They hopped off the bus and entered the ground through a huge set of black iron gates named the Grace Gates after the great cricketer WC Grace.
Once inside, both the Australian boys’ squads were given official tours of the ground. They even got to see the actual Ashes urn in the cricket museum and visit the players’ dressing rooms. Will gazed longingly at the honours boards where players that had scored centuries or taken five-wicket hauls had their name recorded. The visitors board featured some of the greatest players ever: Michael Clarke, the Waugh brothers, Slater, Boon, Border, all the way back to Bradman, recording his 254 in 1930. Their tour guide gave them a special treat, taking them out into the middle of the ground. Will stood on the pitch and stared out into the empty stands, imagining some day in the future when he might get to play a Test here and win the Ashes for Australia.
‘Hey Jack, why can’t we play at Lord’s?’ asked Darren.
Jack laughed. ‘I think they’ll be a bit flat out with the Ashes Test in a couple of weeks … Besides, if you make it to the final, you’ll be playing at London’s other great ground: The Oval!’
‘Do you think we can make it, Jack?’ asked Will dreamily.
‘Of course we can – we’re Aussies, we always have a chance.’
Will glanced over at Toby who was busy laughing with his Sydney teammate, leg spinner Justin Grainger.
Can we play as a team? That’s the big question, wondered Will.
After the tour, the team was whisked off to the London Cricket Academy and each player was able to have a practice session in the nets and have their batting or bowling analysed using PitchVision and Hawk-Eye.
As Will watched the recording of his over on a laptop with one of the Academy instructors, he couldn’t help overhearing a pointed comment and some sniggering from behind.
‘We’ve got no chance of making the final if that’s the best our captain can do!’
Will didn’t need to look to know it was Toby, Justin and Hayden chortling away behind him. It was exactly the sort of confidence crusher he didn’t need before they played in their first group match tomorrow.
MATCH DAY
The next morning, Will woke up early. It was only 5 am but the sun was already peeking its head up over the terrace rooftops of Dunsbridge.
Will slipped on some shorts and his runners, careful not to wake the other boys, and quietly crept down the creaky old wooden stairs and outside. Even though he didn’t feel jet-lagged he was still finding it hard to adjust to the time difference. He knew he’d never get back to sleep so he decided to go for a jog, hoping it might clear his mind for the match later that day. Australia had been drawn in Group A with Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Afghanistan, Ireland and the West Indies. Their first game was against the West Indies and Will was already feeling nervous for their first match in the T20 Youth World Cup.
He plugged in his earphones and set off on a run around the sprawling green grounds of the school. Will lost himself in thought about the big game ahead and almost leapt out of his skin when a squirrel scurried across the grass in front of him.
By the time he got back to the dorm, the other boys were getting ready for breakfast.
‘Where you been? We’re going down for breakfast now,’ grunted Darren.
Will mimed jogging.
‘You’re keen.’
Will showered and changed, then hurried to the dining room to join the others. It was a typical English breakfast with eggs, bacon, sausages, beans, tomato and mushroom. It smelt good but he found it hard to look at that greasy hot food first thing in the morning so he grabbed a bowl of cereal instead.
Before he knew it, they were boarding the coach again and heading off for their first match, against the formidable West Indians.
Will sat on the bench and looked out across the Kew Cricket Club ground. He saw only a sea of maroon and gold, the colours of the West Indies. Where there wasn’t maroon, there were yellow, green and black Jamaican flags. It was clear whose side the crowd was on. If the colours hadn’t given it away, the noise would have. There were plenty of chants of ‘Windies’ and when Jack and some of the senior players who had come to watch tried to get an ‘Aussie! Aussie! Aussie!’ chant going, the crowd’s response was not ‘Oi! Oi! Oi!’ but a long, loud ‘Boooo!’.
‘Don’t you think it’s funny,’ said Shavil to Will, ignoring the booing from the crowd, ‘that the place names here are the same as in Australia? We’re playing at the Kew Cricket Club, and there’s Kew Cricket Club in Melbourne, too! Weird, huh?’
