Date: December 25th, 2012.
Location: M. Chinnaswamy Stadium, Bangalore.
Event: 1st T20I, Pakistan Tour of India.
The chill of the Bangalore winter was entirely neutralized by the searing heat radiating from forty thousand screaming fans inside the M. Chinnaswamy Stadium.
It was Christmas Day, but the mood was anything but peaceful. It was India versus Pakistan. The mother of all cricketing battles.
The Indian team was riding a massive wave of momentum. The highly anticipated home series against Alastair Cook's England had just concluded. Siddanth Deva had successfully altered history. He had decoded the English spinners, Graeme Swann and Monty Panesar, executing a masterclass in reading the ball from the hand. India had crushed England 3-1 in the Test series and swept the T20Is. Deva had been named Player of the Series in both formats.
But England was business. Pakistan was emotion.
In the broadcast box, the energy was electric.
"A very warm welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to what promises to be an absolute blockbuster of a Christmas evening!" the booming baritone of Ravi Shastri echoed through millions of television sets globally. "The stadium is packed to the rafters. The flags are waving. India takes on Pakistan in the first of two T20 Internationals, and let me tell you, the atmosphere here in Bangalore is absolutely electric!"
"You can feel the goosebumps, Ravi,"Ramiz Raja chimed in. "Pakistan is visiting India for a bilateral series after five long years. Both teams look dangerous. India is coming off a massive victory against England, spearheaded by their young phenom, Siddanth Deva. Pakistan, under Mohammad Hafeez, has a lethal bowling attack. It's going to be fire meets fire."
Down in the center, MS Dhoni and Mohammad Hafeez stood in their tracksuits for the toss. The coin went up. Hafeez called tails.
"Pakistan has won the toss," Shastri announced, "And Hafeez has elected to field first. Given the dew factor expected later tonight in Bangalore, chasing might be the right call."
The Indian XI: Rohit Sharma, Ajinkya Rahane, Virat Kohli, Siddanth Deva (VC), Yuvraj Singh, Suresh Raina, MS Dhoni (C/WK), Bhuvneshwar Kumar (Debut), R Ashwin, Ashok Dinda, Ishant Sharma.
"Alright boys," Dhoni clapped his hands, adjusting his keeping gloves. "They have a good pace attack. Umar Gul, Sohail Tanvir, Saeed Ajmal. Don't throw your wickets away early. Build a base. Sid, Virat, Yuvi... you know what to do at the death. Let's give the crowd a Merry Christmas."
---
Rohit Sharma and Ajinkya Rahane walked out to the middle.
The Pakistani opening bowlers, Mohammad Irfan—the towering seven-foot giant—and Sohail Tanvir, started tightly. Irfan's steep bounce troubled Rahane initially, but the Indian openers weathered the early storm. They didn't take unnecessary risks, opting to build a solid foundation.
By the end of the Powerplay, India was a stable 42/0.
They kept rotating the strike, occasionally punishing the bad balls. The partnership crossed the 70-run mark. It was methodical, but the Bangalore crowd, hungry for sixes, was getting slightly restless.
In the 11th over, the breakthrough came. Saeed Ajmal, the wily off-spinner, tossed one up. Rahane came dancing down the track, missed the doosra entirely, and Kamran Akmal whipped the bails off.
"He's gone! Brilliant piece of bowling by Ajmal!" Ramiz Raja noted. "Rahane departs for a well-made 42. But now, walking out to the middle is the run-machine himself, Virat Kohli."
Kohli arrived with his signature aggressive intent, immediately tapping the ball around and running hard between the wickets. However, the Pakistani spinners had found their rhythm. The scoring rate dipped.
In the 13th over, disaster struck. Umar Gul bowled a brilliant, dipping slower yorker. Rohit Sharma, attempting to flick it over mid-wicket, was trapped dead in front of the stumps. The umpire raised his finger immediately.
