Chapter Two
“How are we going to play cricket?” asked Melanie. “The games have been going for ages and it’s nearly the end of the season anyway.”
“Actually cricket could be quite neat,” said Lisa thoughtfully. “I remember what fun it was when we played non-stop cricket at Primary School. Seth and Mike from our class play in a cricket team. We should ask them about it.”
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” said Maggie confidentially.
The next day she approached the boys.
“Melanie and Lisa and I would like to join a cricket team,” she said brightly.
“Oh yeah?” said Seth. “Since when have you three girls been interested in cricket?”
“We’ve decided to get fit so our class gets to go to the snow for a day and we think playing a sport would be a good idea,” explained Maggie. “So what do you reckon? Could we play in your team?”
“Get real. We don’t have girls in our team,” said Mike scornfully.
“Yeah, but hang on a minute,” said Seth. “We’ve got that game against the girls’ team on Saturday and they are short a couple of players. We said we’d lend them some so the girls could fill in then. It’s not as if it matters, they’re not going to win, anyway. They’re an all-girl team from that school on the other side of town, next to the handbag factory,” he explained to Maggie.
“Yeah, bunch of old bags,” sniggered Mike. “You’ll fit in really well there.”
“Ok, do we need to bring anything?” asked Maggie, scowling at Mike.
“Just a hat and a drink bottle, it gets really hot. You don’t have to wear white. A T-shirt and shorts will do, and sneakers or something soft on your feet.”
Maggie duly reported this to Melanie and Lisa who received it with mixed degrees of enthusiasm.
“I’m quite looking forward to it,” admitted Lisa. “My brother and I watched all the one day tests. Some of those guys can really belt it out of the grounds.”
“I’ve never bothered watching cricket,” said Melanie doubtfully. “It always seems a bit pointless to me. I usually chose Rounders when we had to play ball games.”
“I’m sure it will be easy,” said Maggie confidently. “We all know how to hit a ball with a bat and it won’t be nearly as hard as line dancing or netball. The only running is between the wickets so we should be able to lie around and work on our tans most of the day.”
Melanie brightened.
“Oh that sounds much better,” she said cheerfully. “Count me in.”
Saturday morning was clear and hot.
“It’s going to be a scorcher,” said Maggie looking at the sky. “You’d never think it was nearly autumn. Must be global warming.”
The girls walked to the cricket ground where they found groups of girls and boys wandering around throwing balls to each other and practising strokes with a collection of bats.
“There you are,” called Seth. “Hey Sarah, here are three members for your team. Meet Sarah, she’s in charge.”
Sarah turned out to be tall and freckled with a cheerful smile.
“We’re batting first,” she said, “so you can go and relax in the shade. I’ve put you three down at nine, ten and eleven.”
“Oh, right,” said Lisa knowledgeably. “It’s the batting order,” she explained to the others who were looking at her blankly.
“I thought you had a turn when you hit the batter below the knees,” said Maggie.
Lisa stared at her.
“That’s French cricket. This is real cricket. There are lots more rules. I can’t believe you don’t know them. You must go around in a dream most of the time,” she said incredulously. “The batter hits the ball then they run between the wickets and swap ends. If the batter goes out someone else takes over. You should know all this. We played it at school last year.”
“I had a broken arm, remember?” explained Maggie.” I had to watch instead. I read a book most of the time,” she admitted candidly.
To Melanie's increasing boredom Lisa insisted on explaining the basic rules of cricket to Maggie.
“You’d better go first and we’ll watch you,” said Maggie firmly when the call for number nine came.
By this time the girls had scored 45 runs and Mike was disdainfully swinging his arms as he prepared to bowl. Lisa adjusted the pads on her legs and took the helmet proffered by the retiring batter.
“Put those pads on, Melanie. You’ll be next. Wish me luck,” she called cheerfully and strode onto the field.
Maggie and Melanie watched in admiration as Lisa swung her bat to meet the ball. Ten runs later, the other batter was caught out when she hit a high ball to the side and Melanie protestingly went out to bat.
