Super Sporty

by Chrissie Perry

  Contents

  Netball Dreams

  Dancing Queen

  Sink or Swim

  Karate Kicks

  The Worst Gymnast

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  I held my breath and crossed my fingers. Inside my runners, I tried to cross my toes. But there wasn’t enough room for that.

  Pick me, pick me, pick me, I said over and over in my head.

  I was standing on our school netball courts in the cool winter sun. Around me was a crowd of kids. So I didn’t like my chances of being picked soon. Two classes is a lot of kids to choose from.

  Callum was standing out the front with the five other team captains, deciding who to pick for his team.

  ‘Hey, Alex,’ whispered Becky beside me. ‘Hope we’re on Callum’s team.’

  Becky’s my best friend in the whole world. Sometimes – like now – she can even read my mind.

  ‘Of course he’ll choose you!’ I said, and made a sloppy kissing sound.

  Callum and Becky have known each other forever. They almost kissed once!

  I knew Callum would choose Becky. He had already chosen his best friends, Mickey and Brad. That was why I was crossing my fingers – I wanted to stay with Becky. I didn’t want to be left out!

  Becky just rolled her eyes at my kissing sound. She seemed calm.

  But I wasn’t calm. I could feel my peanut butter sandwich churning around in my stomach.

  The teams being chosen now were for a whole term of netball. If I made it onto a team with Becky and the gang, it would be a term of jokes and fun. But if I didn’t get picked with my friends, there was no telling what might happen.

  Now it was Callum’s third pick. Becky stood straight and hopeful next to me.

  ‘Um … Becky,’ said Callum.

  When she heard her name, Becky did a little jump and clapped her hands. Her blonde plaits bounced on her shoulders.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Becky said, and winked. Then she headed out the front to stand with Callum, Mickey and Brad.

  Now I was on my own. And I was worried. Callum was good friends with Becky. But he was only friends with me because of Becky.

  Will he choose me for his team?

  He wasn’t going to choose me for my netball skills, that’s for sure. In fact, no-one was going to choose me for my netball skills. Balls and me? We don’t really mix.

  If I try to throw a ball somewhere, it’s more likely to end up anywhere except where I want it to go. Around me, balls have a mind of their own.

  And catching them? Let’s just say, it’s really hard to catch a ball with your eyes squeezed shut. So I was going to be left until the end – with all the kids that no-one wants on their team. Whoever got stuck with me would spend all term wishing that I wasn’t on their team. And I was going to spend all term wishing the same thing.

  Callum’s team was my only hope.

  Soon my peanut butter sandwich felt like wobbly mush in my stomach. I wasn’t standing in the middle of a crowd anymore. Most kids had already been picked for a team.

  I was standing in a row with about ten other left-overs. None of us were any good at sport.

  The captains were scratching their heads and frowning. It felt pretty bad, as if we had a sign over our heads, saying WE CAN’T PLAY NETBALL.

  Callum had chosen two more people after Becky – Angie and Claire. Angie and Claire were both on Callum’s basketball team. We call them the Basketball Girls. They’re tall and good at sport. It made sense that he picked them.

  Now was the last chance for Callum to pick me. I held my breath.

  Then I heard it. The word I wanted so much to hear. ‘Alex!’

  When Callum called my name, he laughed, as if he had been planning to choose me all along. Maybe he did count me as a friend. With a cheer, I ran up and hugged Becky. Angie and Claire did a high five.

  ‘This team is going to be so awesome!’ said Claire.

  It felt good to escape the left-overs, but I felt sorry for them, too.

  Tony, a boy in the other class, was the last one left. Tony’s really bad at sport. Even worse than me. And that’s saying something!

  When he was finally picked, Tony did a silly cheer with both arms in the air. But I knew that inside he must have felt bad.

  Then Mr Dwyer clapped his hands. He’s our P.E. teacher and he’s pretty cool. He calls me ‘Awesome Alex’, even though I’m not awesome at sport. Mr Dwyer is nice to everyone.

  ‘All right, people!’ called Mr Dwyer, clapping his hands again to get our attention. ‘Take a seat while I explain what’s going to happen.’

  There was shuffling and chatting as everyone sat. The ground felt rough and hard under my legs. But I didn’t mind. All I could think about was how glad I was to be on a team with my friends.

  ‘The netball tournament starts in two weeks,’ called Mr Dwyer.

  Callum gave us all a thumbs-up, as if he was expecting us to win.

  ‘Next week, I want you to get to know your team,’ continued Mr Dwyer. He paced in front of us like an army captain in front of his troops. ‘Some team members have good ball skills and lots of experience. Others have less experience,’ he added.

  I didn’t look at Mr Dwyer when he said that. I knew he was talking about people like me.

  ‘But everyone brings something special to their team,’ called Mr Dwyer, and punched his fist in the air. ‘I want you all to remember that.’

  I brushed an ant off my leg. Everyone brings something special? Around balls, nothing I did was special.

  But at least, when I did nothing special this term, I would be doing it with my friends.

  ‘I’m out the back!’ called Mum, when she heard me get home from school.

