by Brett Lee
‘Well, I guess,’ I said, cautiously. My experiences of taking friends to faraway places weren’t all good. Rahul in India was the scariest: he’d paid me no attention at all, wanting to go off on his own. It was like he’d been possessed.
‘You don’t look so sure,’ she said, eyeing me closely.
‘Well, it’s just that—’
‘You think Georgie’d get a bit upset?’ Her voice had risen slightly. I looked around but nearly everyone had gone or was in their car about to leave.
‘You see, I took Rahul to the Tied Test—’
‘The Tied Test? Cool, that would have been exciting. Did you see the run-out?’
‘Run-out?’ I asked.
‘There’s that famous photo of the West Indian dude who did that amazing run-out,’ Ally said.
We were talking about different games. She was thinking about the Test match between Australia and the West Indies in 1960, played in Brisbane. It was another of Dad’s favourites. And he had that Wisden…
‘Toby?’
‘What?’ My mind had wandered. ‘Sorry?’
‘The Tied Test?’
‘Oh, yeah. Well, I took Rahul back to India. To 1986 and the game in Madras where Dean Jones made 210 runs and almost died doing it. But you know what? That Brisbane game’s a possibility,’ I said, nodding slowly.
‘Yeah?’
‘What are you doing this afternoon?’ I asked, helping her tip the mostly melted ice out of the Esky.
Ally shrugged. ‘Maybe going back to 1960 with you?’ she suggested, her face brightening. ‘Hang on!’ She jogged over to her car, had a few words with her dad and came back grinning. ‘We’re on! Dad’s gonna drop me around later. He’s got to go and pick up my brother. About three?’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘See you then.’
George Lohmann, playing for England against South Africa in 1896, managed these amazing bowling figures: 14.2 overs, 6 maidens and 9 wickets for 28 runs in Johannesburg; 9.4 overs, 5 maidens and 7 wickets for 8 runs in Port Elizabeth. He took 35 wickets in three Tests with a bowling average of 5.80! (That’s a wicket for every 5.8 runs scored off his bowling.)
5 All Tied Up
Saturday—afternoon
‘IT’S got to be cooler than this in Brisbane,’ Ally said, when I opened the door to greet her.
‘I forgot to mention about fashion and stuff,’ I said, letting her in.
‘Fashion?’
‘Shut the door, Tobes!’ Dad called. The heat outside was like that in a furnace and Dad must have felt the temperature rise a few degrees in the kitchen.
‘You know,’ I looked at her, ‘blending in. Not standing out in a crowd.’ I paused, then shouted into the living room. ‘Ally’s here!’ Dad was settled in watching the cricket on TV in the only airconditioned room in the house, while Mum and Nat were shopping in comfort down at the supermarket.
‘Hi, Ally,’ he called, as we headed for the stairs. ‘Are you guys coming in to watch?’
‘Nah, we’ll listen in on the Net.’ I signalled Ally to follow me upstairs.
Although Mum had closed my window and pulled down the blind, it was still hot in my room. ‘Maybe watching the cricket with Dad would be better,’ I suggested, suddenly nervous as I stood in the middle of my bedroom while Ally hovered at the door.
‘No way, stupid.’ She smiled. ‘We won’t be here, remember?’
‘That’s all very well until someone comes looking for us.’ I headed over to the bookshelf to find the 1962 Wisden.
‘So, we’ll just say we stepped outside for an icecream,’ Ally said, walking over to me. ‘Now what’s this about clothes?’
‘It probably doesn’t matter. We’ll just have a quick visit, okay?’ I thought back to India and Rahul’s dramatic behaviour when he ran off to see the brother he’d never met. And then pictured Jay, in Hobart, trying to tell a kid the result of the game and who’d win the AFL Grand Final the following year.
‘Ally, you’ve got to promise me one thing, okay?’
‘Of course, Toby. What is it?’ She looked at me expectantly.
‘The trouble is, it’s really easy now for you to say, “Sure, Toby. No worries.” But when we get there, it’ll all change.’
‘Toby, I’m a girl. I’m totally trustworthy. Don’t doubt me on this, okay? Now, what is it?’ She was looking at me challengingly. I shrugged. I knew how easily it could all go wrong.
‘Ally, when I say it’s time to go, we go straight away. Have you got that?’
‘Sure, Toby. No worries.’ She grinned.
‘Okay. Time will tell.’ I picked up the Wisden and offered it to her. ‘You’ll have to look for the section called “West Indians in Australia”. It’ll be towards the back.’