"Plumb in front! Gul strikes!" Shastri roared. "Rohit Sharma is gone for 40. India is 85 for 2 in the 13th over. They need to accelerate, and accelerate fast."
The stadium erupted into a deafening, unified chant as the next man walked out of the dugout.
DE-VA! DE-VA! DE-VA!
Up in the North Stand, amidst the sea of fans, twenty-one-year-old Rohan practically dropped his bucket of popcorn. He was wearing a slightly faded blue jersey with DEVA 6 printed proudly on the back.
"He's here," Rohan gasped, grabbing his friend Rahul's shoulder and shaking him violently. "Rahul, look! The Devil is walking out!"
"I see him, man, stop dislocating my collarbone!" Rahul laughed, though he was standing up on his seat, his eyes glued to the pitch.
Siddanth Deva stalked to the center, twirling his bat. He didn't jog. He moved with a cold, predatory swagger. As he marked his guard with his spikes, the Pakistani fielders noticeably tightened up.
There was no sledging. Not today. They had tried before to get into his head with words, only to watch their bowling figures get obliterated into the stratosphere.
Umar Gul stood at the top of his mark, looking decidedly wary. Hafeez, the captain, was already pacing, nervously adjusting his fielders before a single ball had been bowled.
Kohli was at the non-striker's end, nodding at him. "Time to go, Sid."
"I know," Deva replied softly.
In the 15th over, just as the partnership was building, Kohli tried to take on Shahid Afridi. He aimed for a massive slog-sweep but top-edged it straight into the hands of deep square leg. India was 105/3.
Yuvraj Singh walked out to massive cheers.
But the crowd, and especially Rohan and his friends in the North Stand, didn't know that they were about to witness a localized natural disaster.
Overs: 15.0. Score: 105/3.
Deva was on strike. Sohail Tanvir, the unorthodox left-arm pacer, had the ball.
Deva's stance shifted slightly, becoming hyper-dynamic.
15.1: Tanvir bowled a full delivery on middle stump, angling across. Deva stepped across his stumps, exposing all three, dropped to one knee, and executed a flawless, physics-defying scoop shot. The ball sailed over the fine-leg boundary for a colossal SIX.
Up in the North Stand, Rohan lost his mind. "DID YOU SEE THAT?! HE DIDN'T EVEN LOOK AT THE BALL! AAAAAAH!" Rohan screamed, hugging a complete stranger next to him.
"WHAT A SHOT!" Shastri bellowed. "First ball of the 16th over, and Siddanth Deva has scooped a fast bowler over fine leg for a colossal six! Absolute audacity!"
15.2: Tanvir, rattled, overcompensated by bowling a wide yorker. Deva hung back in his crease, opened the face of the bat, and sliced it with brutal power over point for a flat FOUR.
15.3: Tanvir dragged it short. Deva rocked onto his back foot and pulled it savagely like a bullet through mid-wicket for another one-bounce FOUR.
15.4: Deva took a smart single off his fourth ball to rotate the strike.
(Deva: 15 runs off 4 balls).
Down on the pitch, absolute panic set in for Pakistan. Mohammad Hafeez was frantically waving his hands, running from mid-off to point, then to cover, trying to plug gaps that didn't exist. He looked helplessly at Saeed Ajmal, who just shrugged. How do you set a field for a man who can hit the same ball over third man or over mid-wicket on a whim?
In the 17th over, Yuvraj Singh, struggling to find his timing against Ajmal, was caught at long-on for a scratchy 10. Dhoni nudged his first ball for a quick single but fell on his very next delivery in the following over for 1(2), trying to clear long-off. Suddenly, a stable innings was looking shaky at 130/5.
Suresh Raina walked out, looking tense. He tapped his first ball of the 18th over for a single, bringing Deva back on strike against Umar Gul.
Over 18:
17.2: Gul aimed for a reverse-swinging yorker at the toes. Deva's [Chronos Perception] slowed the ball down. He brought his bat down in a lightning-fast arc, executing the patented 'Helicopter Shot'. The crack of the willow echoed like a gunshot. The ball disappeared over the long-on roof for SIX.
