Chapter Eighteen
As soon as Adrian and Barry arrived from their holiday, Adrian got out all the cricket magazines that he has kept over the years for more than one reason. He comes across the beneficiary book they compiled for Hansie Cronjé’s benefit year and Adrian swallows hard at the lump in his throat.
Adrian remembers how fond he was of Hansie’s type of cricket, how he admired Hansie and the way he played.
Adrian was one of the very few people that believed in Hansie through the controversy of Hansie accepting money from the bookies. The ICC and in particular, the UCBSA has arranged very strict regulations in an effort to protect players from similar incidents, but it only lasted that long.
Adrian closes his eyes, sighs and page further through the book. He comes across a typical year and exercise formula Hansie himself worked with. It will have to work if he wanted to get back on track, he will just have changed all the running to swimming or horse riding.
Adrian picks up his cell phone and phones Ryan, but Ryan’s wife answers.
“Hello?”
“Um . . . Oh, hi. It’s Adrian. How are you?”
“It’s so great hearing from you! I’m doing well thanks. Are you keeping well?”
“Yeah, no complaints. Is Ryan there?”
“No, he is in Sri Lanka on a tour. I can give you his number there?”
“Oh no, good gracious!” Adrian laughs.
“I don’t have that money to phone that far. When will he be back?”
“They’ll be away for another six weeks.” she laughs.
“You’ve lost track of time completely. Don’t you watch cricket any more?”
“I wish. Don’t have money for Dstv, so . . . and I don’t read the newspapers. Ryan’s e-mail still the same?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Okay. I will e-mail him then. Thanks for the chat and please take care.”
“You too, Adrian. Send Barry our regards too.”
Adrian greets her and disconnects.
It is a scary thought of how busy all of them became and how out of touch in regards to the cricket he became that he didn’t even know the where and the when of the tours.
That will have to change, very soon. Adrian made a commitment, a promise to Barry. Irrespective of the weather, Adrian will have to practice on his days off.
But that is much easier said than done.
The next day when Adrian drives to the Elgin Cricket Club it is wet, cold and rainy. He did dress warm enough though.
After arrival, Adrian adjusts and loads the bowling machine that will spit out the balls he needed to hit.
Adrian has been standing there for more than an hour and the umpteenth ball hits him on the body. Adrian grimaces in pain and very dejectedly, he takes off his gloves and throws them in the corner where his bag is. He switches the machine off and puts his bat on the cricket bag before taking a seat on the bag.
Adrian rests with his head on his hands and desperately fights back the threatening overwhelming emotion. He can’t understand why he couldn’t play the way he used to. He must be looking like a complete idiot at the moment . . .
“You okay?”
Adrian looks up and appears puzzled.
“Excuse me?”
“I hate to speculate how long you have been here. I can only judge by the state that you are in and at the wetness of your clothes that you have been here a while. You should get out of here, take a hot shower and dress warmly. You’ll catch a very nasty flu.”
“I’m sorry, have we met before?”
“No. But I was hoping to work with you.”
Adrian frowns.
“Jack Smith. I’m the Western Province cricket coach. I know who you are and I’m thrilled to see that you are playing again. We are in desperate need of your talents.”
“What talent? Couldn’t you see that I couldn’t hit a single ball? Even a school boy has more ball sense than I have at the moment. I’ve lost it. Completely.”
“I know exactly where the problem lies.”
Adrian laughs sarcastically.
“Great. Well, if you can show me, I’d be grateful, because I am about to pack up. Literally and figuratively speaking. Go back to being a policeman. That is what I was born to do anyway.”
“Well, I can help you, but then you will have to give it your everything. And yes, it does start with your attitude. Because at this stage, that is where the big problem lies. You see, you already believe you can’t play cricket anymore. Your thoughts always precede your actions, so what you believe, will naturally happen. Once you get into that mind shift that God has blessed you with a talent and that you must use it to His honor to glorify Him, only then can I start with you technique again. It is very rusty at the moment.”
Adrian looks at Jack, speechless.
“Do you live nearby? I’m really worried about you getting sick.”
“Yeah, I . . . I live some fifteen minutes from here on a farm. I’ll be okay.”
“Adrian, here is my number. Phone me tomorrow. We’ll make a fixed appointment when it suits you, but at least four times a week. If you are serious about getting back into playing cricket, I am more than willing to help you get back on track.”
The next morning at half past five the alarm on his cell phone buzzes him awake.
Adrian groggily opens his eyes, stretches and yawns. He gropes for his cell phone and after a while switches it off.
“Och, what’s the time?” Barry yawns.
“It’s half past five, Engelsman.”
“Well gracious! What for are ye up so early? It’s our rest days.”
