Glenn Maxwell 4

by Patrick Loughlin

  Wait a second … head!

  Will remembered the call he’d invented during a quick chat with Hayden, their wickie.

  That’s it!

  He looked at Hayden and patted his head. Hayden nodded to tell Will that he knew what was coming. For his second ball, Will moved in and at the last moment changed his grip on the ball towards the leg side. He then delivered a perfect carrom ball. It completely fooled the batsman who tried to defend but couldn’t stop the ball from finding the edge of the bat. It flew through to Hayden and just like that Ireland was one for four.

  When the new Irish batsman arrived, clearly nervous to face the next ball, Will rubbed his head and Hayden nodded again. This time Will switched his grip, placing his centre finger back towards the off side and squeezing out another well-placed carrom ball that skidded off the pitch and, like a heat-seeking missile, found the new batman’s glove on the way past the stumps. Hayden took a great diving catch to his right and leapt up with the ball in his glove.

  The Australian team screamed as one. ‘Howzat!’

  Ireland was two for four and never recovered. From that point on, Australia was on top. Darren continued the wicket taking with his first over and the wickets kept falling steadily with the Irish middle orders and tailenders managing to scrape together 56 before being all out in the fifteenth over. Shavil and Toby soon chased down most of the runs, with Brock providing a quick-fire 12 off five after Shavil was caught in the deep.

  Australia won their match.

  Now they just had to sweat on the result between Afghanistan and Pakistan.

  ‘Please, Jack!’ pleaded Will in the change rooms while the rest of the team celebrated the win with a much-deserved drinks break.

  ‘You really want me to ask the driver to drive us 30 minutes in the other direction to watch Afghanistan play?’ asked Jack.

  Will nodded eagerly.

  Jack screwed up his face. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really really!’ smiled Will hopefully.

  ‘All right. But only because I can’t stand waiting to find out the result either. This doesn’t mean I’m a pushover,’ said Jack, desperately trying to defend his reputation as a tough-as-nails old-school coach.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Will trying to hold back a grin.

  WILL TO THE RESCUE

  When the Australian team arrived at the County Ground in Hampshire where Afghanistan was playing, they were surprised by the story the scoreboard told.

  It was the fifth over of the second innings and Afghanistan was batting. They’d kept Pakistan to a first-innings score of 123 and the Afghanis were powering along at three for 52.

  ‘They could really do this,’ said Darren, as the Aussie team found a spot in the stands near some English kids who had come to watch the cricket in their summer break. ‘Maybe we can get through to the finals.’

  A small spark of hope fired inside Will. He recognised the batsman at the crease from the game they’d played against Afghanistan. His name was Javed Ali and he was very good. He was also short like Will, which made Will like him even more.

  Come on, Javed, thought Will. You can do it!

  Javed was on 33. Will watched as he slashed at a short ball and pulled it for four.

  There were cheers from the crowd but Will noticed Javed inspecting his bat. Something was wrong. Then Will spotted the problem. Javed’s bat had a massive crack in it, right near the handle. One more shot and it would probably snap.

  The umpire called a halt to the over and Javed signalled to one of his teammates to bring him a replacement. Will caught a glimpse of the spare bat his teammate brought out. It looked okay but Javed was turning it over in his hands and shaking his head. He could tell from Javed’s face that he wasn’t happy. He needed his own bat – the feel of the grip, the weight of the wood. He’d been playing so well, a new bat would be like starting all over again.

  Then Will saw Javed’s cracked bat on the ground. The familiar orange flame jumped out at him. It was a Kookaburra Firebird, just like his.

  The solution hit Will like a slap in the face.

  ‘Back in a sec,’ he said to Shavil. He bolted back to the coach, grabbed his own Kookaburra Firebird out of his kitbag, and sprinted over to the Afghani team’s bench.

  ‘Here, give him this,’ Will said.

  ‘But …’ Javed’s teammate screwed up his face in confusion. ‘Where did you get this?’

  ‘Don’t worry, just give it to him. He can’t stop now,’ said Will.

