by David Warner
‘He’s never done that before,’ Davey said.
‘Maybe he’s found something!’ Kevin began to run in the direction Max had come from.
‘Josh!’ he called.
Davey and Sunil looked at each other and followed at a slower pace.
‘Josh!’ Kevin called.
Max barked and ran out in front.
‘Help!’
A dim but unmistakable cry could be heard.
‘Jarrett!’
Davey took off at a run and Sunil signalled for the others to follow.
Over a rise they spotted Jarrett on the lowest branch of a tall tree further up the hill.
‘Don’t come any closer!’ Josh called.
‘What are you doing, Jarrett?’ Davey was exasperated. ‘Get down! We have a game to play.’
‘I can’t.’
Davey was annoyed now.
‘Jump, Jarrett! It’s not that high.’
‘It’s not the jump I’m scared of,’ moaned Josh pitifully.
‘What is it, then?’
Josh pointed.
Standing nearby, swishing its tail casually, stood a huge black bull. Its horns were enormous and looked very sharp.
‘Maybe it’s a friendly bull?’ Kevin suggested.
The bull pawed lazily at the ground and tossed its head.
‘I must have sleepwalked here. I tripped over and woke up to see this bull glaring at me in the moonlight. So I climbed up the tree. That was hours ago . . .’ Josh sounded like he might cry.
The bull snorted and tossed its head again.
Gggrrr, Max growled back.
‘Quiet, Max,’ Davey warned.
But Max had never done what he was told and he wasn’t about to start now.
Gggrr, growled Max, a little louder this time.
Rrrrrumph . . . rrrrummph, said the bull.
Max glared at the bull. The bull glared back.
The foxie crouched low then slowly crept towards the bull.
‘Here’s our chance, Jarrett, let’s go!’ Davey called in a low voice.
‘I . . .’ Josh pulled a face.
‘Hurry up!’
Max took a few steps forward. So did the bull.
‘I’m afraid of heights,’ Josh confessed in a small voice.
Davey laughed.
‘But you’re perfect!’
‘Nobody’s perfect, Warner. You of all people should know that!’ Josh growled.
Davey thought quickly. They only had a limited window of opportunity before the bull realised Max was not much bigger than an ant. He gestured for Sunil and George to join them.
‘We’re here for you, Josh. You just have to trust that we’ll catch you.’
Josh shook his head vigorously.
‘Resilience, remember . . .’ Kevin piped up.
‘Dig deep, Jarrett!’ Davey urged.
The boys stood in a group under Josh and joined arms.
‘Jump, Jarrett!’ Davey hissed.
Josh glanced at the bull again, took a deep breath and jumped.
CHAPTER 11
GAME ON
Once they had a shaky Josh on firm ground, the boys slowly retraced their steps until they were out of the bull’s sight.
Max kept the bull distracted and it finally lost interest in all of them and wandered off.
The dog barked happily and raced ahead of them. He looked immensely pleased with himself.
‘Thank you,’ Josh said quietly.
Nobody spoke as they made their way back to the campsite. From the top of the hill they could see cars pulling into the car park, and some of the Whackers players were already out on the ground.
Everyone was milling around waiting for them. Davey felt the familiar pre-game butterflies start up.
‘We better hurry.’ Sunil picked up his pace.
The group broke into a jog down the hill. The cows were gone, but there were plenty of fresh steaming piles of cow poo they needed to dodge.
‘WHERE HAVE YOU LOT BEEN?’ Mudge erupted when he saw them. His ears were flapping a bright postbox red. The rest of the team was dressed and waiting.
‘It’s my fault, Sir,’ said Josh sheepishly. ‘Max and Davey have been heroes.’
‘I very much doubt that! Now, hurry up and get kitted up.’
Josh looked pale and a little broken, nothing like his usual confident self. His night-time adventure had scarred him.
‘What happens on tour stays on tour, Jarrett,’ Davey said in a low voice. ‘Snap out of it and get your act together! We need our captain.’
Josh nodded. They hurriedly changed into their cricket gear, ready to make their way out onto the field.