“Maybe for you, yes. My days of being lazy are over.” Adrian stretches again and reluctantly gets out of bed.
“It’s hopelessly too cold to do anything.” Adrian complaints as he draws the curtains.
“And it’s raining outside too.”
“Do ye have a fixed appointment?”
“Yeah, I need to go to Cape Town to the Sports Science Institute. Jack is going to meet me there. I’m going to meet up with all these smart oaks that do all this different tests on you and then work out the ideal exercise programme for the sport you are doing.”
“Sounds very interesting.”
“Nope. I’ll probably bore myself to death. If you feel like it, you can take a shower and hitch a ride with me, maybe you can surprise Gisela.”
Adrian very hastily takes out his equipment bag from the car and runs off to the changing rooms at Newlands. It is early spring and the new cricket season has started in full swing.
But Adrian is beyond nervous for what is lying ahead. All the hard work with Jack seems to be fruitful, but Adrian hasn’t been playing any cricket in front of a packed stadium for a very long time.
Going very fast around a corner inside the stadium building it feels as if he is running straight dead into a wall and the impact throws him to the floor with his equipment bag falling loudly next to him with the sounds of the cricket bats in the bag connecting with one another.
“Well gracious! Can’t you watch where you are going?!” Adrian asks annoyed before gathering his bag up and Ryan laughs heartily.
“Sorry, buddy. But you are clearly very deep into thought as you were walking. Will teach you not to send an SMS in a walk.”
Adrian laughs too and they hug each other.
“It’s so great to see you!” Ryan says and looks Adrian up and down. Ryan smiles.
“I can’t think when was the last time I’ve ever seen you looking so very healthy. I would like to ask you how you have been keeping, but that will be a waste of time.”
They walk onto the change rooms.
“I was looking for you six weeks ago, but you were in Sri Lanka. How has the tour been?” Adrian asks curiously.
“Oh, same old, same old. Have to live on ‘imported’ foods from home, drink bottled water, no ice in your drink, dehydration on the field, those type of things. It’s been a great tour
though. We’re coping well with the new coach and the new captain. We are a close knitted unit. So,” Ryan smiles mischievously.
“What made you to change your mind to play cricket again? Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful to see you back again in the sport. You meant a lot to it. You still do.”
“We had some great misfortune a while ago with Barry on the farm and . . . when Barry got better, he challenged me to play again. Has been nagging on me for a long time to make my return to cricket.”
“Hold on, what misfortune are you talking about, buddy?”
Adrian takes a seat on the bench.
“He lost his sight for a while. It was probably one of the most difficult times in my life. I don’t think I ever want to go through something like that again.”
Ryan takes a seat next to Adrian.
“Good gracious, buddy! What else will happen to you in your life? This hardly seems fair.”
Adrian smiles bravely.
“Well, my dad always has a saying that ‘life is a nicker ball. It is bloody hard, but bloody nice’. Anyway, all the tests that we need to endure in life are God’s Refiner’s Fire. You can’t try to refine and purify gold without the hottest fire, now can you?”
Ryan shakes his head in amazement.
“How you keep your faith and keep it so strong . . . it’s admirable. So,” he tries to change the subject.
“How do you feel about being back?”
“Let’s rather not go there. I’m a nervous wreck.”
Ryan laughs.
“Piece of cake for somebody like you with the talent you have. It’s like cycling. You can never forget how to do it. And for you, it will even come more naturally, you’ll see.”
Adrian tiresomely opens his eyes on the morning of the 1st January. As was his usual custom since he arrived on the farm at the age of fourteen, he would sit up through the night of the 31st December and spend it with his family or with friends, partying into the new year. This always caused him to wake up at eleven ‘o clock the next day on New Year’s Day and today was no exception.
Adrian turns his head to the pleasant smell of the coffee next to him and the equal pleasant smell of bacon with scramble eggs hangs in the air.
“Morning, or should I say, good afternoon, old man. Happy New Year’s.”
Adrian smiles.
“You too, Engelsman. And truly, may this be your most blessed year ever with absolutely no misfortunes, not even a hint of it.”
“Aye, it will be. It is already a great year.”
Adrian smiles, intrigued. He picks up the mug.
“How come? What’s going on?”
“Och, nothing much.”
Barry innocently places the newspaper on Adrian’s lap.
“Barry, you know I don’t read the paper at all.”
“Then turn to the sports page.”
“I know my next match starts next week. We will trample over the Titans. It’s no sweat. The only problem is it is in Pretoria and normally that time of year, it is totally unpleasant.”
Adrian reluctantly picks up the newspaper and looks at the back at the sports articles. His eyes widen.
“Well gracious!”
“Told ye. How fast can you pack?”
