Cherreads

Chapter 50 - Chapter 50: Flat Pitch, Sharp Eyes, and the Art of Not Impressing Too Hard

Flatter pitches were deceptive.

They whispered freedom—

and punished greed.

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## 🏟️ RANJI TROPHY – ROUND 3 

**Match:** Mumbai vs Rajasthan 

**Venue:** Brabourne Stadium 

**Pitch:** Flat, slow, zero early help 

**Selectors Present:** Yes (quietly, annoyingly)

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Aarav noticed them during warm-ups.

Three men.

Neutral blazers.

No reactions.

The most dangerous audience.

A senior teammate nudged him.

"Don't look," the man muttered. 

"They smell desperation."

Aarav nodded.

"Understood. I'll bat like I don't care."

The senior raised an eyebrow.

"That's… actually correct."

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## 🧠 SYSTEM – FLAT DECK PROTOCOL

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**Assistance:** Minimal 

**Reward for patience:** High 

**Punishment for ego:** Immediate 

**Template Priority:** 

✔ KL – Primary 

✔ AB – Controlled sparks 

✖ Steyn – Bowling later

**Objective:** 

➡️ Build big 

➡️ Don't chase applause 

➡️ Make selectors bored (in a good way)

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## 🏏 MUMBAI – INNINGS 1

Mumbai won the toss.

Chose to bat.

The openers went hard early.

Too hard.

Both fell within 12 overs.

Score: 61/2.

Aarav walked in, chewing gum.

A fielder chirped, 

"World Cup hero again?"

Aarav replied politely, 

"Not today. Today I'm a domestic employee."

The fielder frowned.

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## 🏏 SETTLING IN – BORING BUT EFFECTIVE

The ball came on nicely.

Too nicely.

Aarav resisted temptation.

Singles.

Defenses.

The occasional late cut.

From the balcony, a selector scribbled something.

Aarav pretended not to notice.

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## 📊 SCORE UPDATE

**Aarav:** 38 (62 balls) 

**Boundaries:** 3 

**Strike Rate:** 61.29 

A voice from mid-wicket whispered, 

"Strike rate dropping, kid."

Aarav smiled.

"So is your optimism."

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## 🎭 FUNNY MOMENT – THE MISCOUNT

After a solid push to cover, Aarav set off for a run.

His partner didn't.

Aarav ran halfway… then stopped.

Awkward silence.

Both batsmen stared at each other.

Aarav raised his bat apologetically.

"Communication error," he said. 

"My brain sent the email late."

The umpire hid a smile.

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## 🏏 THE SHIFT – CONTROLLED AGGRESSION

Post-lunch, the bowlers erred.

Aarav adjusted.

Not reckless.

Selective.

- Short ball: Pull (along the ground) 

- Overpitched: Straight drive 

- Spinner drifting: Inside-out over cover 

The AB template stirred.

But Aarav kept it on a leash.

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## 📊 MILESTONE WATCH

**Aarav:** 76 (118 balls)

The dressing room buzzed quietly.

No noise.

Just anticipation.

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## 🧠 SYSTEM ALERT – TEMPTATION PEAK

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⚠️ Crowd approval rising 

⚠️ Selector attention focused 

**Recommendation:** 

➡️ One boundary per over max 

➡️ Rotate strike after big shots

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Next ball.

Half-volley.

Aarav leaned into it.

*CRACK.*

Cover drive.

Four.

He nodded once.

Back to singles.

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## 🏏 THE HUNDRED – WITHOUT DRAMA

**Over 49.2**

Spinner floated it.

Aarav used his feet.

Not a slog.

Just placement.

Ball trickled past long-on.

Two runs.

He removed his helmet.

Raised the bat briefly.

No roar.

Just a clap from the balcony.

The right kind.

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## 📊 SCORECARD SNAPSHOT

**Aarav Malhotra:** 100 (146 balls) 

- Fours: 11 

- Sixes: 1 

- False Shots: 2 

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## 🗣️ SELECTOR WHISPER (UNHEARD, BUT FELT)

One selector leaned toward another.

"Different kind of hundred."

The other nodded.

"Repeatable."

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## 🏏 BOWLING – DOING THE OTHER JOB

Later, Aarav bowled with a softer ball.

No swing.

So he went defensive.

Back-of-a-length.

Cut off singles.

Built pressure.

Finally—

A rushed shot.

Mistimed.

Caught at mid-off.

Aarav jogged back, hand raised.

"Sorry," he told the batsman. 

"I set a trap and forgot to tell you."

The batsman didn't laugh.

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## 🧠 SYSTEM LOG – SELECTOR IMPRESSION

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✔ Second century in three matches 

✔ Shot selection mature 

✔ Ego management excellent 

**Hidden Metric:** 

🧠 *International Readiness Index* ↑

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## 🌙 STUMPS

Mumbai closed at 412/6.

Aarav sat quietly, unlacing his shoes.

A senior passed by.

"You know," the man said, 

"selectors like quiet centuries."

Aarav nodded.

"Good. Loud ones make me tired."

---

As he lay in bed that night, phone still face down, Aarav felt it.

Not excitement.

Not nerves.

Momentum.

And somewhere in the stands—

Eyes were following him home.

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--chapter 50 end--

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