“I feel like a target out here,” she wailed to Lisa.
“Just hit the ball if you can,” called Lisa, “and run when I tell you.”
To her credit, Melanie managed to hit the ball. She stood there in astonishment as it curved into the air.
“Run,” called Lisa, as she started sprinting towards Melanie. Melanie hesitated, not sure if there was enough time before the ball was picked up. Lisa stopped then started running again, calling, "come on!" Melanie began staggering between the wickets.
“Howzat!” There was a triumphant shout as the wicket keeper whipped the bail off the stumps.
“Now look what’s happened. You were too slow,” shrieked Lisa. “You’ve made me go out.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” replied Melanie crossly. “You shouldn’t have made me run. I wasn’t ready.”
Lisa gave her an exasperated look and walked back to the pavilion where Maggie was waiting nervously at the side of the field.
“I was really enjoying that,” Lisa exclaimed. “I made eighteen runs, and I would have made more if Melanie hadn’t got me out by not knowing when to run.”
Maggie gulped and walked out to the wicket. Melanie gave her a nervous smile from the other end. Seth ran up and bowled. The ball whistled past Maggie's ear at what felt like 100kph. She stared open-mouthed as the wicket keeper caught the ball in his gloves. Maggie raised the bat again, determined to hit it next time. Seth bowled at her again. Crack!
“Ouch,” yelled Maggie. “It hurts.”
She dropped the bat and rubbed her hands together. The jolt of the ball hitting the bat had jarred all her arms. The ball shot out to the side and a couple of the boys ran madly after it.
“Run,” screamed Melanie, charging down the pitch towards her.
“Oh help,” gasped Maggie. She looked wildly around for her bat on the ground.
“Run, quickly,” shrieked Melanie.
Maggie panicked and sprinted for the other end. She arrived to see her wickets askew as Seth calmly tossed the ball from hand to hand.
The entire boys’ team was convulsed with laughter.
“You’re supposed to take your bat with you,” the umpire pointed out kindly. “I’m afraid you’re out now, anyway.”
Maggie and Melanie stamped back to the pavilion and sadly took off their pads. A few minutes later the rest of the team gathered around.
“That was great,” said Sarah. “We made 64 runs – one of our best scores ever against a boys’ team. Lisa, you batted brilliantly. Everybody have lunch now and afterwards we’ll be fielding.”
The girls retired to the shade of a tree to eat their picnic lunch.
“Don’t look so worried,” Sarah said to them as they straggled out on to the field again. “We all have to start sometime. Lisa, can you bowl?”
“Not very well,” confessed Lisa.
“What about catching a ball?”
“Oh, I can do that all right. I play heaps of ball games with my Dad and my younger brother.”
‘”You’re silly mid-off then,” said Sarah. “Maggie and Melanie, you two spread out to the boundary and try to stop the ball going over the line. If you get it, throw it back to the wicket keeper.”
“Right,” said Lisa.
“Did you hear what
she called Lisa?” asked Maggie in a scandalised whisper as they walked to the edge of the field. “She’s not as nice as I thought she was.”
“Split up, you two, and stop chatting,” called Sarah sternly.
“I’m so hot, I’m melting,” said Melanie an hour later. The boys were smashing and walloping the ball all over the field but neither Maggie or Melanie had got anywhere near it.
“How much longer will this go on for?” complained Melanie.
“Until we get them out,” called Lisa cheerfully. “Or until they win,” she added, which seemed a foregone conclusion. Seth and Mike had decided that as the opening batters they could score the necessary 65 points single handed. Lisa was enjoying herself immensely and was determined to catch Seth out. She watched his batting closely. The next ball came down with Sarah bowling and Seth swung his bat. He sliced the ball high in the air towards her.
“Mine,” called Lisa and ran with hands outstretched. To her delight she caught it and screamed with joy as Sarah and the other fielders nearby rushed to congratulate her. Seth scowled and left the field but Mike called ‘well done’ and most of the spectators clapped. Lisa glowed with pride.