Tay, however, was still in her sleeping bag, sitting on a bench shivering and looking miserable. As Davey and his teammates went over to her, Tay sneezed.
‘A-choo!’ A few seconds later, ‘A-choo!’
‘That’s not good,’ said Josh.
‘I can’t play,’ Tay said hoarsely, shivering again. ‘I’m too sick to keep.’
Josh turned to Davey: ‘You’ll have to be wicket-keeper, Warner,’ he directed Davey. ‘Really?’ Davey wasn’t very confident in his wicket-keeping abilities.
‘Really. And George, you’re in the team. Get changed now.’
‘For reals?’ George’s eyes lit up.
‘Your cheering is terrible. So get out there and play.’
Three of the Whackers players approached. They were even bigger up close. The captain, Rhino, nicknamed Rhino for good reason, shook hands with Josh.
‘You guys finally ready to play?’ he asked as he crushed Josh’s hand in his grip.
‘Bring it on!’ Josh answered, his voice like steel.
Josh lost the toss and the Whackers decide to bat first.
Sunil opened the bowling and got the third ball of the day to nip back from the off. The batsman snicked it with his inside edge, but Davey was slightly wrong-footed and dived too late. The ball brushed the tip of his glove and – to add insult to injury – ran all the way to the fence for a boundary.
‘Ouch!’ Sunil grimaced.
‘Sorry, mate,’ muttered Davey. He couldn’t believe he’d missed the chance.
Josh glowered at him. Davey had given one of the Whackers’ best players a second chance.
Their openers built a useful stand of thirty-five before a mistimed drive to mid-off saw Josh take a good catch and gave Sunil his first wicket.
The new batsman to come to the wicket was Rhino, and he proceeded to play an excellent innings, handling all the Slammers bowlers with ease.
The score mounted steadily until at last the Slammers had a bit of luck. After a mix-up with their calling, Rhino’s batting partner was run out.
However, the pitch was playing well and, with eight overs still to bat, the Whackers had already reached six for 184. It was looking like the Slammers would face a big score of well over 200.
Josh threw the ball to Sunil. ‘Come on, Deep,’ he said, with an edge to his voice, ‘we need some magic.’
What followed was an over that will long be remembered in the annals of Slammers cricket.
Sunil came steaming in and let fly a yorker right at the toes of the Whackers captain, who was still in and well set. Rhino was beaten for speed and the ball cannoned under his bat and shattered the stumps.
‘Out!’
‘Howzat?!’
‘What a ball!’
‘Corker yorker!’
The next batsman in played tentatively down the wrong line at Sunil’s next ball, which was right on track. It thumped into his pad and the whole team erupted.
‘HOWZAT?!’
Up went the umpire’s finger. Two wickets in two balls! Sunil was on a hat-trick.
The next ball was a beauty, pitching on off stump and swinging away. It was too good for the batsman, and the ball just missed the bat to almost graze the stumps.
Sunil groaned. Everyone groaned.
Sunil came charging in again and bowled a
short quick ball straight at the batsman, who could only spoon it out to short mid-on, where George took the catch and shouted in delight: ‘YES!’
Nine wickets down! Everyone gathered around George and clapped him on the back.
Bella and Kevin were cheering and chanting their heads off:
Everywhere we go,
People want to know
Who we are, so we tell them.
We’re from the South-East
And we’re hard to beat!
In came the number eleven. He made an unconvincing swish at the first ball and only succeeded in getting an outside edge through to Davey, who caught it in his gloves with glee.
Davey tossed it up in the air, shouting, ‘HOWIZEE?’
Sunil had snapped up four wickets in five balls. What a tremendous finish!
The cheerleading squad went wild. Even Mo looked slightly amused. The players ran over to congratulate Sunil as they came off the field for the innings break.
‘That was incredible, Sunil!’ Davey clapped his mate on the back.
‘Bit of a shaky start but you came good as wicky, mate,’ Sunil replied. ‘Now it’s your chance to smash it.’
