He had the best players with him. Arvind didn’t stand a chance.
Chetan thought back to the evenings he’d sat on the edge of the field. He had always been the last one picked into a team. It was his job to find the balls when they went over the fence.
But that seemed long ago.
They hadn’t let him play with them, so he had made his own games.
It was his move. He moved his players into offence. Arvind didn’t know it but Chetan had coded the game.
The computer classes had paid off. He would never lose.