  I pinched two rice balls from the fridge. Then I went out the back door to see Mum. The rich smell of fresh soil met me. I had to step carefully to keep my shoes clean.

  ‘How was school?’ asked Mum.

  She shook dirt from a bunch of carrots and dropped them in a basket.

  ‘Good,’ I said, as I munched on a rice ball. ‘I’m on a netball team with Becky and the gang.’

  Mum wiped a strand of hair from her forehead and left a smudge of dirt. ‘Really! That’s like basketball, is it?’

  Mum’s about as sporty as I am. She hardly knows anything about sport. I kept eating the rice balls as I explained the difference between basketball and netball. Mr Dwyer had taught us that already.

  ‘And that’s why the best players are Angie, Claire and Callum,’ I finished.

  Mum came to stand near me. She looked at me with a faraway look in her eye. Then she cupped my face in her hands, like she was holding a baby. ‘You’ll be great on a team, Alex,’ Mum said, smiling. ‘You’re good with people.’

  I let Mum kiss my forehead. Then I headed back inside feeling happy. Maybe I could do something special on the team, after all.

  The next week in P.E. class, all six teams stood in groups around the netball courts. It was time to decide who would play in each position.

  In netball, each player has a specific job to do – like shooting goals, or stopping the other team from getting goals.

  I didn’t think I would be good in any position. Unless ‘score keeper’ was one.

  Callum turned to face us. He clapped his hands like Mr Dwyer always does. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘I’m playing centre, and let�
��s see …’

  He scratched his head as he continued. ‘Mickey’s goal shooter, and Brad is goal defence –’

  But he didn’t get any further through the positions than that.

  ‘Hang on!’ Angie said, her arms crossed. ‘You’re not the boss, Callum.’

  ‘Yes I am. I’m captain,’ he said, standing tall and proud.

  Mickey did a joke salute, like he was in the army. Brad laughed, but Claire and Becky scowled with Angie.

  ‘We’re meant to work this out together,’ said Angie. Her dark eyes were flashing. It didn’t look like she was going to be bossed around by Callum.

  I like Angie. She’s strong, and nice. But I didn’t want her to start a fight. So I decided to speak up.

  ‘Well, why don’t we make Angie vice-captain?’ I suggested.

  The whole team looked at me. A netball flew past. But no-one moved. There was complete silence while everyone thought about my idea.

  ‘You both know heaps about sport,’ I said. ‘But this way, you can work together so no-one is the boss!’

  Angie’s eyes shone. Callum was nodding, as if he liked the idea. I sneaked a glance at Becky. I wasn’t sure if she’d feel jealous of Angie being vice-captain, with Callum as captain.

  But Becky was beaming. She looked proud of my idea. Before long, Callum and Angie had decided all the positions together – without any fighting.

  They picked me for wing defence. That was fine with me. From what I could tell, playing wing defence meant I had to run after the wing attack from the other team. And when they caught the ball I had to flap my arms a lot and try to stop them throwing it where they wanted.

  Maybe all that flapping was why they called it wing defence? Well, the idea gave me a giggle.

  ‘OK, let’s get to work,’ said Callum.

  He pulled a netball from a sack at the edge of the netball courts. Then he started spinning it on his finger like a basketball.

  My heart sank. A ball. I always look like an idiot around balls. Am I about to look silly in front of my friends?

  That first day of training, the netball really had a mind of it own. It was like a cheeky little gremlin.

  Each time I touched it, the ball would fly off the court, or go crazy and crooked. So annoying! But, to my relief, everyone was super nice to me.

  If I dropped the ball, someone would call out, ‘Never mind.’ And if I threw the ball crooked, someone else would call, ‘Good try, Alex.’ They didn’t make me feel bad at all.

  Once I even managed a solid catch, followed by a not-bad pass to Becky. When I did that, the whole gang clapped and cheered. Anyone watching would’ve thought I’d actually done something useful!

  It was brilliant seeing the sporty kids in action. The Basketball Girls were so cool to watch. One of them would throw the ball to no-one – just a gap. And I would think, hey, I’m not so bad. Other people throw the ball dumb places, too.

  But somehow the other one would charge into the gap. Like magic, she would always be there to catch the ball!

  The first time they did it, I thought it was just a fluke.

  But they kept doing it. Over and over. Even Callum and Mickey managed to do it sometimes.

  Those kids really know a lot about throwing and catching balls.

  By the time P.E. was over for the day, I realised something amazing. Even though I was still clumsy and awkward, it felt great to be part of a team. For the first time ever, I started to see what the sporty kids liked about sport.

  I even started looking forward to the tournament. It was going to be fun playing a real game with my team.

  Tooooot! Mr Dwyer blew the whistle and shook his head at Angie.

  She made a face and said ‘Drat!’ under her breath.

  ‘Never mind,’ Callum called to Angie. But he didn’t look happy.

  This was our first game for the tournament. And it wasn’t going well. Everything seemed to be going wrong. Angie and Claire had heaps of shots at the goal. But the ball hardly ever went in.

  Sometimes the ball would fly over the ring, as if aiming for a backboard that wasn’t there. Other times, one of us would break a rule, so the ball would be given to the other team.

