By Duong Huynh 
Getting Smashed in My Club Match
So yeah, last Tuesday night was rough. Played for my local club against some youngsters fresh off academy training. These kids batted like demons! Smashed me all over the park, especially during the powerplay overs. My line and length felt totally off. Tried yorkers, ended up full tosses. Went for slower balls, got clobbered for sixes. Felt ancient standing out there.
Drove home that night feeling pretty crappy, windows down, cricket gear stinking up the back seat. Kept replaying those boundaries in my head. Needed a change, something to get back some rhythm across all formats.
Digging Out the Old Net Gear
Next morning, I was determined. Didn’t even bother with fancy kit. Dug out my oldest pair of spikes – the leather cracked and stiff. Found this half-mangled tennis ball I used for indoor drills years back. Grabbed my bat, the one with all the scratches, not the shiny new one. Headed down to the empty public nets near my place.
My plan was stupid simple:
- Hit Against The Wall: Just me, the cracked wall, and this red tennis ball. Focused purely on the sound. Did it for ages, ignoring technique, just getting the sound right. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
- Shadow Batting in the Garage: Wife thought I’d lost it. Just standing there after dinner in dim garage light, repeating shots without a ball. Front foot drive. Back foot punch. Felt silly, but something clicked.
- Bowling Hand Exercises: Found an old stress ball. Squeezed it constantly while watching boring TV. Cooking dinner? Squeezing the ball. Fingers got tired fast.
Grinding Through the Formats
Knew I needed different feels for Tests, ODIs, T20s.
The Test Match Mindset
Found an old spot near the river park early Sunday. Hardly anyone around. Took my bat and a single ball.
Played this dumb game: Hit the ball along the ground, super slow, straight back past an imaginary bowler. Goal? Hit it 20 times without missing once. Sounds easy? Wind blew it off course, bad bounce made it jump. Took me almost an hour! Sweaty palms, aching shoulders. But it forced patience. Like watching paint dry, but for cricket.
ODIs – That Middle Grind
Needed something different. Went back to the public nets later. Set up markers using my water bottle and spare shoe. Made zones. “Safe” singles area, “Aggressive” boundaries area.
Tried bowling slow-medium stuff to myself. Ran in, bowled, then immediately swapped to be the batsman facing my own “delivery”. Tried working the ball into my made-up zones based on where I “bowled” it. Felt ridiculous, tripping over my own feet half the time. Sweat dripping into my eyes. But started seeing gaps where I could just nudge it instead of forcing big shots.
T20 – Embrace the Chaos
This was scary. Got a mate to come down Wednesday evening. Told him, “Mate, just chuck balls at me anywhere you like. Don’t warn me. Short stuff, full tosses, whatever.”
He laughed but did it. First few minutes were ugly. Missed everything. Swore a lot. Got hit on the thigh pad hard. But then… started reacting, not thinking. Scooped a yorker somehow. Clobbered a wide one over point’s head. Laughed like a maniac when a top-edge flew over the keeper. No technique, just pure feel and trying to hit it hard.
Bag Check – Brutal Honesty
Went through my kit bag when packing last night. Found some useless junk I was carrying like good luck charms:
- Fancy Swing Ball Tape: Used once, made the ball feel greasy. Sticky.
- Overpriced “Wrist Strengthener”: A plastic gyro thing. Used it for two days. Wrist hurt. Went in the bin.
- Old Coaching Notes: Scribbles saying “Rotate Shoulder Axis” or “Weight Transfer at Point X.” Meaningless under pressure.
Threw almost all the gimmicks out. Keeping it simple now.
Now?
Playing again this weekend. Honestly? I don’t feel like a “New God.” That’s clickbait nonsense. But I feel less lost. Batting feels less stiff. Bowling line feels natural again without forcing it. Mostly? Enjoying it more. Less thinking about “format”, more just playing the ball in front of me. Maybe that’s the real tip: Forget the labels, just hit the damn thing.
Dung Huynh 