You are at the Lord’s.
It is not just another venue, it is the most iconic venue the sport has ever seen. Your team is struggling big time. All you could see around are heads hanging down.
Even your elite pace battery can’t get through the English batting unit with relative ease. None of that high speed is really troubling the English batters. As you watch it all unfold, you really start questioning your existence.
After all, you are a left-arm spinner. You have been picked as only a supporting cast and your goal really is only to chip in.
But now you have been thrown into the deep end.
Up against you is one of England’s greatest Test batters, Joe Root. At the other end, there is one of the cleanest strikers in Test cricket at the moment, Harry Brook. England didn’t even need to introduce their spinner.
So, no one really knew whether the conditions would favour the spinners. You flight your first ball, trying to get a bit of purchase off the surface. Then, as the over progresses, you drag it shorter to target the stumps.
Even without much purchase off the surface, you know that there’s something that could work in your favour, which is your consistency. Until the 55th over, there’s hardly any evidence that the ball will do anything.
But you believe in yourself because Brook got out, and there’s a left-handed Ben Stokes in front of you. You trust yourself to turn it a mile and make the ball crash into the stumps. That’s what forces you to flight the ball in your mind. You let your instincts take control.
You have bowled exactly 11 deliveries. Even when there isn’t evident turn, you trust your skillset. You know that it takes just one ball for the world to talk about you. And then, BOOM!
Lovely loop on the ball, a great grip, and there comes the sharp turn. The one you were expecting, but the batter Stokes wasn’t. He plays the shot early, and all he can do is now look at the pitch. The ball you bowled has turned a long mile; it has sent ripple waves across the world, and suddenly, the silence that filled around you has now burst into applause.
Even the most decorated and distinguished elites in the Northwest part of London are up on their feet. Even if that means their ties will get a little crumpled. You suddenly feel the energy; you are slowly now transforming from secondary support to putting yourself into the mix to be a hero here.
But you need to do more. There’s a bigger fish yet to be fried. He’s standing tall in front of you. He’s not putting a foot wrong. He’s going on the backfoot and punching you alright. But you also know that whenever he’s on his front foot, he’s having problems tackling you.
You see the pattern. You recognise it.
You know that there’s a bit of a gap between the bat and the stumps. You know what to do. But you got to be brave to attempt that. That’s where you save your best arm ball for the best English batter - Root. You serve it at an angle that makes it tough for Root to gauge, and in return, you disturb the off-timber.
Like Stokes, even Root stands there. He looks at the pitch; he has a quick look at you, almost in disbelief. After all, he’s stayed at the crease for 114 balls. But you throw a punch in the air.
You are no longer the supporting cast, you are the lead actor.
You are Gudakesh Motie, and you have painted the most beautiful art that the Lord’s would ever see.
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