The 9 AM bus ride to Uppal had a different energy. The nervous, introductory silence of the previous day was gone, replaced by the easy, boisterous banter of a team that had survived its first test.
The photoshoot, and specifically the heckling, had been a brilliant equalizer. Rohit Sharma's 100-meter full toss jibe at Siddanth had become an instant classic, and Andrew Symonds's impersonation of RP Singh's "bowling-to-the-camera" pose had already achieved legendary status.
Siddanth sat near the middle, next to Halhadar Das.
"You ready for this, man?" Das whispered, his leg vibrating with nervous energy. "A practice match against Gilchrist and Symonds? This is insane."
Siddanth looked out the window as the stadium, a massive concrete bowl, rose into view. His mind was calm, processing. "It's just a net session with fielders, Das," he said, the lie sounding reassuring. But his 60% Brett Lee template was thrumming, a low, powerful hum under his skin. He had felt the wildness of his new power yesterday—the 150kph leg-side wide, the 153kph bouncer. Today, his goal was singular: control.
Robin Singh was all business. The moment they stepped onto the dew-covered grass, he blew his whistle, the sound sharp and sudden.
"Alright, listen up! Warm-ups, 20 minutes, hard. Then we split. Gilly, you're captaining the 'A's'. VVS, you're captaining the 'B's'."
The team selection was a ruthless mix-and-match, designed to test different combinations.
Laxman's 'B's' (Siddanth's Team): VVS Laxman (C), Rohit Sharma, Scott Styris, Siddanth Deva, Halhadar Das (WK), RP Singh, and five domestic hopefuls.
Gilchrist's 'A's' (The Opponents): Adam Gilchrist (C & WK), Andrew Symonds, Venugopal Rao, Chamara Silva, and the rest of the pace and spin attack.
Laxman won the toss. The pitch was a flat, beige-colored road. "We'll bat," he announced, his voice carrying the calm authority of a man who owned this ground.
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Siddanth was padded up, his number 5 (3-down) spot confirmed. He watched as Rohit Sharma and a young opener walked out. The "practice" match began with a ferocious intensity. The bowlers on Gilchrist's team were bowling at full tilt, all competing for a spot.
Rohit, in his element, played a lazy, beautiful cameo of 25 before trying one flick too many and being caught at short-fine-leg. Laxman came in and was a picture of grace, until a brilliant, diving catch by Gilchrist, standing up to a medium-pacer, sent him back for 45. Scott Styris, the Kiwi, was at the crease, trying to stabilize.
The innings was stuttering.
Laxman's 'B's': 140 for 3. The 18th over was just beginning. 18 balls left.
"Sid! You're in!" Robin Singh barked.
Siddanth grabbed his bat and strode out, his mind a cold, clear calculator. No time to build. This is the finisher role. This is my job.
He took his guard. He was facing a domestic quick who had a decent 135kph bouncer.
Ball 1: The bowler digs it in short.
Siddanth swiveled, his body a coil of power, and pulled. The connection was pure. The ball flew, a flat, white streak, over the deep-square-leg boundary. Six.
Ball 2: The bowler, rattled, overcompensated. He went for the yorker. He missed. It was a low full toss. Siddanth, his Innovative Shot-Making (Lv. 3) taking over, simply opened his stance and ramped it, one-handed, over the short-third-man. Four.
Ball 3: The bowler was now just hurling it. A length ball, outside off. Siddanth gave himself room and carved it, with surgical precision, over backward point. Four.
Three balls, 14 runs. The dugout was silent, watching.
Ball 4: The bowler finally lands a good yorker. Siddanth jammed the bat down and squeezed it to point for a quick Single.
He was off strike for two balls. Styris managed a single, getting Siddanth back on strike for the last ball of the 19th over.
Ball 5 (for Sid): A 130kph slower ball. Siddanth waited... waited... and then, with a whip of his entire body, reverse-swept the medium-pacer. The ball screamed over the gully for another Four.
The final over. Andrew Symonds, his face a mask of competitive fury, took the ball. This was a personal challenge.
Ball 6 (for Sid): Symonds hurls a 135kph off-cutter. Siddanth glided down the pitch, met it on the full, and hit it straight back over Symonds's head. Six.
Ball 7 (for Sid): Symonds dug it in short and fast. Siddanth didn't hook. He didn't pull. He just arched his back and, with a flick of his wrists, ramped the 140kph delivery. It was a lucky, thin edge... that flew over a leaping Gilchrist's head for Four.
He finished 35 not out off 10 balls.
Laxman's 'B's' had posted a formidable 188 for 5.
As he walked off, Styris just shook his head. "Bloody hell, kid. That was just... ridiculous. You're supposed to give me the strike!"
Siddanth just grinned, "Sorry, Scott. The ball just looked big."
In the dugout, Laxman gave him a quiet, impressed nod. "A very special cameo, Siddanth. You've given us a total to defend."
Robin Singh just made a note on his clipboard. Finisher. Fearless.
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The innings break was short. Robin Singh was all business.
"188 is a good score. But that," he jabbed a finger at the pitch, "is a highway. And that," he pointed to the 'A's' dugout, "is a batting lineup that can chase 250. Gilly, Symonds, Rao... they will come at you. I don't want defensive bowling. I want smart, aggressive bowling."
His eyes found Siddanth. "Deva. You'll bowl first change. Four overs, in two spells. Yesterday, you showed us your power. Today, show me you can control it."