“I’ll bet I can do that. It looked easy,” thought Maggie.
‘And here’s Maggie,’ cooed the announcer. ‘Thank you for joining us Maggie. We know that as New Zealand’s top woman cricketer you must be very busy. Tell me, do you find it hard catching those balls?’
‘Oh,’ said Maggie modestly, ‘it’s nothing, really. I see the ball hit, calculate its trajectory and place myself where it will intersect with my hands.’
‘Amazing – and that’s not all you’re skilled at is it? You are the best batter New Zealand has ever seen. Is it true the men’s team have asked you to be their opening batter in the next test against Pakistan?’
‘Yes, but my loyalty is with the girls. I’m afraid I have to go now. I always try to bowl at least twenty googlies every day before tea...’
Maggie concentrated on the game again. Before too long, the boy who was batting hit a high ball in Maggie's direction. Maggie and Nancy, a girl from her team, both ran towards it.
“Mine, mine,” insisted Maggie and raised her hands to catch the ball. The ball descended into her cupped hands and she gave a cry and dropped it.
“What did you do that for you idiot?” howled Nancy. “I would have caught it.”
“It hurt my hands, I wasn’t expecting it to be so hard,” mumbled Maggie in embarrassment.
Before long the game finished. The boys had won 65 for 1 after only twelve and a half overs.
“We knew that would happen,” said Sarah cheerfully. “But when we play the other girls’ teams, it’s much more even. It’s always good practise playing against the boys though.”
“Do you have any room in your team?” asked Lisa hopefully.
“Well yes, as it happens, we do,” replied Sarah. “One of our members has moved away, that’s why we’re short today. Two of her friends have gone to help her pack. There are only a few more games this season, though. Do you want to join? We’d love to have you – you have the potential to be really good.”
“I’d love to,” confessed Lisa and grinned in delight.
“Some of us play during the winter as well,” she told Lisa. “We play indoor cricket then. That’s good fun as well and keeps us fit for the summer.”
Melanie and Maggie felt a bit left out.
“It’s just the two of us now,” said Maggie, “but don’t worry, we’ll think of something to do.”
“I’ll still come on our runs each night,” promised Lisa. “I want to get fit for cricket. I really enjoyed it – can’t think why I didn’t start years ago. Dad’s going to be rapt – he’s always nagging us kids to come and hit balls round the back yard with him.”
“That’s cool Lisa,” said Melanie sincerely. “I’m really glad you enjoyed it. As for me, I can’t wait to get back to flopping on the couch.”
“No,” said Maggie sternly. “We’re not giving up that easily. You know what Mr Marshall always says. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
“You’re not going to make me play cricket again, are you?” begged Melanie.
“Well no,” said Maggie regretfully. “We really were no good at it, and I doubt anyone would want us in a team. There must be something else we can do though.”
The girls thought about games and sports as they jogged companionably around the rugby field in the cool, late summer evenings.
“The local swimming club is having an open day on Saturday,” remarked Melanie. “My cousin belongs to one in her town and she says its brilliant fun. They get days off school to go to competitions and everything. Mind you, she’s really good,” she added hastily. “She wins prizes and stuff and she trains every morning for two hours before school.”
“Wow! Two hours! She must be keen. Can’t say I’m really very interested in getting into that,” said Lisa.
“Swimming. We could try it. It would be good exercise,” said Maggie slowly.
“It would be cold in the winter,” objected Lisa.
“They go to the heated pool in town then,” said Melanie knowledgeably. “I wouldn’t mind having a go. I quite like swimming.”
“Right, we’ll all go on Saturday,” Maggie decided.
“Not me,” said Lisa promptly. “I’m playing cricket. It’s an away game and a few of the parents are taking us in cars. You two go and tell me about it at school on Monday.”
On Saturday morning Maggie and Melanie met at the town pool. This was set in a park down a side street. The towering oak trees cast a pleasant shade and made it a favourite place for family picnics. In the evenings it was one of the main hang-outs for the local teenagers.