Arriving at the hotel in Durban, Adrian just stands there in the foyer for a moment. He feels very overwhelmed about everything happening so quickly again for him and the excitement that it is the T20 World Cup in South Africa is the most overwhelming emotion he feels.
Adrian makes his way to the reception desk.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” He greets the receptionist.
“I um . . . I’m Adrian Parker. I’m one of the members of the Protea cricket squad.”
She smiles, hands him the key to his hotel room.
“Welcome, sir. We’ve been expecting you.”
“Did . . . did the other members arrive just as yet?”
“No, not yet. I think the team captain mentioned that the members will start coming from 18:00. You’re quite early.”
Adrian smiles and proceeds to the lifts so that he can go to his room. He unlocks his room and looks around. There was clearly no one else there except him at this stage and with the very small luxury of peace and quiet, Adrian takes off his tekkies and lies down on the bed, falling asleep for a nap almost instantly.
Very early the next morning the team assembles for the usual team breakfast and Adrian feels a bit sad not to see so many familiar faces like on the previous tours he has been part of the team. It’s scary to think how long he hasn’t been part of the sport . . .
Ryan notices Adrian looking quite subdued.
“It’s okay, buddy. You’ll enjoy being here. It will be just like old times.”
Adrian smiles.
“I wonder what the management has up their sleeve for today. I think we need to do some team building and I know just the place.”
“We’ll probably practice hard, buddy. It is the T20 World Cup and the public expects quite a bit from us, seen that we are the hosts.”
“It feels so akward. I keep on searching for the others. I’ve been away for too long.”
“That you have. We’ve missed you terribly.”
The team sits down at the team table, most players watching the “newcomer” of the side and the new captain of the Proteas, Micky Sullivan gets up from his chair.
“Morning guys. I just want to welcome everyone here this morning and in particular the newcomer, whom is not so ‘new’ as he pretends to be,” Micky says laughingly.
“Welcome back, Adrian. We truly hope that you are here to stay now in this beautiful sport and that for a long time. I’ve heard that you are a policeman, so thank you that we can feel safe and protected. Apart from that, I know you understand the term ‘arrest’ because you are a cop and you execute those on quite a regular basis. So know this, you are under strict ‘house arrest’ in this Proteas team. We desperately need your talent and the caliber of a player you are. Just be warned, you are here to stay and you’re not going anywhere.”
They all share a laugh and Adrian blushes shyly. He gets up too.
“Thanks, Micky. I really appreciate that warm welcome. Well, hi everyone. I um . . . the last time I spoke to my team mates is a date in history I would love to forget, but . . . I really missed all of you so much. It is a huge privilege to play again for South Africa and to be afforded the opportunity to start anew with this new form of cricket. I truly wish us only blessings and good fortune, the World Cup and nothing less.”
“Hear! Hear!” they say in unison, some whistle.
“Well, I’ve heard that you are quite a motivator.” Micky says.
“Any motivations? Inspiration?”
“Well, when I made my debut for the very first time, I will never forget how many times I was encouraged to just enjoy playing the game and being part of the team. Guys, that’s what I want to say to you. Those who are very young in the game, for those who made their debut in the beginning of the season, go out there and play because you love to and because you want to. Not because you get paid. And if there is one thing that I’ve learnt anew last year is that you cannot fear failure. Ever. It doesn’t matter how many times you fall. What matters is how many times you get back up.” Adrian says as he glances over his team and at the last moment, his eyes lock with those of the smiling Peter Sullivan that emerged into the diningroom area a few minutes earlier . . .
The tournament has been a very tough tournament. Right throughout.
But the Proteas refused to let the Aussies or anyone else for that matter get the overhand and to run away with the tournament. At the end, South Africa was to face England on Newlands in the T20 World Cup final and Adrian in particular feels very determined to settle the score for the humiliation way back in Sydney years before . . .
South Africa tried their very best in England’s innings, but at the end England managed to get a very big score and revenge seemed very
unlikely . . .
As they finished their supper, Adrian and the rest of his team mates are making all the necessary preparations for their innings. It is then when Micky approaches Adrian.
“Adrian, I know this is very sudden and very short notice, but I need a very big favor from you.” He starts.
Adrian pulls a clean shirt over his head.
“I’ll see what I can do, what’s on your mind, Cap?”
“I need you to open the batting for me.”
Adrian shoots Micky a double take.
“But—”
“Adrian, I know you are not an opening batsman. But in this two weeks you didn’t get much chance to play to your heart’s content and to settle in. Besides, my dad has told me about your style of playing. You love playing at least 20 overs. You’re not the type of batsman that likes to come in with only five overs to spare. And I think England will never imagine you opening the batting for South Africa.”
“It’s not in my nature to question any authority, but this is crazy.”
