“Gangs would war like 100 feet apart,” Hosein told ESPN. “That’s the separation of different turfs. You’re here, I’m right down there and we’re having a beef. You could be caught up in a stray at any point of time.”

He grew up inside all of this. It was just there, he said. Everything right around you.

Once, he pulled out of a match for Trinidad without explanation — just sent a voice note as the gunshots in the background offered the reason.

The locals know what outsiders see when they hear the name. A few bold tourists now explore the place with cameras; most residents step aside. “Not all of us here are bad,” one tells a vlogger ‘CocoBoy’. It is a striking sentence — the kind people only say when they have spent a lifetime hearing the opposite assumed. Most adults, when applying for jobs or enrolling children in school, leave Laventille off the form.

“Everyone happens to be a target when they take the guns out,” a local says.

Amid all of it, Hosein was manifesting something specific. He posted a picture of Ravindra Jadeja on social media with a tagline: “One day… I’d like to become a player like him.” On another occasion he tweeted about “trying to mole my role into the role that this guy plays so perfect.”

Like Brian Lara before him, he found his way to Queen’s Park Cricket Club. Sunil Narine and Kieron Pollard took him in. Narine was generous enough to let him use his flat in Port of Spain, keeping him away from Laventille long enough to keep playing. Hosein has never tried to put distance between himself and where he came from. He still says it plainly, still says it first.

“There will be guys running in with guns and we just have to scatter, run into our houses. There were really scary times. But apart from all of that it never made us stop loving cricket. It never really affected our decision making and what we want to do in life.”

***
Thirteen years after he first wrote Jadeja’s name on the internet, Hosein replaced him at Chennai Super Kings.

In a season where CSK have drifted — results inconsistent, the old certainties harder to find — Hosein has emerged in the last two matches as the clearest answer to a specific problem. The problem is the powerplay. In a format where spinners are most exposed in the first six overs, most teams don’t ask them to bowl there at all. Hosein does the hardest job available.

The way he bowls is not unlike the player he studied. Simple. The same spot, ball after ball, no variation announced in advance, no drama. But Hosein does one thing differently — an arm-ball released seam-up that comes in viciously into the right-hander, late, like an in-swinger that changed its mind. With his trajectory, it is hard to get away with.

Mumbai Indians found that on Thursday night. Four overs, 17 runs, four wickets. Fourteen of those deliveries were dots. After the match he was asked about Laventille in a CSK podcast. He did not deflect. “You can sit now and look back at some of those stories and situations you’ve been in, sport a smile and say — I’ve a really good story to tell the kids.”

He does. A boy from one of the Caribbean’s most dangerous neighbourhoods, who hid nothing on his CV, who took a flat from a teammate to stay alive long enough to play. Now bowling in the powerplay for CSK, in the slot where his idol used to bowl, doing what his idol did — making it look simple.

The red dot of a laser sight on a friend’s shirt in Laventille. Fourteen dot deliveries at the Chepauk.