‘It’s probably got something to do with the fact that English people named a lot of the places in Australia. I guess they couldn’t be bothered making up new names.’
‘You know who was born in Kew? Maxi!’ said Shavil, answering his own question. ‘Do you think we’ll see him over here? He’s in the Australian tour squad and he usually plays county cricket for Hampshire as well. How cool would it be to see him here?’
Will shrugged. He didn’t want to get his hopes too high. He turned his attention back to the game.
Toby and Brock had gotten on top of the West Indian bowling attack and were smashing boundaries, adding to Shavil’s 42. Will watched for a while as Brock and Toby continued their partnership, Toby blazing the way with an unbeaten 66.
Will didn’t like to admit it but Toby was a much better batsman than he was. In the six months since the T20 National Youth Shield final, Toby had grown taller and stronger and he seemed much more powerful with the bat. He even made Brock look ordinary and Brock was awesome. By the time the first innings ended, Australia had a commanding score of 163 and the West Indian fans had finally gone quiet.
The Australian bowlers had less success than their batters. Jack had warned them that the pitches here might be different to what they were used to – because of the constantly wet weather – and when Will was out in the field he could see that the wicket was definitely a lot greener and softer than most Australian pitches and more suited to swing bowling. Darren and Joey, who were fast bowlers and were used to bounce, weren’t as effective as they were back home and the West Indian batsmen began to dominate in the same way that Toby and Brock had.
‘We can’t keep going like this, we’re getting smashed!’ said Hayden between overs. Will had to agree. He decided to replace Darren and Joey early and put on the medium pacer from Queensland, Dylan, and the Tasmanian left-arm bowler Danny Young, hoping that some variation might make it harder for the batsmen. Somehow, the two West Indian batsmen managed to hit out even more and the boundaries began flowing faster than ever.
Will glanced across the field and saw Toby in the slips, shaking his head in obvious disapproval.
I’m not going to let him get to me, Will vowed, as he thought about his next change in attack.
Will decided that in the next over he’d give Justin a go. He had watched Justin carefully in the friendly against New Zealand and knew that he was a decent leg spinner and usually accurate.
If I can get the field right, maybe I can bluff them, thought Will. It’s worth a try.
At the end of Danny’s over, he walked towards Justin and tossed him the ball. ‘All right, you’re up. Now, pretend you’re telling me where you want the field.’
‘What?’
‘I’m going to give you a more attacking field and I want them to think you’re the next Warnie,’ said Will.
Justin glanced across to Toby then back at Will. ‘But don’t we need to stop them scoring?’ he asked, doubtfully.
‘We need wickets,’ said Will. ‘We need them now.’
Will left three fielders to cover the boundaries but brought everyone else in, moving Shavil to short third man, Brock to extra cover and placing himself in at square leg.
Will watched Toby shake his head again, and when Justin bowled his first delivery and the lanky West Indian batsman swept it for four, Toby made his disapproval more obvious.
‘Well, that worked brilliantly!’ he chimed loudly from the slips.
‘Good stuff, but try it straighter. Aim for top of off stump,’ said Will.
But it made no difference. The batsman went over the top of Will at square leg and the ball ran away for four. Justin’s head went down and Will heard Toby boo loudly.
Will turned back to Justin. ‘Great, same again.’ Then he rubbed his nose and mouthed one word so that only Justin could see. Quicker.
Justin nodded, his face telling Will that he was still dubious of his game plan.
‘And Justin … smile,’ added Will. ‘You’re about to take a wicket.’
Justin forced a grin then walked back to his mark. The batsman prepared himself.
I hope this works, thought Will.
Justin turned his arm over just as he had for the first two deliveries, but this time the ball came out of his hand a lot quicker and skidded off the pitch at the batsman who rushed the shot he had been planning. The ball popped straight up and, instead of sailing over Will’s head again, landed safely in his hands.
