil already on 16 off 5 balls.
Next over, Punjab turned to pace. Their right-arm quick steamed in.
First ball: attempted yorker. Nikhil adjusted, flicked his wrists, and sent it soaring over square leg. Six.
Second ball: short of length. He pulled it hard, flat, racing. six.
Third ball: slower bouncer. He waited, then ramped it over fine leg. four.
The ball didn't look like cricket leather to him. It looked oversized, like a football, easy to strike. Spinner or pacer—it didn't matter. Everyone went for runs.
In just 15 balls, he smashed 38. By the 48th over, UP crossed the line. Victory.
The Shock
The dressing room was stunned.
Ravi Teja shook his head. "He batted like AB de Villiers."
Karan Bhagat added quietly, "That wasn't a cameo. That was a statement."
Mayank Rawat laughed. "Kid's dangerous. Told you."
Even Siddharth Rao, his mentor, allowed himself a rare smile. "He didn't chase. He controlled."
The Crowd
But in the stands, another pair of eyes had been watching.
Yuuvraj Singh.
He had come to see his student, Abhisheek Sharma, perform. And Abhisheek had done well—shining with both bat and ball, showing promise and flair.
Yet today, someone else had stolen the spotlight.
Not with wickets. Not with centuries. But with balance in the middle overs, rocket-like fielding, and a fearless batting cameo.
Yuvraj leaned back, arms folded.
The kid had outshone.
The Reflection
Later that night, Nikhil sat with Veer under the stadium lights.
He replayed the day. The spell. The catch. The chase.
He didn't feel like a star.
He felt like a contributor.
Then he whispered:
"Debut done. Balance kept. Runs chased. Tomorrow, we start again."