Siddanth nodded, his mind already formulating a plan. Pace is not the answer. Not against these guys. Gilly and Symonds eat 150kph for breakfast.
The 'A's' came out firing.
Adam Gilchrist was in a mood. He was a whirlwind. He took RP Singh's first over for 14 runs, a brutal display of fast-hands and perfect timing. By the end of the 3rd over, the score was 35 for 0. Gilly was 30 of them.
Laxman, his face calm, walked over to Siddanth. "Sid. Now. Stop this."
Siddanth took the ball. It was the 4th over. He was bowling to a rampaging Adam Gilchrist. The legend.
He stood at the top of his mark. Okay. He's expecting 150. He's not getting it.
Over 1
Ball 1: Siddanth ran in, his full, explosive action. Gilly's eyes lit up, his body tensing for the pull.
But at the last second, Siddanth's fingers rolled over the ball. It was the 105kph slower-ball yorker.
Gilchrist, who had already committed to his murderous pull shot, was six months early. He was through his swing while the ball was still floating. In a moment of sheer, desperate genius, Gilly, mid-swing, just stabbed his bat down, blocking the ball, which trickled to a stop at his feet.
He looked up at Siddanth, his eyes wide. He didn't look angry. He just... grinned. You cheeky bastard.
Ball 2: Siddanth ran in again, same action. Gilly was now cautious, waiting. Siddanth bowled the 148kph wobble-seam. It wasn't full pace; it was about deception. The ball jagged away from Gilly's defensive prod. Whoosh.
Ball 3: Another wobble-seam. Gilly, now respecting him, just blocked. Dot.
Ball 4: Siddanth hurls a 145kph outswinger. Gilly, with those fast hands, smashed it. But Rohit, at cover, made a brilliant diving stop. Single.
Ball 5: (To Venugopal Rao) 140kph, angling in. Rao defended. Single.
Ball 6: (To Gilly) Slower ball again. Gilly waited... and punched it to long-on. Four. He'd been waiting for it.
Total: 6 runs. A brilliant, tactical over. Siddanth had neutralized the legend.
Siddanth was taken off. The spinners, including Styris, came on. The game tightened. Gilchrist fell, run out by a brilliant piece of fielding from Rohit. But now Symonds was in, and he was hitting bombs.
The Equation: 60 runs needed from 30 balls.
Laxman looked at Siddanth. "We need wickets to win the game."
Over 2
It was the 16th over. Symonds was on strike.
Ball 1: Siddanth ran in. No more tricks. This was a challenge. 153kph. A perfect, fast, searing yorker. Symonds, all brute power, just managed to jam his bat down. It ricocheted off his boot. Single.
Ball 2: Venugopal Rao on strike. The set batsman. Siddanth activated Kinetic Vision. He saw it—the slight shuffle, the tensing of the back leg. He's making room to hit me over cover.
Siddanth ran in. Full pace. He saw Rao's shuffle. He didn't bowl wide. He followed him, firing a 151kph missile straight at the base of the leg stump, where Rao had just been. Rao, in no position to play, was hit square on the boot. A deafening appeal. The umpire's finger went up. WICKET 1.
Ball 3: Halhadar Das, his roommate, walked in. The rookie. Siddanth was ruthless. He's my teammate. But right now, he's the target. He's terrified of the yorker.
Siddanth ran in. Das planted his back foot, ready to dig out the yorker.
It wasn't a yorker. It was a 148kph bouncer, aimed right at his throat.
Das, his mind on the 151kph yorker, was late. He tried to fend it off, a panicked, self-preservation flinch. The ball took the glove and looped, a pathetic, dying quail, straight to Laxman at slip, who took it as if plucking a grape. WICKET 2.
Ball 4: (To Symonds) 150kph. Blocked.
Ball 5: (To Symonds) 151kph. Blocked.
Ball 6: (To Symonds) Slower ball. Symonds waits... and taps for a Single.
Total: 2 runs, 2 wickets. Siddanth had broken the back of the chase.
He had two overs left. He bowled the 18th and 20th.
His mind was in charge. His body was the obedient weapon. It was a masterclass of death-bowling. He used his S-Rank Stamina to maintain his pace, but his tactics were all variations.
He conceded 4 runs in his third over and 8 runs in his final over, even as Symonds was swinging for the fences.
His final, glorious figures: 4 overs, 20 runs, 2 wickets.
Gilchrist's 'A's' finished on 178, 10 runs short. Laxman's 'B's' had won.
As they walked off, drenched in sweat, Robin Singh stood at the boundary line. He didn't smile. He just nodded at Siddanth as he passed.
"That," the coach said, his voice a low, respectful grumble, "was a professional spell of bowling, Deva. You got hit for six by Rohit yesterday, and you got hit for four by Gilly today. But you didn't panic. You didn't get stupid. You used your head. That's what I want to see."
Gilchrist, walking off behind him, slung a massive, sweaty arm over Siddanth's shoulders.
"That slower-ball, you cheeky bugger," Gilly laughed, his Aussie accent thick. "You almost got me with that! A 17-year-old with a 150kph rocket and a 105kph slower-ball... you're going to cause a lot of trouble, kid. Good on ya."
Siddanth just smiled, He was ready.
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A/N: For those asking for a female pair. I won't introduce her until he is like 23-24 years old. And also he is right now a middle order batsmen, but slowly he will be up the order.