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The sun was relentless in Chennai, beating down on the players as they battled it out on the dusty pitch at Chepauk Stadium.
The sound of bat on ball echoed across the field, but the mood among the Indian team was tense. India had lost early wickets—Rohit Sharma and Virat Kohli both going cheaply for just 6 runs each, and Shubman Gill was dismissed for a duck.
The crowd's mood mirrored that of the team's as they sat in the dressing room, watching their teammates grind through an uphill battle.
The commentators, sitting in the air-conditioned booth, were trying to make sense of what had happened.
"Well, it's been an uncharacteristically rocky start for India. But one name that stands out in this otherwise tense situation is Naima Prushka, the young dynamo from India. She's been the one shining bright in this tough situation, standing tall at 95 not out," one of them said, his voice full of admiration.
The other commentator added, "Absolutely. She's really made a name for herself in the last few years. If she scores that century today, she'll be joining the ranks of legends like Kohli, Tendulkar, and Ganguly. And there's no denying that she's got the talent to go the distance."
Naima stood confidently at the crease, adjusting her gloves, her focus razor-sharp. She was so close to that century, and she knew that she had to make it count.
Indian dressing room watched with bated breath as she exchanged a quiet word with Ravindra Jadeja, who was at the non-striker's end.
"Five more runs, girl . You've got this," Jadeja whispered, giving her a reassuring smile.
Naima grinned at him, her eyes filled with determination. "Watch me, Jaddu," she said, her voice full of confidence.
Her body language radiated focus, her stance steady as she faced the bowler, from Bangladesh. He ran up and delivered a sharp ball, but Naima, with the calm of someone who's done this a thousand times, took a step forward and lifted the ball cleanly over the boundary line.
The ball sailed over the rope, crossing the 100-run mark and earning her the century she so rightfully deserved.
The crowd erupted into cheers. Naima had made history again, and her teammates on the field couldn't help but raise their hands in celebration.
Jadeja raised his bat toward her in a salute, while the players in the dressing room stood and clapped for her achievement.
Shubman, who was sitting on the bench after his earlier dismissal, leaned back against the locker room wall. His eyes were fixed on Naima, a grin spreading across his face.
"That's my girl. Always killing it," he whispered, as his teammates around him gave him a look.
On the field, Naima stood, pulling off her helmet, and letting her long hair cascade down her shoulders, the volume making the moment even more spectacular.
She lifted both her hands in the air in victory, acknowledging the standing ovation from the crowd.
The commentators continued, "What a moment for Indian cricket! Naima Prushka, at just 24 years of age, has become the second-fastest player to reach a century for India in Test cricket. And look at the way she's carried the team through this rough patch—she's reminding us of the greats like Virat Kohli and the legendary Tendulkar. There's no denying it—she's one of the future stars of world cricket."
Shubman, still in his white jersey, couldn't contain his pride as he stood with the others. He muttered under his breath, "Fucking brilliant, Naima. You're killing me out here," a smile tugging at his lips.
He knew it wasn't just her cricketing skills that made her stand out, but the sheer grit and determination that ran through her. She was a force to be reckoned with, and no one knew it better than him.
Naima took a moment to soak it all in—cheering teammates, the roaring crowd, the flashing cameras. But as always, she stayed grounded, knowing that this was just one step in a much longer journey.
She turned to Jadeja, who was now clapping loudly and said, "Thanks for the support, Jaddu. Couldn't have done it without you."
Jadeja winked. "Teri century to meri century hai." His words were playful but heartfelt.
Naima let out a small laugh, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she looked around at her teammates—Rohit, Virat, KL, and all the others who had struggled but remained supportive.
In the dressing room, the players were on their feet, clapping, and a few of them were even shouting "Naima! Naima! Naima!"
Back on the field, Naima knew that she still had to keep her head in the game. She'd celebrated the century for a brief moment, but now she was focused once again.
As she and Jadeja prepared for the next delivery, the sound of her bat against the ball was as crisp as ever.
On the balcony, Shubman watched closely, his heart swelling with pride. "That's my girl. You're gonna take this whole damn world by storm."
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SOUP RANTS
Welcome to the thirty-eighth chapter of "The Man"! OUR GIRL IS SO SLAY what are your thoughts about the next chapter? anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! make sure to comment on what you liked! until then, yours truly soup 🫶