17.3: Gul, sweating profusely, tried a slower bouncer. Deva waited an eternity for it, swiveled, and hooked it into the top tier of the deep square leg stands for another SIX.
17.4: The next ball was in the slot. Deva stood tall and drove it straight back over the bowler's head, shattering a plastic chair in the VIP enclosure for his third consecutive SIX.
17.5: Gul went wide. Deva opened the face of the bat, slicing the delivery beautifully for FOUR over extra cover.
17.6: He squeezed a fast yorker to short third man and sprinted for a tight single, smartly retaining the strike for the 19th over.
(Deva: 38 runs off 9 balls).
Rohan and his friends were hoarse from screaming. They weren't even sitting down anymore; they were just bouncing on their feet, holding their heads in disbelief. "HE'S NOT HUMAN! HE'S A CHEAT CODE!"
Saeed Ajmal was given the ball for the 19th over. The world's premier off-spinner against the Devil.
Over 19:
18.1: Ajmal bowled his mystery doosra. Deva read it from the wrist, stepped down the track, and launched it into orbit over long-off for SIX.
18.2: Ajmal darted it into the pads. Deva swept it powerfully backward of square. They ran hard and completed two runs.
18.3: Ajmal, visibly shaking, bowled a wide, loopy full toss outside off. Deva slashed at it violently, sending it screaming past the point fielder for a massive SIX.
"FIFTY OFF JUST 12 BALLS! THIS IS NOT BATTING, THIS IS A VIDEO GAME!" Shastri roared, his voice cracking.
(Deva: 52 runs off 12 balls).
18.4: Deva simply raised his bat to the roaring crowd, then quickly tapped the next ball for a single to get off strike.
Over 20: In the 20th over, he expertly farmed the strike, denying Raina more than a single early in the over. Facing four of the six deliveries, he hammered three colossal boundaries and ran hard for twos, treating the death bowling like a net session.
When the innings finally ended, India had posted a mammoth 208/5.
The scoreboard read Deva's absolute carnage: 72 Not Out off 17 balls. Raina, walking off alongside him, just shook his head and offered a low bow. Up in the stands, Rohan had completely lost his voice, communicating his awe purely through wild hand gestures.
---
The teams returned to the field. Pakistan needed 209 to win. A mammoth task, but the Bangalore pitch was excellent for batting, and the evening dew was beginning to settle, making the ball slippery.
MS Dhoni tossed the new ball to the debutant.
Bhuvneshwar Kumar, a slim, unassuming 22-year-old from Meerut, marked his run-up. His hands were trembling slightly. The pressure was unimaginable. Making your international debut against Pakistan, defending a massive total in a packed stadium.
Deva walked up to him from mid-off, stepping into the youngster's personal space. He placed a heavy, reassuring hand on Bhuvi's shoulder.
"Breathe, Bhuvi," Deva said, his voice a calm, anchoring presence amidst the noise. "The pitch is doing plenty under these lights. Don't try to force the pace. Don't try to bowl 140. Just kiss the surface and let it swing. We've got your back. Just bowl your natural game."
Bhuvi looked at the Vice-Captain, swallowed hard, and nodded, visibly relaxing.
He bowled his first ball in international cricket to Nasir Jamshed. It pitched outside off and swung away slightly. A dot ball.
For the next four balls, Bhuvi was brilliant, keeping it tight, conceding only two runs.
Then came the magic of the final ball of the first over.
Bhuvi pitched it perfectly on middle-and-off, on a good length. Jamshed played for the line, expecting the ball to hold its trajectory. Instead, the ball jagged back viciously in the air—a wicked, late inswinger. It breached Jamshed's defense instantly and shattered the top of middle stump.