“There are lots of neat guys here,” Maggie pointed out, as they paid their entrance money and headed for the changing rooms.
“Yeah – wow look at that life guard.”
“Well, you’re not likely to meet him unless you’re drowning,” said Maggie severely. You mustn’t talk to him, he has to watch the pool at all times.”
The girls giggled and went to change into their swimming togs. They came out to see an official looking man, with a whistle hanging from a cord around his neck, taking names.
“We need two more for the relay,” he called. “You two, come here, you’ll do,” he said pointing to Melanie and Maggie.
“Now this is very simple,” he explained handing them each a red armband to wear. “You’re in the Red team. You stand at one end of the pool and when your team member touches the end you dive in and swim the length of the pool. You can swim, can’t you?”
“Yes of course,” said Maggie confidently, while Melanie murmured “yes,” quietly beside her.
“Ok then, you do the butterfly,” he pointed to Maggie, “and you,” he pointed to Melanie, “can do the breaststroke length. Any questions? No? Right off you go and line up with the others.”
Melanie and Maggie wandered over to the side of the pool to find that their team also consisted of a large, athletic Year Twelve boy called Trent, who Maggie vaguely remembered having seen with her brother, and a small, wiry girl their own age who introduced herself as Shelley.
“I’m doing the backstroke length, that’s first,” she said. “You’ll be after me with the breaststroke, Melanie, then Maggie, you go from the other end. Trent will finish up with the freestyle lap. This is our mixed age relay. There’s a prize of movie passes for the winning team. Good luck. Come with me Maggie.”
Leaving Trent talking to an excited Melanie, Maggie followed Shelley down to the end of the pool and watched while she jumped into the water and clung to the edge, waiting for the signal to start. A whistle blew and they were off. The air erupted with noise as people cheered on the swimmers, all six of them. Maggie found the excitement infectious and screamed encouragement as Shelley reached the end first and Melanie dived in. The Yellow team caught up on that round, and the two swimmers touched the
end at the same time as Maggie flopped in. The water was so cold she came up gasping. Maggie knew she had to do butterfly stroke but she had only a vague idea of how it was done. She watched her competitors set off with flailing arms and much splashing and tried to remember swimming races she had seen on TV when the Olympics and Commonwealth games were held. Maggie found that by keeping her head down and turning her arms like a windmill she was moving through the water. Unfortunately she couldn’t see where she was going, as the water splashed into her eyes and stung them, so she kept them tightly closed. She gasped for breath and kept swimming. She could hear the hollow noise of the crowed screaming as the water splashed around her ears and she was sure she must be winning. She struck out more confidently.
“It can’t be long now,” she thought. “I’ve been swimming for ages. I never knew a swimming pool was so long before. I must be getting closer.” She heard the cheering louder and louder. “Wow, they must be cheering me,” she thought proudly. Finally, with one last gasping breath, her outflung fingers touched the side of the pool. Thankfully she opened her eyes and looked up to see Melanie peering down at her.
“Maggie,” cried Melanie. “You’ve gone the wrong way.”
“What?” replied Maggie. “I don’t understand.”
“You went around in a big circle,” said Melanie in exasperation “What’s more, you took so long the race is over. Poor Trent didn’t even make it into the water. Shelley isn’t too thrilled with me either, because I accidentally kicked her in the face when I dived in.”
Drooping with disappointment, Maggie climbed out and dripped miserably over to the seats beside the pool. “I’m sorry,” she apologised to Trent and Shelley.
“Forget it,” said Trent loftily. “I have.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Shelley through gritted teeth, forcing a smile. “Why don’t you go over to the diving pool and try your luck there.”
Maggie brightened.
“No Maggie,” hissed Melanie. “Why don’t we go home now. Swimming is evidently not the sport for you.”
“But diving might be,” said Maggie, optimistically.
Accompanied by a protesting Melanie she marched over to the diving pool and entered the diving competition.
“High or low?” asked the bored young woman organising the entrants.
