ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Attending a conference called Getting Reluctant Readers Reading, Michael Panckridge skipped lunch to sit in the old commentary box at Victoria Park, where he was inspired to write stories for kids who were as keen on sports as he had been when growing up. Fifteen years on, Michael is the author of over 35 books, selling more than 250,000 copies. As well as sports books such as the Legends series, he also writes action-packed thrillers and suspenseful mysteries. When he’s not teaching or writing, Michael enjoys watching sport, reading, and running.
Also by Michael Panckridge
Chasing the Break
Against the Spin
Clearing the Pack
The Toby Jones series
The League of Legends series
The Clued Up series
The Cursed
The Vanishings
The Immortal
The Book of Gabrielle
Be Bully Free
Big Bash League Cricket series
Thanks to Tim and all the staff at Ford Street Publishing for their wonderful support and expertise as we work together to bring The Legends back to life – MP
Published by Ford Street Publishing, an imprint of
Hybrid Publishers, PO Box 52, Ormond VIC 3204
Melbourne Victoria Australia
© Michael Panckridge 2017
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
This publication is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process without prior written permission from the publisher. Requests and enquiries concerning reproduction should be addressed to
Ford Street Publishing Pty Ltd
162 Hoddle Street, Abbotsford, Vic 3067.
Ford Street website: www.fordstreetpublishing.com
First published in 2003 by BDB. This edition has been revised.
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Creator: Panckridge, Michael, 1962- author.
Title: Down the line / Michael Panckridge.
eISBN: 9781925804102
Target Audience: For primary school age.
Subjects: Sports--Juvenile fiction.
Children’s stories.
Cover design and interior illustrations: Marita Seaton ©
Interior design: Grant Gittus Graphics
In-house editor: Tim Harris
Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
The Discovery
Chapter 2
Family Tennis
Chapter 3
A Challenge
Chapter 4
Down to Boxers
Chapter 5
Practice Makes Perfect
Chapter 6
Freaky Wednesday
Chapter 7
The Draw
Chapter 8
The Wall
Chapter 9
Miss Cool
Chapter 10
A Slow Start
Chapter 11
Distractions
Chapter 12
Now
Chapter 13
Counting Windows
Chapter 14
Glasses Again
Chapter 15
The Semis
Chapter 16
Finals Time
Chapter 17
Back in the Library
The Wall
Legend of Tennis Results – Boys
Legend of Tennis Results – Girls
Legend of Tennis Results Table – Boys
Legend of Tennis Results Table – Girls
Legend of Sport Points Table – Boys
Legend of Sport Points Table – Girls
Tennis Quiz
Quiz Answers
Event Dates
Surfing
February
Cricket
March
Tennis
April
Football
June
Soccer
July
Basketball
August
Athletics
October
Swimming
November
Scoring
1st
5 points
2nd
4 points
3rd
3 points
4th
2 points
5th
1 point
Structure
Each sport has a teacher in charge. Generally, there will be three types of testing to determine the Legend for each sport.
The percentage for each session is approximate only. The teacher in charge will decide the final balance of scoring.
A skills-based session
30%
A knowledge session
20%
A game session
50%
Practice
All participants in a Legend event will have the opportunity to practise on Wednesday afternoons from 1:00 pm till 5:00 pm. During this time, Legend participants will be able to use the library. Sports staff and sports venues will also be available on request. It is the responsibility of the student to book venues, equipment and other materials. Normal sports training will continue for all students on the appropriate afternoons.
The Legends Noticeboard
The noticeboard outside the gym should be constantly checked for updates. It is the student’s responsibility to do this. The Teacher in Charge for the Legends of Tennis is Miss Lamb.
The first two Legend challenges are over. Mitchell Grady first achieved Legend status by being crowned the Legend of Surf. Now he can add the Legend of Cricket trophy to his collection.
For Bubba, the memories aren’t all good. When he was hit in the head by a well-aimed ball from Travis Fisk, it looked like Bubba might be out of the competition for good. But he got his revenge by batting brilliantly against Fisk and winning the match.
For Mitchell Grady, the challenge is to continue his dominance over Travis, his greatest sporting rival. What will Fisk think up to stop Mitchell winning the tennis tournament?
And what about Bryce Flavel, the quiet, brainy kid who worked so hard to challenge Travis Fisk’s dominance?
Luci Rankin is excited about her sporting success, but there is something in her past that Mitchell has yet to uncover.
Are the umpires ready? Are the ball boys and ball girls ready?
Play!
‘Where do we go?’ I asked Jack as we raced around the corner of the hall.
We had just finished assembly. All the cricket winners had been presented with their trophies and certificates when Travis Fisk had asked, with a sinister smile on his face, if we’d seen Bryce Flavel around.
Straightaway we knew something was up. And judging by the smirk on Travis’ face, it wasn’t looking good for Bryce. Our friendly genius was big on brain, but muscle wasn’t so big on him.
