RVIP: The Coach Learns His Apprentice’s Last Rebound

1. RVIP story: The coach's hand is shaking

On the morning of the doubles final, Prakash could not thread the cord through his striker pouch. His fingers were stiff, and the small opening kept turning away from him.

Naveed watched for a moment, then held the pouch steady. He did not take the cord out of the older man's hand.

At twenty-six, he had spent years being treated as an extension of that hand. Prakash, now fifty-six, had taught him carrom and then described every successful idea as proof of his own coaching.

When Naveed asked to be named on a demonstration booklet he had helped design, Prakash told the adult class, “First learn to win without me.”

The younger players laughed. Naveed left the booklet on the table and stopped attending.

Two years later, Prakash's celebrated doubles players moved to another club. They said his methods had become slow. One of them suggested he could still help arrange boards before events.

Now those same players, Arjun and Vivek, waited in the final. Naveed and Prakash had reached it through seven weeks of an uneasy return to practice.

The cord finally passed through the pouch.

Prakash looked up. “Thank you.”

Naveed nodded and picked up his own bag. The final would demand more than an older man saying the right words before play.

Across the board, they would have to trust work each had learned to perform from the other's side.

2. The first practice ends in an argument

Prakash had called Naveed after losing his regular partners. Naveed answered on the second attempt and agreed to one practice evening.

The first hour went badly. Prakash explained every miss before Naveed could inspect it. When a rebound worked, he said it was exactly what he had always taught.

Naveed placed the striker on the baseline and stood up.

“I came to play with you. If you only need somebody to demonstrate your sentences, call someone else.”

Prakash began to reply, then looked at the empty chair opposite him. The club room held several such chairs now.

He asked Naveed to sit again.

They replayed the missed rebound. From Prakash's side, the line looked straightforward. From Naveed's opposite seat, a small obstruction changed the available contact. Prakash had been describing a stroke that the younger player could not actually take from his position.

They changed seats.

The older man missed it twice.

Naveed did not laugh. He showed the smaller contact point and the reduced speed needed to keep the striker from opening the opponent's pieces.

Prakash made the third attempt.

For the rest of the evening they described what the player could see from the actual baseline before giving advice.

At closing time, Prakash wrote the position down and put Naveed's name beside the adjustment. The younger man read it, then agreed to return on Saturday.

3. Opposite sides do not share one angle

Their practice became a study of opposite viewpoints.

They would place three own carrommen and several opposing ones in fixed positions, then play from each partner's seat in turn. A shot that was nearly impossible from one baseline could become simple from the opposite side after a modest positional change.

Naveed was better at reading those changes. Prakash remained steadier at some thin cuts and at judging when a queen attempt had a realistic cover.

Neither strength worked if the other player was treated as an assistant.

They practised turns that ended without a pocket but improved the partner's likely next opportunity. The opponent would play in between, so the exercise always included an adversary trying to punish the setup. They could not assume the board would return unchanged.

Sometimes the positional choice failed badly. An opposing piece opened, or the striker stopped where it created an easy reply. They wrote those failures down too.

During practice review, they discussed the choices openly. During live boards, there would be no hints, gestures or instructions between partners.

Prakash found the silence hardest. He had spent years believing that coaching meant filling every pause with his voice.

Naveed found waiting hardest. He wanted the older man to recognise the value of a quiet setup immediately.

By the third week, both could leave a board unfinished, study what the opponent could do next and begin again without turning the mistake into a contest over seniority.

4. The booklet returns to the table

At the end of the fourth week, Prakash brought the old demonstration booklet.

Naveed recognised the diagrams he had helped construct. Several showed positions viewed only from the coach's seat. The omissions were now obvious to both men.

Prakash placed a pen beside it.

“I should have named your work.”

Naveed opened the booklet to the page that had caused their argument two years earlier.

“This one was mine from the start.”

“Yes.”

“And the rebound on the next page.”

Prakash turned the page and agreed again.

They corrected the acknowledgements and added the second viewing angle to the relevant diagrams. The work took longer than the apology. Naveed preferred that.

At the next adult session, Prakash used the corrected pages and identified the adjustments as Naveed's. One of the older members asked why the names had changed. Prakash answered plainly, without calling the earlier omission a misunderstanding.

Naveed stayed to play afterwards.

Their first competition together ended in a semifinal defeat. Prakash missed an important cover; Naveed later overhit a difficult cut. They analysed both errors at the same table.

Naveed circled both missed strokes on the same review sheet, placing his own error above the coach’s. They booked the next practice before leaving.

On the fifth week's first evening, Naveed arrived early and found Prakash already setting the positions from the younger player's side.

5. The stars are still strong

Arjun and Vivek reached the final with powerful, accurate play. They controlled open boards well and punished opponents who left loose pieces near easy pockets.

Before the match, Arjun greeted Naveed and asked whether he had become Prakash's new pair of hands.

Naveed placed his bag beneath his chair. “You'll see both of us.”

Prakash heard but did not answer for him.

The first game went to the former stars. Vivek covered the queen cleanly on a crucial board, and Arjun converted the next opening without scattering his partner's remaining pieces.

Naveed and Prakash had to adjust the speed to the competition surface. Their practice board had been slightly slower. Several early strokes travelled too far and gave away access.

Between games they discussed the problem briefly. During the second game they used smaller contact and selected safer routes on uncertain banks.

Prakash declined a queen attempt when the likely cover was too poor. Naveed then cleared a difficult own piece, leaving a more manageable board for the next turn.

They won the second game through a sequence of narrow boards. The match stood one game each.

Arjun stopped joking. Vivek asked for the official score to be read again before the decider.