  The Afghani nodded and slowly took the bat. ‘Thank you,’ he said, then jogged back out to the middle just as play was called.

  ‘You’re crazy, that was your best bat. What if something happens to it?’ said Shavil when Will resumed his seat.

  ‘He needs it more than me right now,’ replied Will.

  Javed looked around amazed when his teammate presented the Firebird to him but he accepted it gladly.

  From that point on, Javed didn’t stop scoring runs. While Pakistan continued to take wickets, they couldn’t get the one they wanted. They couldn’t get Javed. He went on to make 63 not out and Afghanistan won their first and only game of the tournament.

  The Australian boys got to their feet and cheered louder than anyone else in the ground as Javed and his batting partner jogged triumphantly from the field.

  Javed gave Will back the Firebird.

  ‘Thanks …’

  ‘Will. Will Albright.’

  They shook hands. ‘Thanks, Will. I’m not sure how I would have performed without it.’

  ‘You were amazing!’ said Will.

  Javed laughed. ‘Not amazing enough to get into the finals. But there’s always next year. Good luck in the finals!’

  Will smiled and walked back to his team. There was one thing that was still troubling him and he had to face it head-on the next day. Their chances of winning the World Cup depended on it.

  AGAINST THE WIND

  The wind howled on Salisbury Plain as Will and Toby stood eye to eye, locked in the mother of all stare-offs. They were standing beneath the most famous stone monoliths in the world with gale-force winds bearing down on them. It was a very atmospheric location, almost like a scene out of a fantasy movie, except instead of swords and shields they were armed with glaring eyes and furrowed brows.

  The Australian teams were taking a day’s break with a trip to Stonehenge. It had been sunny when they’d headed off but the day had become greyer and a line of storm clouds had pushed their way across the sky. They weren’t the only things pushing their weight around. Toby had been making his usual not-so-subtle digs at Will but today Will decided he wasn’t going to take it anymore. So when one of the junior boys asked their tour guide, ‘How did they build Stonehenge?’ – and Toby responded with a lame ‘Dunno, how did we get Will for a captain?’ – Will had finally had enough.

  He forced his way through the group and stood right in front of Toby.

  ‘Well?’ said Will, having to yell a little to be heard above the wind.

  ‘Well what?’ snapped Toby.

  ‘I asked you what’s your problem?’

  ‘Don’t have one,’ said Toby with a snarling half-smile on his lips that suggested otherwise.

  ‘Rubbish!’ said Will. ‘You’ve been giving it to me ever since we got the team together in Sydney. Is it because we beat you in the final last year? Or are you just mad that you’re not captain?’

  Toby raised his eyebrows and shook his head, but couldn’t stop himself looking down at the grass. Will could see he had hit a nerve. ‘Tell me; let’s get this over with.’

  ‘I don’t have to tell you anything,’ muttered Toby. He turned to walk away, but Will pressed on. His voice was a little shaky and his legs felt wobbly but he was in too far to stop now.

  ‘Hey, don’t walk away from me! We’re going to deal with this now or …’

  Toby spun back around. ‘Or what?’

  ‘Or you won’t be playing tomorrow in the semifinal.’


  Toby shot Will a burning glare. ‘Yeah right!’

  ‘I’m the captain and you either talk now or you don’t play,’ said Will firmly. His voice wasn’t shaky now. It was strong and clear.

  ‘You don’t decide the team, Jack does.’

  ‘You’re right. But if things don’t change I’ll ask Jack to drop you. I won’t play with someone who doesn’t respect their captain.’

  ‘Who said I didn’t respect you?’ asked Toby.

  Will looked back at Toby in complete disbelief. ‘You’re joking, right? You’ve been bagging me the whole trip!’

  Toby bit his bottom lip and looked back down at the ground. ‘Yeah well … It’s only …’ He stopped and huffed out a breath, then looked up.

  ‘Only what?’ demanded Will.

  ‘Only because you know … everyone loves you,’ mumbled Toby.