‘We go away from the buildings,’ said Jack.
‘He’s probably dumped him over the fence or something. C’mon, Mitch!’
Bubba, Luci and Becky joined in the search and raced off across the ovals with us.
It was Jack who made the discovery.
Bryce was hanging by his shirt on a branch of a tree down past the soccer pitch. His glasses were smashed into small pieces and lay scattered beneath him. He obviously didn’t have the strength in his arms to pull himself up and off the branch from which he was hanging. He was dirty, his shirt was torn, and he was smiling!
‘I knew you guys would find me,’ he said. Then his smile slipped. For a moment, I thought he was going to cry. He stared out across the oval and into the distance.
Jack and I got unde
rneath Bryce and lifted his backside and legs up.
‘Wrap your legs round this branch, Bryce,’ I told him.
Jack scrambled up to release his shirt as I supported Bryce from underneath. Bryce slipped as the pressure was taken off his shirt. We both fell onto the pine needles below.
‘Perhaps that’s the end of it,’ said Bryce, brushing himself down. He looked weary.
‘What did he do to you?’ I asked.
‘Oh, you can guess. Beat me up a bit, trod on my glasses, and then thought it would be fun to see me hanging around. Obviously that’s all I’m good for – just hanging around. But enough of me, who won the Legend of Cricket?’
‘You’re a classic, Bryce. Let me introduce you to this year’s Legend of Cricket, Mitchell Grady!’ said Jack.
Bryce smiled and clapped.
‘And let me introduce you to the runner up for this year’s Legend of Cricket, the talented and brilliant Jack Crossly,’ I added. Jack took a bow.
I was embarrassed that Bryce was so excited for me and Jack, given his appearance. He looked like he’d been in a fight. And he had, I suppose – a one-way fight.
‘Let’s go straight to Mrs Waite,’ Jack said.
‘No,’ Bryce hissed at us. ‘No. I’ll clean myself up and go up to the library. We’ve got the tennis barbecue tomorrow. And you know what that means?’
Jack was nodding. I was totally confused.
‘I’ll explain later,’ Jack said to me. You didn’t question Bryce Flavel’s decisions. Particularly when they concerned him.
‘Thanks again for rescuing me,’ Bryce said, looking at each of us. ‘Okay, to the library.’
The library was Bryce’s second home. Miss Javros would look after Bryce. It was the best we could hope for.
‘We’ll explain to the teacher where you are, okay?’ Jack said.
It never seemed to be a problem that Bryce sometimes missed a class. I reckon Bryce had his own personal Maths and English program anyway. It was like he was three grades ahead of the rest of us.
We caught up with Luci, Becky and Bubba after school and explained what had happened. They’d been caught snooping around on the ovals and told to go back to class, so it was lucky Jack and I had found Bryce. He’d still have been hanging there, otherwise.
Fisk was a serious bully and I was struggling with not going to Mrs Waite, or Mr Spears, or anyone in charge, to explain what had happened. But that wasn’t what Bryce wanted.
The barbecue was the traditional beginning of the Legend of Tennis challenge. Jack explained to me that all the meat products and veggie-burgers were supplied by the local butcher, Mr Fisk. He’d organised loaves of bread, a can of drink for everyone in the challenge, and tables with big umbrellas and chairs. There was even a new container of balls for each kid in the competition – about 30 in all. It was becoming clear to me how Travis Fisk was able to get away with so much.
Miss Lamb, the teacher in charge of tennis, made a speech about the challenge and thanked Mr Fisk about a thousand times.
The whole afternoon was set aside for family tennis matches where parents teamed up with their children. I noticed that Luci and Bubba didn’t have anyone to partner them, so I got my mum to partner Luci and we organised Bryce’s dad to go with Bubba. Bryce and Jack partnered their mums.
My dad laughed and joked his way through our match and we lost pretty badly. Watching Mr Fisk and Travis play was scary. Mr Fisk pretended to be relaxed and unconcerned, but you could tell he was uptight. If Fisk mucked up a shot, his father would give him a mean, dark look.
Jack was very good. He was quick and ran down just about everything. His mum, though, was like my dad – happy just to actually hit the ball with the racquet.
Mia and her mum, Mrs Tompkins, looked like they’d just stepped out of a tennis fashion magazine. They wore matching clothes, peaked caps and had the same bobbed hair. And they could play. They were awesome. They won all their matches 4 – 0, and their final to love as well. They’d hardly raised a sweat. Sweat obviously wasn’t part of the look.
But the most amazing person was Mr Flavel. He was brilliant. You could tell he was taking it easy, but Bubba kept on giving me the thumbs up. He and Mr Flavel ended up playing the Fisks in the final.
By now, everyone was tired. We were happy to sit on the grassy bank behind the tennis court and watch the set. For the final it was the best of eight games, with everyone having two serves.