“No, it’s not. I believe in you. I believe you can do it. I want to give you decent exposure. The table is set for you.”
“Skip, the pitch will turn. It’s night time.” Adrian tries for the last time.
“Nice try. The pitch has been turning since we started. We started at dusk. Go. They’re waiting for you.”
Adrian silently nods and pads up before walking onto the pitch with his opening partner. This feels so out of character. He has never opened the batting before and he can only hope that this move will not cause South Africa the World Cup . . .
But it won’t.
Adrian starts cautiously and slowly. Much to the annoyance of his home crowds and even the England squad. The crowds become restless and some of them even start jeering Adrian as he plays on.
But that changes in an instant.
In South Africa’s 10th over with only 100 on the scoreboard Adrian clearly becomes very frustrated. The results are that when one of the English speedsters comes in to bowl yet what it seems like a beautiful volley, the leather connects with the willow and the ball soars way up into the stands for a glorious six.
And from there, it just doesn’t end. The bowlers of England become so desperate and dejected that no one seems eager any more to bowl and they keep on passing the ball onto one another.
With Newlands on their feet, cheering loudly in standing ovations for their comeback hero, the last over is about to be bowled.
Adrian stood there, very casually and relaxed, a naughty sparkle of enjoyment alighting his eyes. He is very aware that he has hit six sixes of the last bowler, but there is no sign, no evidence of boastfulness on his face or in his body language. He looks like a naughty schoolboy having fun but simultaneously he has a humble demeanor.
The last bowler of England follows the same route as his predecessor, but when he bowls a no ball on his last delivery it is as if the crowds of Newlands are out of control and as if the atmosphere is about to explode.
The bowler comes in, seemingly determined but as he follows in his follow through after the delivery he witnesses the ball being clubbered out completely out of the stadium. This leaves the security with their hands very full, because the crowds want to come onto the field to acknowledge Adrian’s hard efforts and the fact that South Africa managed to win the T20 World Cup.
It has been a struggle to be the limited overs champion for such a long time. Every time they will come so close, but at the last moment, they would fade and not rise to the occasion.
But not tonight. And what sweet revenge it is!
The Proteas rush onto the field and they carry Adrian off the field as a group as Micky hands Adrian the World Cup. The cameras flashes blind his eyes, but Adrian is too happy to have any care in the world.
All he felt was overwhelming excitement and happiness and he feels like nothing, no one can ever steal that away from him.
Ever.
If Adrian ever thought that he has ever received a hero’s welcome back at the Police station ever in his life, he clearly wasn’t prepared for what was awaiting him when he came back from the tour. When he arrived home, the celebrations held for him by friends and family was never ending and Adrian is all too relieved to get back to his ordinary life as a policeman.
“So how long do ye think ye are going to be here at work, old man?” Barry teases Adrian on arrival.
Adrian just shrugs his shoulders.
“I’m not quite sure, Engelsman. Rumor has it that they said something about going to the Caribbean in three weeks or so for a two-month tour against the Windies and then a month’s rest before we tour again to England for three months. It’s a hectic time ahead, I guess.”
Adrian and Barry enter the charge office with all the shift members that are booking off and the Delta shift booking on again, but the usual handing over is not really taking place as they were all waiting for the honorable guest. Everywhere on the counters were streamers and balloons and a huge banner against the wall reading: “Welcome back Adrian—our super hero” and Adrian also enters the charge office under a thunderous standing ovation and cheers.
Adrian chokes back the emotion.
“Good gracious, guys . . .” he says softly.
“What on earth is this for?”
Lieutenant October comes closer, puts his arm around Adrian’s shoulders.
“Why are you asking?” he asks amused.
“What type of question is that, huh? You won that T20 World Cup single handedly for South Africa!”
Adrian blushes shyly.
“No good gracious, Okkie. That is far from the truth.”
“You are too humble. It’s a pity that you come on duty now, it would have been nice if we were able to have a decent party! Anyway, I have a tiff to sort out with you because I want to know what took you so long to start playing cricket again!”
“That’s in the past and I don’t think about that anymore.”
Adrian and Lieutenant October shares a laugh and all the personnel in the charge office enjoy a short time in relaxing, having coffee and refreshments while talking to Adrian about the cricket tour.
Just after they are all about to finish and as Adrian books out Golf Romeo 6 and their firearms, an urgent call on the police radio comes through.
Adrian grabs up the keys and he puts on his cap on the run and him and Barry rushes outside to the squad car. After kenneling and securing Nero in the car, Adrian drives out of the station premises with screaming sirens and flashing blue lights as he and Barry make their way to the complaint.
Another opportunity to serve and protect . . .
Refined By His Fire Page 18