The older man flexed his fingers under the table. Naveed dried his hands and looked at the opposite baseline, where his partner would have to do his own work.

6. Eight boards are not enough

The deciding game reached the end of eight boards with the score tied at twenty-two points each. Another board was required to break the equality.

Both sides had earned the tie. Naveed had rescued an awkward position with a careful bank. Prakash had missed a straightforward cut. Arjun and Vivek had alternated strong runs with costly errors under pressure.

The ninth board began with everyone aware that a few remaining carrommen could settle the match.

At scores of twenty-two, the queen no longer added its earlier three-point bonus. It still had to be handled according to the rules as the board developed.

Vivek pocketed and covered it during a productive turn. The play continued.

Eventually each pair had three own carrommen remaining. Naveed's turn arrived with one of his pieces obstructing a useful line from Prakash's opposite seat. The tempting direct pocket required severe force and risked opening two of the opponents' pieces.

Naveed examined a rebound that would move his own obstructing piece into an accessible area without attempting the pocket.

It would concede the turn. Arjun would play next, before Prakash. Naveed therefore had to check not only the improvement for his partner but the shot he would leave their opponent.

The available opposing line was narrow and difficult. The forceful attack offered Arjun much more.

Naveed set the striker for the quieter choice.

7. A useful stroke without a pocket

The striker rebounded from the cushion, met the obstructing carromman and moved it into the intended area. Nothing fell.

Naveed took his hands away and let the turn pass.

Prakash saw the new line from his own baseline. He did not nod, point or speak. The live board belonged to the players in turn, and Arjun still had his chance.

Arjun studied the thin contact left to him. He tried to turn it into a pocket without releasing a dangerous own piece. The stroke missed by a small margin.

Prakash placed his striker.

Three carrommen remained for his pair, three for the opponents. The first own piece was now accessible because Naveed had moved the obstruction. Prakash pocketed it with controlled speed and retained the turn.

The second needed a cut from a different angle. He reset his position, checked the striker's likely path and pocketed that one too.

One remained.

It was the kind of rebound Prakash had described incorrectly from the opposite seat during their first practice evening. From here, the contact had to be smaller than the obvious line suggested.

He remembered changing chairs and missing twice. Then he remembered the adjustment Naveed had shown him.

Across the board, the younger player remained still. There was no rescue coming from his voice.

Prakash had to make the stroke he had finally been willing to learn.

8. The last rebound has two authors

Prakash settled his finger and reduced the force.

The striker touched the cushion, returned at the chosen angle and met the last carromman cleanly. It travelled towards the pocket and disappeared.

The striker stayed on the board.

Naveed did not rise until the official checked the finish. Their own carrommen were cleared; three opposing pieces remained. The board gave them three points, taking their score from twenty-two to twenty-five. Arjun and Vivek stayed on twenty-two.

There was no queen bonus to add.

The deciding game, and the match by two games to one, belonged to Naveed and Prakash.

Arjun stared at the space from which the last piece had moved. Vivek was the first to offer a handshake. Naveed accepted it and then turned to Prakash.

The older man's hand was no longer shaking. He looked across the board, first at the line he had used, then at his partner.

“You left it for me,” he said after the board was over.

“You finished it.”

Prakash nodded. He looked again at the three opposing pieces still waiting on the board.

Prakash stood carefully. Naveed moved the chair enough to give him room without taking his arm. They walked to the scoring table together.

Arjun signed beneath the result before looking up. The joke about a new pair of hands had found no second line.

9. Who played the winning stroke?

At the presentation, the interviewer asked Prakash about the winning rebound.

The old answer almost came automatically. He had spent decades describing a team's work as the unfolding of his own instruction.

Instead, he pointed to Naveed.

“I played the last stroke. He made the position, and he taught me the adjustment.”

The interviewer turned towards the younger player.

Naveed explained why the direct pocket had been dangerous, how the rebound setup had improved the opposite angle and what difficult opportunity had still been left to Arjun.

Prakash did not interrupt.

When Arjun suggested afterwards that the final had turned on one miss, Naveed invited him to look at the preceding setup. Vivek joined the discussion and confirmed that the alternative forceful stroke would have opened an easier reply.

The board, reconstructed after play, settled more than the comment.

The photographer asked the coach to hold the cup. Prakash corrected him before reaching for it.

“We are the pair. Put both names on the caption.”

Naveed held one side. Prakash held the other. The younger man did not have to step forward after the photograph had already been arranged.

Later, Prakash asked when he should collect the corrected booklet pages for the next class.

“Saturday,” Naveed said. “After we test the next positions.”

Prakash wrote the time in his own notebook.

10. The chair on the other side

On Saturday, Naveed arrived with three new diagrams. Prakash had placed two chairs opposite one another and left a third for the adult player who would test the defensive replies.

The cup stood on a shelf, clear of the playing surface.

They began with the final board's setup, then changed one opposing carromman's position. The quiet stroke no longer worked as well. The new defender found an easier pocket and punished it.

Naveed marked the difference. Prakash suggested a smaller contact. They tested it from both sides before writing anything final.

The corrected booklet now carried both names beside the diagrams they had developed together. Earlier pages identified their separate contributions. Prakash read the credits aloud at the start of the class, then handed the demonstration to Naveed without adding an introduction about the old days.

A learner asked whether doubles partners could simply memorise each other's favourite shots.

Naveed turned the board slightly to show the opposite view. Prakash moved to the other chair.

“First see what your partner can actually play,” Naveed said.

The class watched the same position become different from the second baseline.

At the end, Prakash packed his striker pouch. The cord caught again. This time he held it steady himself and worked it through slowly.

Naveed waited by the door. When the older man was ready, they carried one board each down the stairs.