The Fisks started aggressively, attacking Bubba, especially when he was on the net. During one rally, Mr Fisk smashed the ball into Bubba.
‘Oh, sorry, that wasn’t meant to go there,’ he called, waving his arm in apology. Fisk smirked.
A voice from behind me called, ‘Dad!’
It was Bryce. Mr Flavel looked at him and nodded once. Some sort of message had passed between them, and it soon became clear what it was.
Mr Flavel played the match brilliantly. Somehow he managed to include Bubba in the rallies – always letting him take the easy shots, but totally controlling the baseline. And Mr Flavel never attacked Fisk, although Fisk could certainly handle himself on the tennis court. He hit the ball flat and hard. Mr Flavel’s winning shots were usually aimed at Mr Fisk.
Mr Fisk was getting angry. His big face was getting red with exhaustion and frustration. He started making silly errors. In no time, the match had finished with a score of 5 – 3 in favour of Bubba and Bryce’s dad.
There was enthusiastic applause and cheering for both teams as they walked from the court. It had been a high standard game. It told me that Travis Fisk was talented. It was going to be hard to beat him at tennis.
And then there was Jack.
Jack, Bubba, Bryce and I decided to practise on the courts at school some evenings after dinner. We’d rock up at about 7:30pm and play until it got dark.
Bubba’s parents didn’t seem to mind him being out and playing sport anymore – especially after his mum had watched Bubba in the cricket match at school during the Cricket Legend competition.
Bryce’s dad was right into tennis, and Bryce himself was pretty keen to actually use the racquet and attempt to hit the ball back over the net, rather than sit on the sidelines and calculate angles or do stats comparing the single-handed backhand to the double-handed version.
Jack was a natural. And he was fast. He could run down anything – and it wasn’t just his speed that was impressive. He had great racquet skills. His backhands were flat and fast and he had this ability to keep the ball in play; he was awesome at chasing down shots that most players wouldn’t have got near.
Usually we played straight doubles, but this night we were playing American. Jack was on his own against Bubba and Bryce. To make things more even, Jack was playing all his shots on his backhand.
I’d mentioned to Luci that we practised at the courts some evenings, but she hadn’t shown up yet.
‘Hello, losers! Getting in a bit of late practice, are we?’ Travis Fisk, along with Richard Mazis and Jimmy Paisley, his two thuggy mates, had appeared from nowhere to ruin our evening. They had their tennis racquets with them.
‘Jack Crossly, looks like you’re struggling a bit,’ said Fisk. ‘I’d heard you weren’t bad, either.’ His mates sniggered.
‘You want a game, Fisk?’ Bryce had never challenged Fisk to a sporting contest. Even Bubba was gob-smacked.
‘You?’ Fisk replied, full of scorn. ‘You wouldn’t know which end of the racquet to hold.’
‘Yeah, that’s if he could lift it,’ Mazis joined in.
Bryce didn’t flinch.
‘We’ll play Seven Off,’ Bryce said.
I looked at Jack. He shrugged, confused. ‘Bubba, Jack and me against you, and your two mates,’ Bryce added to Fisk.
I interrupted, thinking I was going to be left out of the action. Bryce held up a hand. ‘Mitchell, it’s our turn. Besides, we need an umpire. You’re it.’
‘What’s this seven stuff, Flavel?’ Fisk was interested. He loved a challenge
.
‘Okay. Three at each end. Normal tennis rules. Each person wears seven items of clothing. If a team loses a point, a member of the team must remove one piece of clothing. The team with the most clothes on after ten minutes wins. Or the first team to chicken out loses.’
Everyone was smiling. Bubba was already looking down and touching his clothes with one hand and counting.
‘Hey, Bryce, do socks count for two?’ he asked.
‘You play this every night you’re down here, do you?’ asked Jimmy Paisley, taking off his jacket.
‘No,’ said Bryce. ‘Only when we have company.’
Fisk started in his usual aggressive manner, but quickly realised that going for the smashing forehand was risky. He hadn’t warmed up and his eye wasn’t in. Paisley and Mazis were only average players. Soon there were piles of clothes on the sidelines, mainly runners and socks. Bryce had an amazing ability to get the ball back to the other side. He never smacked it hard, just got the ball back over the net. He was starting to annoy Mazis, who overrated his own tennis ability. Fortunately, it was up to each team to decide what, and from whom, the next item of clothing would be removed or Mazis would have been stripped naked in no time.
Bubba hovered near the net, where there wasn’t much running to be done. His reflexes were good, but Fisk and his team were lobbing the ball over his head.
The rallies were getting longer and more intense as each minute passed. A few shirts were being added to the piles of socks and shoes. Even Fisk was starting to become tentative, just tapping the ball gently back over the net, desperate to keep the ball in play.
Down the Line Page 1