  Will shook his head. Everyone loves me? Now he really was confused.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  It poured out of Toby in a torrent, as if he’d been holding it in the whole trip and Will had finally given him permission to say it out loud.

  ‘Jack, for one! He’s always saying what a good captain you are …’

  ‘That was just the first game –’

  ‘The whole team worships you! Shavil, Darren, Joey, Brock, the Queenslanders. Justin won’t stop going on about how you helped him take those wickets against the West Indians and Hayden thinks you’re amazing because of your carrom ball and all your secret signs and calls.’

  ‘What? But they’re your mates, I thought –’

  ‘Even Jack’s niece likes you.’

  ‘Well, that’s not true –’

  ‘You always do something amazing every game, like take some magic wicket out of nowhere …’

  ‘Have we been playing the same games?! Did you see my dropped catch and my terrible over against Sri Lanka?’

  ‘I play my heart out and no one notices –’

  ‘No one notices?! You’re our leading run maker!’

  ‘And to top it off, you go and lend your bat to someone you don’t even know and you’re the hero. Again!’ Toby went quiet and let out a long, slow breath. ‘Just like in the final last year.’

  ‘Toby, I …’ Will didn’t know what to say. He’d thought Toby hated his guts. It turned out he was just as insecure about his place in the team as Will was.

  Toby looked up at Will. ‘I’m sorry for … you know … bagging you. I was just angry because … you’re the great Will Albright. How can I compete with that?’

  ‘Toby, you don’t have to compete with me. We’re on the same team.’ Without even thinking about it, Will stuck out his hand and offered it to Toby.

  Toby looked down at Will’s hand.

  ‘Come on,’ urged Will. ‘The team needs both of us if we’re going to win tomorrow.’

  Finally Toby reached out and took Will’s hand.

  A loud round of applause and a heap of cheers cut through the blasting wind. It was the rest of the team. They’d been watching the whole thing.

  Toby looked embarrassed at first but Will just threw his hands in the air and laughed. Then Toby smiled, too. Just a little.

  Well, it’s a start, thought Will.

  ON FIRE

  Will stood in the middle of the pitch and stared into the eyes of his opponent, looking for any sign of weakness, something that might give away his game plan. But if there was any weakness there, the South African captain was doing a good job of disguising it.

  ‘We’ll bat first,’ said the South African captain with ice-cool calm.

  ‘All right, Australia, you’ll be bowling,’ said the umpire. ‘We will commence at 1 pm.’

  As he jogged back towards the pavilion a little ripple of worry wormed its way into Will’s toes then took the express elevator straight to his heart.

  He looked around at the huge green ground of Old Trafford. There was a slight breeze that played across the glorious Manchester sunshine (which, according to Jack, was a rarity). Perfect conditions for batting first.

  I guess we’ll just have to bowl brilliantly like the girls’ team did, concluded Will.

  So far it had been a good morning for Australia. The junior girls’ team had crushed their Indian opposition with Zoe in unstoppable, team-beating form. She scored 58 from 25 balls then took three wickets to lead her team to an easy six-wicket victory in the seventeenth over. While the senior girls’ team had missed out on making it through to the semifinals, the senior boys’ team would also play South Africa straight after the juniors.

  Hopefully we can make it three straight wins for Australia, thought Will to himself.

  But just five overs into the first innings, two straight wins were starting to look unlikely, let alone three. The South African openers had demolished the Australian pace attack. While the Old Trafford pitch had a bit of bounce, that didn’t stop the South Africans from slapping the ball all around the ground. They had already chalked up a 50-run partnership. Darren got the breakthrough they needed with a great running catch from the Queenslander Cooper. But the South African third batsman got himself off to a flyer the next over with a massive six, then two fours off Joey’s over.

  Will took off his cap and literally scratched his head.

  What are we doing wrong?

  He checked his arm where he could just make out the faded texta from their match against Ireland.

  Be bold. Change up. Talk. Boundary.