  Not good at all.

  Of course, I was doing nothing special as I had expected.

  At first I thought that defence would be easy. Just a lot of arm-flapping and getting in the way. But good defenders actually stop the other team scoring. And really good defenders even steal the ball and get it to their own attackers.

  I knew all that by watching the other team. They were great. They kept stealing the ball from us and getting it to their shooter, super fast. Again and again.

  By half-time, we were ten goals behind. Our team stood in a huddle with red faces and drooping mouths. No-one was enjoying losing.

  ‘I wish we were playing basketball,’ said Claire, frowning.

  Callum nodded glumly.

  ‘Yeah, netball’s so – ’ Angie started to say.

  But she didn’t get any further, because I butted in. Claire had given me an idea.

  ‘What if we were playing basketball?’ I said quickly.

  The half-time break wasn’t very long. If we were going to play better, we had to think of something fast.

  ‘That’s the problem!’ groaned Callum.

  ‘But you don’t always win at basketball, do you?’ I said, my hands on my hips. ‘What happens when you’re losing a game of basketball?’

  Callum’s and Angie’s eyes met. I could see new ideas forming in their minds.

  ‘Well, our coach would make some changes,’ said Angie.

  She and Callum started talking quickly, their heads together, arms gesturing.

  After a while, they turned to the rest of the team with a new plan. Callum and Angie swapped some of our players around – Angie as centre, and Callum on defence with Mickey and me.

  Angie turned to me and smiled. ‘Alex,’ she said, ‘stick to your player like glue.’

  I nodded. Then Callum called to the team, ‘OK, let’s do it!’

  ‘YEAH!’ we all cried, and raced onto the court. We were pumped and keen to win.

  My player moved fast. My throat was dry from puffing. My cheeks were burning hot. But nothing could shake me off her. I was like superglue. Wherever she went, I went too.

  The changes Angie and Callum had made to our positions were working, and our team’s hope seemed to lift. Before I knew it, Claire had scored. Our team cheered as if we had won. Because now we thought we could win.

  Again we scored. And again. Suddenly it almost seemed easy. By three-quarter time, we were only six goals behind. The gap was closing.

  Soon we were only five goals down.

  With only a minute to go, we were two goals down. We had a chance to win!

  But the other team had the ball. They were about to score. Up went the ball, hovering on the side of the ring. But it didn’t fall in.

  It fell off the ring, straight into Callum’s hands. Our team cheered!

  I’m not sure what happened then. My player was running, trying to dodge me. I was being superglue. As my player ran into a gap, I heard Callum calling my name. ‘Aleeeeex!’

  This was it! The ball was flying towards me. I gulped and tried not to close my eyes. A thought flashed through my head.

  I have to catch this. I have to –

  But the ball didn’t touch my fingers.

  Like a cat leaping at a toy, my player plucked the ball from the air. I gasped – not just from surprise, but also because of what it meant.

  The ball, the game, everything was suddenly out of my hands.

  Before I knew it, the ball was falling through the other team’s goal. Oh no. That was my fault.

  With wide eyes I stared at Callum. Would he yell at me for losing the ball? Or worse, would he wish I wasn’t on the team?

  But Callum was already running back to his starting position. ‘Never mind, Alex,’ he called.

  Behind me Beck
y called out, ‘Good try, Alex.’

  No-one seemed to blame me for losing the ball. I kept my head down and kept playing. The rest of the team were acting as if we could still win. But there was no time to catch up.

  Our chance to win was gone.

  Mmmm … crunchy, salty, munchy, yummy peanut butter.

  The day after our first game, I sat on the office steps with the rest of the team, thinking about peanut butter.

  I eat crunchy peanut butter sandwiches for lunch every day. The only thing I like to change is the bread – white, multigrain. My favourite is rye. That was what I was eating that day.

  I was thinking a whole heap about peanut butter. But I wasn’t saying much. No-one was. Everyone was quiet and glum, disappointed about losing our first game of netball.

  Even Angie and Claire were sitting with us instead of playing basketball. For once, there was another game that they cared about more.

  I scrunched up the cling wrap from my sandwich and threw it down the office steps. I was aiming for a rubbish bin at the bottom. But just like a gremlin ball, the cling wrap didn’t do what I wanted.

  It curved up, seemed to float in the air for a second, then fell silently onto the bottom step. Why did I even bother!

  ‘Good try, Alex,’ said Becky with a small smile.

  Dunk … plop. Callum threw his empty drink box at the recycling bin. But it didn’t go in either. It bounced off the side and lay at the bottom of the steps. He sighed.

  Callum was taking our loss yesterday pretty hard.

  Normally I don’t care about losing at sport. I’m used to it! But I felt bad about losing the ball yesterday because I’d let the team down. I know how hard everyone had tried to win.

  By now, Angie had finished her lunch. She threw her paper bag at the bin. It sailed in with perfect aim. ‘Woo hoo,’ said Angie. But her voice sounded flat.

  I glanced past Claire at Angie’s sad face. Poor Angie. Poor team!