Sharma Sir’s Last Lesson

Morning mist hung low over Jubilee Ground, curling around the boundary ropes like silent spectators. Arjun stood near the pitch, bat resting on his shoulder, heart thudding against his ribs. Today wasn't trials day — not yet. This was his final pre-trial session with Coach Sharma, the man who once told him, "Tere jaiso ko cricket system ya toh ignore karta hai, ya galat reason se yaad rakhta hai. Tera kaam hai system ko majboor karna ki tujhe seriously le."

(Players like you — the system either ignores you or remembers you for the wrong reasons. Your job is to force the system to take you seriously.)

Coach Sharma stood at the other end of the pitch, hands clasped behind his back, chewing on his usual paan. His gaze swept across the ground, pausing briefly on Arjun — scanning him like an old jeweller checking a raw diamond one last time before it hits the market.

Sharma Sir: "Kal trials hain. Tera asli exam wahi hai."

(Tomorrow is the trials. That's your real exam.)

Arjun gave a cocky smile. "Mohalla king ready hai, sir."

(The street king is ready, sir.)

Sharma walked over and lightly whacked Arjun's helmet.

Sharma Sir: "Mohalla king ki hawa utar dega pehla bouncer. Trials ka pitch Tunday Kababi ka table nahi hai. Wahan koi bhi tere naam se impressed nahi hoga."

(The first bouncer will deflate your street king ego. The trials pitch isn't your local food joint's table. No one's impressed by your name there.)

Arjun's smile faded, replaced by sharp focus.

The Pep Talk — Sharma Sir Style

Sharma Sir: "Sun. Talent tere paas hai, par trials pe talent se zyada dikhana padta hai — Tameez aur Technique."

(Listen. You have talent, but at trials you have to show more than that — respect and technique.)

Arjun: "Tameez se toh kab ka panga hai."

(I've never been friends with respect.)

Sharma Sir shook his head with a half-smile.

Sharma Sir: "Tameez ka matlab hai — discipline. Jo bola gaya, wahi karna. No unnecessary drama, no street stunts. Scouts ko feel hona chahiye yeh ladka 'coachable' hai."

(Respect means discipline. Do exactly what's asked. No unnecessary drama, no street tricks. The scouts need to feel you're coachable.)

Arjun nodded, absorbing the advice.

Sharma Sir: "Doosra, technique — jitna bhi talent hai, wo tabhi dikhega jab technique tight hai. Ball kaise leave karna hai, kaise backfoot pe late cut maarna hai — yeh sab dekh rahe honge. Tera swag unke kaam ka nahi hai."

(Second, technique — your talent only shows if your technique is tight. How you leave the ball, how you cut off the backfoot — they'll watch everything. Your swag doesn't matter to them.)

Arjun: "Toh full boring player ban ke khelna hai?"

(So I have to play like a boring player?)

Sharma Sir: "Nahi. Apna asli game dikha — but controlled aggression ke saath. Cricket ka maza dikhana hai, par soch ke khelna hai."

(No. Show your real game — but with controlled aggression. Show them your cricketing joy, but with smart choices.)

Final Gift

As Arjun picked up his kit, Sharma Sir tossed him an old, scuffed leather ball — the same one Arjun had smashed onto the roof in his first-ever practice here.

Sharma Sir: "Yeh ball yaad hai? Pehla din jab tu aaya tha — paan ki dukaan se seedha yahan."

(Remember this ball? The first day you came here — straight from the paan shop.)

Arjun grinned. "Aur us din aapne bola tha — is ball ko sambhal ke rakhna. Kabhi kabhi apne aukaad ko yaad dilana zaroori hota hai."

(And that day you said — keep this ball safe. Sometimes it's important to remember where you came from.)

Sharma Sir gave a small nod. "Kal jab batting karne utrega, pocket mein yeh ball rakhna. Tujhe yaad rahega — Mohalla se stadium ka safar sirf talent se nahi, attitude se poora hota hai."

(Tomorrow when you go to bat, keep this ball in your pocket. It'll remind you — the journey from street to stadium isn't just about talent, it's about attitude.)

📊 Sania System Reminder:

"Mohalla King se District Champion tak — progress 92%."

Arjun gripped the ball tightly and looked at the ground one last time before heading home. Tomorrow, this place wouldn't be his playground anymore. It would be his launchpad.