Josh also shook his head at Davey’s earlier missed catch, but Sunil’s last over had restored his confidence. ‘If we bat well, we can do this! We have a real shot at winning.’
Davey nodded. Josh was right. They were in with a chance. He felt a rush of excitement at the challenge.
‘Selective aggression,’ Josh said to Davey.
Davey rolled his eyes at the comment and failed to notice a ball lying in the grass. He stepped on it with his right foot and immediately turned his ankle.
‘Aargh!’ Davey burst out at the instant pain.
Davey tried to stand, but his ankle was already throbbing. The best he could do when bearing weight was a painful hobble.
‘Mate . . .’ Sunil was lost for words.
‘No!’ Davey cried, as the realisation sank in.
Josh stared at the ankle. He knew all too well what this meant for them.
Davey stood on his left foot and leaned on Sunil. There was no way he’d be able to open the batting, if he could bat at all. They might as well write the game off straight away. What chance did the Slammers have of winning now?
CHAPTER 12
TEAM SPIRIT
Gary Grinaldi, the Whackers’ coach, rallied around and had Davey’s foot packed in ice and elevated within minutes.
Rhino and his teammates, however, were elated. They paraded around the Slammers, high-fiving like they had the game in the bag. It was punishing.
Don’t write me off just yet, Davey thought as he took it all in from a side bench. He felt utterly devastated. A big game where the stakes were so high and he had dropped a catch and rolled his ankle.
People milled around him. The Slammers were huddled in a crisis meeting with Josh. The cheerleaders were taking a well-earned drinks break. Mudge was drinking endless cups of tea and looked like he was in purgatory.
Ever thoughtful, Mo made sure to take the time to see how Davey was going.
‘Too chicken for the big league, Davey? You’re going to lose the game before you really lose it!’ He popped a Whopper Chomp into his mouth without offering one to Davey. Where was he getting them all? ‘Then you can blame your ankle when you lose.’
‘I’m going to bat, Mo, and you’re going to cheer your little heart out.’
Mo snorted. ‘You can’t make me do those dumb cheers.’
‘Yes, I can.’ Davey pulled his phone out and brought up the photo he’d taken of Mo asleep, sucking his thumb and cuddling his teddy. He held it out for Mo to see. The potato head went pale.
‘You look so cute,’ Davey said. ‘And he’s such a cuddly teddy.’
‘I’ll get you for this, Warner!’
‘Go help Bella rally the team.’ Mo lumbered off to chew on Davey’s words and the remains of his Whopper Chomp.
Mo had given Davey an idea. He called Josh over.
‘I’ve got a plan. Right now, the Slammers think they’re going to win. They’re over-confident. They might get careless. We need to turn it to our advantage, not give up.’
‘Davey,’ Josh turned to him and said clearly, ‘it pains me to say this, but without you playing, we have zero chance of winning.’
Davey grinned.
‘You’ve never called me Davey before. The ankle’s not as bad as I first thought it was. I can’t open the batting, but I can play.’
Davey outlined his plan to Josh, who agreed. If Mudge was okay with it, he was completely on board.
They had a chance, a slim chance.
‘Sir!’ Davey called to his teacher as Mudge was moving in for his fourth cupcake. Mudge wavered but sat down next to Davey.
‘I’ve been thinking about your class the other day, Mr Mudge,’ Davey began. ‘You said that we have it easy, Sir, not like the convicts or our forefathers.’
‘I’m pleased to hear that you were listening, Warner.’ Mudge shifted in his seat. ‘What of it?’
‘You want us to be resilient, Sir,’ – Davey was grappling for what to say as he said it – ‘but for that to really happen, you have to allow us to prove ourselves to you.’
Mudge’s ears remained pale. No flash of colour. Davey took this as a sign to continue.
‘I can bat, Sir. And if the ankle hurts too much, we can use a runner – get someone else to run between wickets for me.’
Mudge took a slurp of tea. ‘In the interests of team spirit and resilience, you can play if the first aid officer okays it.’
‘Thank you, Sir.’