"BOWLED HIM! WHAT A DEBUT! WHAT A START!" Shastri exploded in the box. "Bhuvneshwar Kumar, remember the name! He has castled Nasir Jamshed with an absolute peach of an inswinger in his very first over!"
The Indian team swarmed the debutant. Deva ruffled Bhuvi's hair, grinning wildly. "That's how you do it man!"
MS Dhoni caught Deva's eye. The Captain gave a slow, proud nod, acknowledging his deputy's role in calming the nervous rookie.
Bhuvi's confidence skyrocketed. In his second over, he produced a masterclass of swing bowling, picking up two more wickets to break the back of the Pakistani top order.
---
Despite the early collapse, Pakistan wasn't a team to surrender easily. Captain Mohammad Hafeez and the veteran Kamran Akmal were at the crease.
Realizing the required run rate was climbing rapidly, they decided to counter-attack. They went after Ashok Dinda and Ishant Sharma. Hafeez hit two elegant boundaries through the covers, while Akmal deployed his aggressive pull shots over mid-wicket.
The partnership grew to 45 runs in just five overs. The dew was making it harder for the Indian bowlers to grip the ball.
In the 9th over, Dhoni looked around the field. He tossed the ball to his Deva. It was time for the enforcer.
Deva marked his run-up.
He steamed in for his first over, bowling an absolute maiden of pure fire, consistently hitting 150 kmph and putting Hafeez in a straitjacket.
Deva was brought back for his second over in the 11th. Kamran Akmal was on strike. Akmal was a naturally aggressive player who thrived on utilizing the pace of the ball, especially square of the wicket. He loved to cut and pull.
Deva stood at the top of his mark. His analyzed Akmal's body language. The Pakistani wicketkeeper was twitchy, desperate to release the pressure building from the climbing run rate. He was going to swing hard.
Deva walked up to Dhoni. "Mahi bhai, field change."
Deva began orchestrating a bizarre web.
He brought Point and Cover-Point sharply inside the thirty-yard circle. He moved Third Man up into the ring. Most incredibly, he completely emptied the deep off-side, leaving Deep Point entirely vacant. He pushed his fielders to the leg-side boundaries, meticulously ensuring no more than five fielders were outside the circle, and exactly two were positioned behind square on the leg side to keep the formation strictly legal.
MS Dhoni walked up, frowning deeply, tapping his gloves together. "Sid, it's a huge gap," Dhoni warned, looking at the empty boundary. "If he cuts, it's an automatic four. It's too risky with the dew."
Deva didn't flinch. "He won't cut, Mahi bhai. He's twitchy. I'm going to jam him high on the ribs with a heavy cross-seam ball. He'll panic, abandon the cut, and try to pull. Keep Virat at deep square leg."
Dhoni looked skeptical but nodded. "Your funeral if it goes for four, V-C."
Deva walked back to his mark. He ran in.
He didn't bowl a wide, cuttable delivery. He bowled a heavy, cross-seam delivery at 153 kmph, pitching it short and angling it viciously into Akmal's armpit.
Akmal, pre-meditating a shot to the vacant point boundary, found himself cramped for room by the sheer, terrifying pace and the angle of the ball. Panicking as the leather zoomed towards his ribs, exactly as Deva had predicted, Akmal abandoned the cut and instinctively went for a desperate, reactionary pull shot.
Because of the pace and the cross-seam bounce, Akmal couldn't get over the ball. He top-edged the pull.
The ball flew high into the Bangalore night sky.
It travelled straight towards the Deep Square Leg boundary—exactly where Deva had placed Virat Kohli.
Kohli settled under it, his eyes tracking the white ball against the dark sky, and pouched it safely.
"CAUGHT! A BRILLIANT TACTICAL TRAP!" Shastri roared in absolute delight. "Siddanth Deva has out-thought Kamran Akmal! He set the field for the cut, baited the batsman, bowled a heavy ball into the ribs, and forced the mistake! That is the mind of a tactical genius at work!"