“High please,” said Maggie firmly, ignoring Melanie's gasp.
“Well, I’m not entering. I’m going to watch. Though what fun it will be seeing you stuff this up, I really don’t know,” Melanie informed her. “Have you ever dived?”
“Yes,” replied Maggie. Well it was almost true. She’d jumped in off the side of her cousin’s pool at Christmas time and that was like diving wasn’t it? And hadn’t she just dived into the pool for her race? If anyone criticised her dive she could say it was a new style. Anyway it couldn’t be hard. In front of her in the line were two skinny little kids and if they could do it then she certainly could. She tightened the band holding her wet hair back and dreamed about winning. Just think of Nick’s face if she came home with a cup.
Imagine going to the Olympics and diving for New Zealand – swooping through the air like a swallow before straightening to enter the water without a splash. The crowd would go wild; people would ask her for her autograph.
Here is young Maggie Johnson, New Zealand’s entry in the woman’s Olympic Diving Competition. She is about to perform the famous dive she invented– the Stellar Starfish. The crowd is cheering and flashbulbs are popping as she climbs the ladder, her long tanned legs showing the muscles that have made her a champion in so many sports. Now she launches herself into the air. The crowd gasps at her skill as she enters the water.
‘Maggie, that is the most amazing dive I have ever seen.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing, really.’
‘Do you know that you have single handed made diving the most popular sport in New Zealand. Every town is rushing to build more diving pools and I see you are now bringing out your own swimsuit range. Whatever will you think of next?’
“Next please,” a stern voice interrupted Maggie's daydream. She looked up to see the skinny little boy above her on the diving board as he leapt off into a perfect pike before entering the water like an arrow. Maggie quickly climbed the ladder and walked to the end of the board. It was very high up. Much higher than she had imagined. She could see the roofs of the houses in the street beside the pool complex. Down, far away down below her, the water looked cold and uninviting.
“Hurry up, are you going to dive or aren’t you?” the next competitor called impatiently.
“This is it – now or never. Watch out world. Here comes the Stellar Starfish.” Maggie threw her arms sideways and flung herself headfirst off the diving board. A short, a very short time later, she heard a crack and felt a blow like an elephant charging as she hit the water flat on her belly. Maggie couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move. She was suffocating; she was drowning. She gave a feeble wave of her arms then felt herself jerked roughly from the pool.
The dizziness gradually receded as she heard the lifeguard saying,
“Don’t worry, she’s only winded. What a humungous belly flop,” he added as he saw Maggie trying to talk.
Ignoring her gasps he gave her a hearty pat on the back and strode off back to his lookout seat.
“Maggie,” said Melanie in concern, “are you okay? I thought you were going to die. You didn’t come up, and that lifeguard dived in and saved you.”
Maggie lay on the tiles wishing she was dead. She felt as if she had landed on the concrete instead of in the water. She closed her eyes again and moaned as she tried to pull some air into her labouring lungs.
“How do you feel?” asked Melanie, as Maggie finally opened her eyes and shakily sat up.
“Wet,” quavered Maggie. “I don’t think diving is the right sport for me,” she continued, “I want to go home.”
“You’d better rest for a while first,” said Melanie, and handed Maggie her towel. She gave a giggle. “Actually it looked pretty amazing. Everyone said they had never seen a dive like that before. What on earth did you think you were doing?”
“The Stellar Starfish,” replied Maggie promptly and dissolved into giggles. “I think it’s one of those once in a lifetime dives,” she spluttered. “No one will ever see it again.”
“You’re completely crazy,” said Melanie “I don’t know why I put up with you. Come on, I’ll buy you a coke and we’ll watch the divers – the other divers.”
That night, after she had written up her journal, Maggie phoned Melanie. They had decided not to go for a run as Maggie was still feeling waterlogged from her swim and Melanie had pointed out that they had both exercised by swimming anyway.
“Hey, Melanie,” said Maggie excitedly, “I’ve had a really brilliant idea. Why don’t we try roller blading?”
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