Mudge leaned in to Davey and whispered, ‘Just promise me you’ll beat those Whackers.’
Davey gave Josh the thumbs up.
Bella and the cheerleaders went into overdrive. Mo was really getting into it. It seemed like the meatloaf had a talent for cheers.
‘You Whackers couldn’t catch a cold in a medical centre!’ Mo called.
Sunil opened the batting instead of Davey. He went in with Josh and they were immediately up against the legendary fast bowler, Cliff, the one who was six feet tall and could bowl at over 100 kilometres an hour.
Mo hadn’t exaggerated all that much. Cliff was a giant and his bowling was terrifyingly fast.
Josh batted very well and Sunil managed to hit a few. Sunil wasn’t a great batsman, but like many fast bowlers he had a very good eye. He decided that, if he was going to go down, he’d go down swinging.
While Josh batted elegantly, Sunil took on the bowlers and hit anything within reach as hard as he could. Somehow the two of them put on forty-four for the first wicket before Sunil was caught in the deep.
From there on, the wickets fell at regular intervals. Josh continued to bat in an untroubled fashion and enjoyed small but important partnerships with Caspar Chan and George Pepi.
The sixth wicket fell at 125. They still needed sixty runs.
They needed Davey. Josh signalled to Davey that it was now or never. Ankle rested, iced and strapped, Davey got the all-clear from the first aid officer.
This is it. Davey grabbed Kaboom and walked in.
CHAPTER 13
SLAMMED!
As Davey walked out, the crowd went wild. He could hear Bella and the group’s cheers –
Yo, yo, yo Whackers,
You smell like cheese and crackers,
Warner’s gonna have you for lunch,
Munch, munch, munch, crunch!
Yep, Mo was definitely having an influence.
A Whackers fan responded to the taunts. ‘Don’t choke on it, Warner!’
Davey loved this. The competition and cameraderie. The anticipation of battle.
Davey met Josh out in the middle. ‘I can’t do too much running, so we have to get the runs in boundaries or singles.’
Josh nodded.
Davey being left-handed meant that having his right ankle sprained made it difficult for him to play off the front foot. He needed t
o play off the back foot as much as possible – cutting, pulling and glancing. He knew he had his work cut out for him.
Tick, tock, tick . . . Kaboom,
Davey Warner’s in the room.
Wham, bam, slam.
Josh Jarrett, you da man!
Hearing the cheers really helped. Davey and Josh batted well, hitting several boundaries, and the total climbed steadily. They also tried to take singles where they could, Davey limping gamely between the wickets.
And they communicated well. Ever since the sleepwalking episode, Davey had seen Josh in a whole new light. He wasn’t perfect after all.
In this way, they got to six for 177. But the Slammers still needed eight runs off the last over.
Davey was facing Cliff, the Whackers’ number one fast bowler.
He pushed the first ball towards wide mid-off, who was standing a little deeper than usual.
‘Run!’ shouted Josh, setting off from the bowler’s end.
‘No!’ shouted Davey. ‘Get back!’ Davey knew his ankle wouldn’t get him to the other end in time. Josh turned, but slipped over as he tried to get back. He lunged frantically with his bat towards the crease. But even Josh couldn’t beat the direct hit from the fielder.
The bails flew and Josh was run out.
Five balls to go. Eight runs to win. Josh passed Davey on his way off.
‘I know you’ve got this, Davey,’ was all he said.
The number nine batter came in. It was Lydia Limone, who was a fast bowler but not the most confident of batters.
‘Leave it to me,’ Davey told her.
Davey knew it was up to him. Selective aggression, he told himself. In came Cliff again and produced a beautiful outswinger. Davey just managed to get his bat out of the way at the last second and the ball went through to the keeper. No run.
Four balls to go.
Eight runs to win.
The next ball was on a good length, direct at middle stump. Davey could only push it back to the bowler.
Three balls to go.
Eight runs to win.
The strain appeared to get to Cliff. He came in again, but tried for extra pace and pitched the ball short of a length and wide of off stump.
I’ve got this one, thought Davey.