Under the Nets, Beyond the Scoreboard

The First Step Into Something New

There’s a first time for everything, and sometimes it comes with nerves, laughter, and memories that stay long after the moment is gone. For me, Shehzad, and my friends — Bilal, Irfan, Umar, and Khalil — that “first time” was stepping into a closed cricket ground, the kind wrapped entirely in nets, where boundaries aren’t measured by distance but by the sound of a ball smacking against mesh.

We reached around 10 a.m., buzzing with excitement. None of us had ever played in a ground like this before. Outdoor cricket was part of our childhoods, but this indoor setup felt almost like entering another world.

The nets stretched tightly around us, enclosing the pitch, making the space feel both small and infinite at the same time. For a moment, we stood there silently, just soaking in the atmosphere. Then came the smiles, the playful nudges, and the rush to pick sides.

The Match That Wasn’t Just a Match

The first ball was bowled, and from that moment, everything turned electric. The ball hit the bat, smacked against the net, and bounced back in ways we weren’t used to. Every shot echoed louder, every cheer bounced off the walls.

We were like kids again, forgetting technique, forgetting competition — just running on pure adrenaline. Khalil’s wild swings, Bilal’s steady patience, Umar’s sudden bursts of energy, Irfan’s laughter after every miss, and me trying to hold it all together — it felt like a highlight reel in the making.

The nets didn’t just trap the ball; they trapped our joy inside, making it echo until we couldn’t help but laugh louder and play harder.

Losing, Yet Gaining Everything

After nearly two hours, by the time the clock struck 12 noon, the match came to an end. The scoreboard? Well, let’s just say we lost. But when I looked around at my friends’ sweaty faces, lit up with laughter, it didn’t feel like a loss at all.

Yes, we paid the rent — Rs. 1000 per hour — but every rupee felt like an investment into something far more valuable: an experience that money couldn’t really buy.

We lost the match, but we gained a memory that will live with us forever.

The Walk Back Home

Walking back after the match, bats on our shoulders and tired smiles on our faces, we replayed every highlight. Someone would remind Bilal of his mistimed shot, and we’d all burst into laughter. Umar teased Irfan for his dropped catch, while Khalil bragged about the one six he managed to hit.

Our steps were heavy with exhaustion, but our hearts were light. That walk home wasn’t just about going back; it was about carrying something with us — the reminder that joy doesn’t need a trophy, that sometimes the moments we remember most are born in the places we least expect.

More Than Just a Game

Looking back now, I realize that day wasn’t about cricket alone. It was about friendship, about stepping into something new, about finding happiness in the simplest of places. We may have lost on the field, but we won something far greater — the kind of bond that only grows stronger with shared memories.

And that’s the beauty of it: some games are not about the score at all.

Author’s Note ✍️

If this little cricket memory brought back your own childhood games or made you smile, don’t forget to leave a ❤️ or drop a comment below. After all, stories live longer when they’re shared.