The stadium erupted. Dhoni jogged past Deva, a wide smile on his face, tapping his helmet in a silent gesture of 'Brilliant brain.'
With Akmal gone, the Pakistani middle order crumbled under the mounting required run rate. Shahid Afridi came in and hit one massive six off Ashwin before being deceived by a carrom ball. Shoaib Malik struggled to find the boundary against Deva's disciplined, laser-guided pace.
Deva finished his four-over quota with astonishing figures:
4 Overs, 1 Maiden, 14 Runs, 2 Wickets.
The rest of the Indian bowlers, bolstered by the massive total, choked the life out of the chase. Pakistan managed to scrape their way to 154/8 in their 20 overs.
India had won the match by 54 runs.
The post-match presentation was a formality. Ravi Shastri called Deva up to the podium to receive the Man of the Match award for his astonishing 72 not out and 2 wickets. The deafening applause from the Bangalore crowd washed over the stadium.
Deva took the heavy trophy and the microphone from Shastri. He looked at the award, then looked down at his teammates standing near the boundary rope.
"It's always an honor to win this," Deva said, his voice echoing through the stadium speakers. "But honestly, scoring runs on a good batting pitch is my job. Walking out on your international debut, against your arch-rivals, and swinging the ball like a wizard under immense pressure? That is truly special."
Deva pointed towards the young debutant who was trying to hide behind Ishant Sharma.
"Bhuvi, come up here," Deva valled him with a warm smile.
Bhuvneshwar Kumar looked shocked, his eyes wide. Dhoni nudged him forward, patting his back. The slim pacer shyly walked up the steps to the podium.
Deva handed the massive Man of the Match trophy directly into Bhuvi's hands.
"Three wickets on debut to break their top order," Deva said into the mic, putting an arm around the overwhelmed youngster. "This belongs to the Swing Prince. Welcome to international cricket, brother."
The stadium erupted in a standing ovation. The gesture of the Vice-Captain giving away his award to a debutant was the perfect Christmas gift to the fans. Bhuvi, blushing furiously, held the trophy tight, whispering a continuous stream of "Thank you, Sid."
As the broadcast cameras prepared to sign off, the real celebration began on the pitch.
Suddenly, ground staff sprinted onto the field wheeling a massive table. On top of it sat a colossal, multi-tiered Christmas cake decorated with edible cricket bats and red and green icing.
From the dugout, MS Dhoni emerged, holding a massive bundle of cheap, red Santa hats. He tossed them out to the squad.
Within seconds, the most formidable cricket team in the world looked like a chaotic holiday party. Virat Kohli shoved a Santa hat onto his head at a rakish angle. Suresh Raina put one on Deva.
"Merry Christmas, Bangalore!" Deva shouted into a stray microphone.
Dhoni cut the cake with a massive knife. He handed the first slice politely to Bhuvneshwar Kumar to celebrate his debut.
But courtesy didn't last long.
Kohli grabbed a massive handful of chocolate frosting and, with the speed of a top-order batsman, launched it squarely into Deva's face. It hit him right on the cheek, splattering over his nose.
"That's for the 72 runs!" Kohli laughed hysterically. "You made us look bad!"
Deva wiped the frosting from his eye. A predatory glint appeared. "Oh, it is war."
Deva scooped up a literal brick of cake and sprinted after Kohli, who shrieked and ran towards the boundary rope. Deva tackled him near the North Stand, smudging the cake entirely over Kohli's hair and face.
Raina joined the fray, ambushing Ishant Sharma from behind. Soon, half the Indian team was covered in chocolate and vanilla cream, slipping on the grass, laughing like children.
Up in the North Stand, Rohan and his friends watched their idols acting like lunatics, their sides hurting from laughing.
As the players continued their messy, joyous lap of honor, their red Santa hats bobbing in the sea of blue, Siddanth Deva realized that breaking records was fun, but sharing a slice of cake with his brothers on a cool Bangalore night was the real magic of the game.