  Okay, Will thought. I can change the field to cut off the shorter boundaries and make them hit down the ground. It’s time to bring the spinners into the game. And we definitely need to talk more.

  ‘All right, boys, let’s do this!’ Will shouted, clapping his hands. He brought the third man fielder over to cover the gully where both batsmen were getting a lot of late cuts away to the short boundary, then took up the ball. Will was not going to give up a spot in the T20 Youth World Cup without a decent fight.

  ‘Howzat!’ screamed the bowler. The umpire nodded and raised his finger.

  Brock shook his head and began the long walk back to the pavilion. Will passed him on his way. ‘Sorry, Will,’ said Brock.

  Will patted him on the back. ‘You can do all the scoring in the final,’ he said, then trotted out to the middle of Old Trafford. It was the same thing he’d said to Shavil who was caught behind playing an uncharacteristic lazy shot in the first over. He had to say something positive, even though inside he was frustrated that they had both chosen today to underperform.

  Will began swinging his arms and playing a few air shots on his way to the crease and tried to at least look confident.

  The Australians had fought their way back in the field with some clever spin bowling and acrobatic catching, managing to keep South Africa to 150 runs. But now they were two down for just ten, Will was getting a sinking feeling. If he or Toby got out quickly, they would be in deep trouble.

  When he got to the pitch, Toby was there in the middle waiting for him.

  I wonder if yesterday made any difference, thought Will. Then he noticed Toby’s glove clench into a fist.

  ‘Good luck, Will,’ said Toby, holding out his glove for a fist bump. Will grinned in surprise, then punched Toby’s glove playfully. It was nice to finally feel like teammates.

  ‘Whatever happens, one of us needs to be here at the end. We can’t leave it all to the middle order and tailenders,’ said Will.

  ‘Fair enough. Any game plan?’ asked Toby.

  ‘Same as always,’ smiled Will. Toby squinted in confusion.

  ‘Oh yeah? What’s that?’

  ‘Stay calm, hit big, don’t get out,’ said Will. It was something he usually said to Shavil.

  Toby looked at Will for a moment then laughed.

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  Will stood at the crease and prepared for the first delivery. He took a deep breath in and tried to relax even though he felt like someone had tied his intestines into knots.

 
; Okay, he told himself. Anticipate. Act.

  The bowler steamed in towards the pitch. Will watched the bowler’s hand as it rolled over, his fingers spread wide across the seam.

  Leg cutter, decided Will. He moved forward onto the front foot and flicked his bat just as the ball arrived for a deftly timed leg glance. The ball rolled away to the fence. The Australian supporters gave a noisy applause.

  This was followed by another four then Will took a single, offering up the strike to Toby. Toby found the boundary as well and from that point on, both boys were on fire. They matched each other shot for shot, grabbing sneaky singles to keep the strike rotating between boundaries.

  Toby cut a late-swinging ball through the gap in the covers. Will punished a loose delivery through mid-wicket and the ball thumped the fence with a clang. Toby lofted a drive through the air and down the ground. Will took on an off-break from the South African spinner, tucking it nicely through a hole in the field to the fine leg boundary. Before they knew it, they’d put on their own 50-run partnership and were really having fun.

  Then it happened.

  Will was deceived by a well-flighted ball. Instead of leaving it, he chased it with the bat and nicked an edge straight to the man in slips. He was clearly out and he had no choice but to walk, leaving Toby at the crease.

  It was all up to Toby now.

  VICTORY RIDE

  It was a four-hour coach trip from Manchester back to Kent and for the first hour at least, the singing, cheering and all-out noisy celebrating didn’t stop. Not that Jack or Graham or any of the other coaches minded. Australia had three teams through to the T20 Youth World Cup final.

  Toby was the hero of the day. He had done exactly what the team had needed him to do. He had seen the innings all the way through to the end. While the Australian middle order – Cooper, Hayden and Darren – had provided good support, it was Toby who had scored the lion’s share of runs. Will and the team had watched nervously from the grandstand until the very end. A final cover drive from Toby on the second-last ball saw Australia win the match.