The team ran in and smothered Justin with high fives and back slaps. All except Toby.
TRUE TEAM SPIRIT
Justin’s first wicket was quickly followed by two more, both LBW. Then Will chipped in with a nice caught-and-bowled. After that, the wickets kept falling and the West Indians began to panic. They needed 16 off the last over – still very possible – but Danny came back from a disappointing start and bowled a decent final over, even managing to find some late swing. The West Indians fell just six short but it was enough. Australia had their first World Cup win.
On the trip back to Dunsbridge, Jack and Graham led the boys in a rousing rendition of ‘Waltzing Matilda’ to celebrate their win, then Jack addressed them.
‘Well done, boys – it was great to see the juniors and seniors both get a win today. I was a little worried with the juniors there for a moment but thanks to some good captaining we got the job done.’ Jack looked at Will. ‘Good stuff, Will.’
There were some cheers and woots but Will thought he also heard a ‘Show off’, quickly hidden by a cough. He ignored it. He was just glad that his plan had worked.
‘It’s a great start, boys, but there’s a lot of work ahead. I think we can improve on today’s performance by talking more to each other in the field.’ Jack looked around the seats of the coach, resting his eyes on each junior boy. ‘We’ve got some great players in this team but we haven’t got a great team yet. We need to play as one, not 11.’
There was a general murmur of agreement and a lot of head nodding but somewhere between the trip back to Dunsbridge and the team taking to the field for their next match, the message got lost.
When they arrived at the Kent County Cricket Club in Beckenham the next morning, everyone seemed confident and ready to play Afghanistan.
It was Saturday and shaping up to be a beautiful summer’s day. There was a light breeze whipping across the traditional-looking oval and it was already a pleasant 24 degrees. All the Kent county cricketers and officials had come out to watch the cricket and while there were a lot of Afghani flags, there were some Australian supporters as well. Although this was good, from Will’s perspective the best thing about today was that both the Australian girls’ teams would be playing at the same field. Will would finally get to see Zoe.
Will hoped Zoe would be watching his team. He was going to play hard. They had a game to win.
Australia won the toss and Will elected to bat first. While the Afghanis were unconventional in their bowling attack – they started with one off-spinner and one medium-pace bowler – their enthusiasm in the field was incredible. They were constantly talking and calling to each other, they ran everywhere, chased down every ball with gusto and threw at the stumps almost every time the Australians took a run.
Shavil and Toby made a good start and the bowling didn’t trouble them too much, but the pressure they felt when running between the wickets soon started to mount. Twice Toby sent Shavil back because of the speed of the Afghanis’ return throws. The third time, though, Toby decided to risk it. It was a costly mistake, and Brock came out to the middle to replace him.
That was when the Afghani off-spinner delivered a mystery ball that Will was sure he had never seen before. It seemed to be a variation on the carrom ball, but the way he flicked it out of his hand looked different to what Will practised. Whatever it was, it worked. The first one he bowled spun to Brock’s left and wrong-footed him. Then the bowler flicked the ball back to the right and it bamboozled Brock completely. He took a big swing, missed and was stumped by the quick-thinking wicketkeeper. When Will walked out to the crease, Australia was two for 33 and he knew they were in trouble.
The problem was the Afghanis. They were amazing.
To make matters worse, the better the Afghanis played, the more the crowd got involved. There might not have been as many supporters of the Afghani team as there had been for the West Indian team, but they were every bit as vocal, chanting, singing and banging drums. Even the people in the crowd who had seemed impartial at the beginning of the game started cheering on the Afghani underdogs over the favoured Australians.
Shavil and Will tried to steady the ship but the Afghanis were so quick in the field, even when they had a shy at the stumps, that the Aussies weren’t keen to run on the overthrow because they knew the return throw would be just as quick. Will was so impressed he felt compelled to ask the wicketkeeper about it after scrambling back to the batsman’s end just before the midfielder’s throw smashed the ball through the stumps.
