The GOAT of Cricket

**Barbados, Caribbean — July 2016**

Three days separated Ishaan Verma from his next T20I. But on this sunlit July morning in Trinidad, time felt like a gentle exhale. After his record-breaking debut, Team India had earned a rest day before flying to Barbados for the second match.

Inside his hotel room, Ishaan stared at the India cap resting on the desk. Next to it, his kitbag held a Player of the Match trophy. In all the noise of flashing cameras and social media storms, here was silence. Stillness.

And for the first time in years, Ishaan wasn't chasing anything. He had arrived. At least, for now.

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### Wheels Up

At 8:00 AM sharp, the team bus rolled out toward Grantley Adams International Airport. Ishaan sat near the window, Virat Kohli beside him, tapping rhythmically on a portable speaker that played Lata Mangeshkar remixed into reggae beats.

"Barbados is the queen of the Caribbean," Virat said, adjusting his sunglasses. "Beaches, history, Rihanna. What else do you need?"

Yuzvendra Chahal leaned forward from the back seat. "If we find Rihanna, we retire from international cricket."

Laughter filled the bus.

Hardik Pandya added, "Only if she agrees to play gully cricket with us."

Even Rohit Sharma cracked a grin. The mood was light, easy—like a team on a family holiday.

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### Paradise Landing

The wheels touched down in Barbados at 10:54 AM. A soft Caribbean breeze greeted them as they stepped onto the tarmac.

From the hotel near Carlisle Bay, Ishaan's fifth-floor balcony revealed an ocean painted in turquoise, melting into white sands and endless sky.

He snapped a photo, sent it to Meera.

**Caption:** "Wish you were here."

Her reply buzzed seconds later:

**"I am. Every step."**

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### Adventures Begin — Harrison's Cave

By noon, a mini-excursion was in motion. Virat had organized a local guide and a black Toyota van. With Kohli up front beside the driver, and Hardik, Rohit, Chahal, and Ishaan sprawled in the back, the journey began.

First stop: Harrison's Cave.

As they descended into the limestone labyrinth, guided trams wove through shimmering stalactites and underground rivers. Yellow lights bounced off crystal walls.

"Looks like the Batcave met a jewellery store," Ishaan muttered.

Hardik pointed at a glowing pool. "If a genie shows up, I'm asking for a Test hundred."

Chahal added, "I'd settle for a no-ball wicket."

Kohli, arms crossed, smiled. "Or just a sharp fielding effort, maybe?"

As they exited, Virat nudged Ishaan. "This cave was hidden for centuries. Took people time to find its value. Just like talent."

Ishaan didn't reply. But the smile stayed.

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### Bathsheba & the Soup Bowl

Next stop: Bathsheba village. Rugged Atlantic waves thundered against massive mushroom-shaped boulders. Surfers sliced through the sea at the famed Soup Bowl.

Rohit stood at the shore, shielding his eyes. "I'd break both ankles trying that."

"You'd break a coconut just stepping in," Chahal quipped.

They laughed, sipped coconut water, shared flying fish sandwiches, and signed autographs for curious locals.

A group of Indian-origin students on a field trip recognized Ishaan. He posed for selfies, wrote a short message on one boy's bat — *"Dreams run faster than fear. Keep chasing."*

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### St. Nicholas Abbey — Colonial Echoes

By afternoon, they reached St. Nicholas Abbey — a 17th-century rum distillery wrapped in history and haunting beauty. Inside, oak barrels lined the walls, the air thick with molasses and memory.

While the others sampled aged rum, Ishaan declined.

"Not a fan?" asked the guide.

"I'd rather remember every moment," Ishaan said.

Rohit raised his glass. "To the boy who reminds us what firsts feel like."

The team echoed, "Cheers!"

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### Golden Hour at Carlisle Bay

The van returned just as the sun began its descent. Players peeled off shoes and sank into beach loungers.

Virat jogged along the shore.

Hardik and Chahal attempted a lopsided sandcastle.

Rohit dozed under a tree.

Ishaan sat still, phone in hand.

He opened a saved note — Raghav Verma's final letter.

*"When you score your first century for India, look up. I'll be there."*

"I didn't get a hundred, Dada," he whispered, "but I think you'd still clap for fifty."

He snapped a photo of the sunset and sent it to Meera.

Her reply: **"He's clapping louder than all of us."**

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### Back to Business

Evening came. The team regrouped in the hotel's conference room. Bowling coach Bharat Arun and fielding coach R. Sridhar mapped strategies on a whiteboard.

Plans for Chris Gayle. Traps for Pollard. Where Ishaan should field.

After the meeting, Kohli approached him.

"You know what I liked the most about your debut?"

"The strike rate?" Ishaan grinned.

Kohli shook his head. "Your calm. The greats don't just attack. They compose. You conducted that innings like a symphony."

Ishaan folded his arms. "Let's write another tomorrow."

"Damn right," Kohli said, ruffling his hair.

---

As Ishaan slipped into bed, the ocean murmuring in the distance, he realized something.

Cricket hadn't just given him dreams — it had taken him across oceans, carved friendships from pressure, and allowed him to carry ghosts with grace.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, the island wouldn't just be beautiful.

It would be another battleground.

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