‘How did you guys get so good at that?’
The Afghan wickie smiled. ‘In Afghanistan we sometimes play with only one stump.’
‘Right,’ nodded Will. ‘That would do it.’
Will managed to survive and began to find the boundary, although the Afghani spinners (there were four of them), seemed to be adjusting to the slow, grassy surface of the English wicket. By the end of the twenty overs, Australia had clawed their way to 126, with Will stealing 52 before being caught right on the boundary by a flying fieldsman.
‘Those guys are incredible,’ said Will to the team as they took drinks before the second innings. ‘We need to be just like that. We need to back up with our fielding and chase down everything.’
But things didn’t go to plan. The Afghanis had fielded as a team, constantly chattering and calling to each other and backing up each other’s throws. The same couldn’t be said for the Australians. Instead of talking to each other, they ran around like a pack of headless chooks, diving for balls and missing, dropping catches and throwing at the stumps when there was no one at the wicket. It was only due to the skill of the bowlers that the Aussies were able to keep finding wickets. The Afghanis weren’t used to the pace of bowlers like Darren, who had decided to vary his flight by using the seam of the ball rather than the bounce of the pitch.
When they got down to the tailenders, it was over quickly, with Killer finding the stumps three times in one over and missing a hat-trick by one delivery.
Will shook hands with the departing Afghani batsmen and watched enviously as the whole Afghani team huddled and sang their national anthem together despite their loss, while the Australians walked off one by one, looking tired and relieved rather than victorious. It was the first time for Will that a win had felt more like a loss.
REST DAY
‘Come on, Will, we were supposed to be on the coach three minutes ago,’ called Shavil through the thick wooden door of the bathroom.
‘What’s he doing in there?’ asked Darren.
‘I think he’s making himself beautiful for Zoe,’ cooed Shavil.
‘Shut up!’ Will yelled from behind the door. He was annoyed because Shavil was pretty much spot-on. He usually didn’t bother styling his hair, but today – the only day when he actually cared what it looked like – it just refused
to cooperate. There were three awkward clumps sticking up at the back and no matter how much wetting and flattening he did, they refused to stay down.
Will had been hoping to see Zoe after the match against Afghanistan yesterday but immediately after the boys had finished, Zoe’s game had begun. He had tried to wave to her a few times, but all her attention had been on the match and she hadn’t seen him. After the game when Will finally had his chance, there were so many people crowding around Zoe and congratulating her on how well she had played that Will hadn’t been able to get a word in.
He was hoping today would be different. All four of the Australian squads were heading into London for a day of sightseeing. His mind was buzzing with anticipation and it was nice not to be thinking about cricket for once.
‘We’re going, Will,’ sang Shavil through the door. ‘You’d better hurry!’
Will gave his hair one more good smoothing with his fingers and ran after the others.
It was a bright, blue-skied Sunday, perfect for a day of exploring. When the boys got to London, they waited for the girls’ teams to arrive then everyone boarded the hop-on, hop-off tour bus. It was a red double-decker bus with the roof missing, so that the people sitting at the top could see everything around them.
Will noticed Zoe take the stairs to the top so he followed, dragging Shavil in tow. He found her sitting with one of her teammates.
Directly behind Toby Gregg.
Oh great, thought Will.
Will chose the seat across the aisle from Zoe and her friend. Soon the bus began to move and the tour got underway. Will wondered how he could get Zoe’s attention without being noticed by Toby. He needn’t have bothered – Zoe saw him first.
‘Willster!’ shouted Zoe happily. ‘Fancy seeing you here in London.’
‘Hi Zoe, I didn’t realise you were sitting up here,’ said Will unconvincingly, and Shavil had to cover his mouth to stifle a giggle. Will glanced over at Toby. Luckily he seemed to be busy looking at the famous landmarks the cockney tour guide was pointing out.
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