Ally flicked through the book. ‘Got it. Now, we want the First Test, yeah?’
‘Has Georgie told you about this?’ I asked. Ally seemed pretty confident with what she was doing.
‘A bit,’ she said. ‘Here we go: page 842. Wow! They’re fat books, hey?’ She looked up, smiling. She was so cool about it all.
‘Right. What you’ve got to do—’
‘I know. Find a date, place or score, hopefully one that’s near the end of the game.’ Ally muttered to herself, her head buried in the text. ‘Will any number do?’
‘I think so.’ I felt the familiar adrenalin and excitement surge through me with the thought of more time travel. Dad often spoke about this game; he’d only bought this particular edition of Wisden for this series and Richie Benaud’s Aussies reclaiming the Ashes from England in 1961. Dad said that both series were awesome, especially because there’d been heaps of boring cricket during the 1950s.
‘Ally, go to the scorecard. It’s easy to see all the scores there.’
She gently turned the page. ‘Ah, okay. So, Australia were batting at the end. Here you go.’
I followed her finger into the wash of numbers and letters spilling and swirling on the page.
‘Quick,’ I whispered, reaching out a hand as numbers appeared, then retreated again. ‘Which one?’ I breathed.
‘There. Look at one of those twos.’
Sure enough, a ‘2’ emerged from the mess and I latched onto it with all the concentration I could muster. A drop of sweat fell from my forehead and landed in the swirl beneath me. I felt the squeeze of Ally’s hand as I heard her gasp.
‘Two…two…’ I said over and over—and we were gone.
We ‘landed’ on a hill of grass, slightly away from the arena itself. I immediately sensed the tension in the crowd, although the number of people was amazingly small. Everyone’s attention was hooked on the drama unfolding out in the middle of the ground 80 metres away.
I turned to Ally. There was a look of wonder on her face. I wasn’t sure how she’d react, but she didn’t seem too fazed by the fact she’d just travelled back in time over 40 years, as well as more than a thousand kilometres north in the space of a few seconds. Perhaps Georgie had told her more than just a bit about the wonders of time travel. And she had taken a quick trip to 1930s England.
‘Ally?’
She turned to me, her smile dazzling, and with a squeal of delight she kissed me on the cheek. ‘Toby, this is brilliant,’ she gasped, clapping her hands as she took in the scene around her. ‘Let’s get closer and watch—’
‘Ally? Remember your promise?’
‘What promise?’
I groaned.
‘Kidding,’ she said, weaving a path towards the action.
‘There’s Richie Benaud,’ I whispered, awestruck with the thought that we were seeing Channel Nine’s master commentator batting.
‘What’s going to happen?’ Ally asked as we watched an enormously tall West Indian walk back to the top of his run-up.
‘I don’t know,’ I said pointedly.
Ally turned at the tone of my voice. ‘Oh yeah. Sorry,’ she said sheepishly, hunching her shoulders. She turned back to the cricket, and I checked the scoreboard. The Aussies we
re doing okay: Richie Benaud and Alan Davidson had added over 100 runs to the total and were going strong.
‘How much…’ Ally started. ‘No, it doesn’t matter. I’ll just shut up and enjoy the cricket.’
‘Good idea.’
We watched a couple of overs. The situation was getting more tense with every delivery. Davidson and Benaud had piled on a massive partnership and the crowd was sensing that something special was about to happen. From a hopeless 6 for 92, the two batsmen had steered the Aussies to 6 for 226. They were only seven runs short of pulling off a stunning turnaround.
But then disaster. There was a shout from the pitch.
‘He’s run out, Toby,’ Ally said. We watched Alan Davidson walk back towards the dressing room.
A man pushed past me, snacks in hand. ‘Bloody awesome, isn’t it, mate?’ he said, and then moved closer to the fence.
One over left and seven runs to win.
‘Okay, Ally. It’s time,’ I said, expecting some excuse from her. She didn’t move. ‘Ally?’ I said more firmly as we watched Alan Davidson walk back towards the dressing room. He’d just been run out by a direct hit from one of the West Indians. The people around us seemed shocked, but still confident.
‘Hmm, what’s that?’ she said, vaguely. She was enthralled, like everyone else.
‘I think it’s time.’
This time Ally turned to face me. ‘Toby,’ she said evenly. ‘I am in total control here…’
‘Ssh,’ I hissed, although no one seemed to be paying us the slightest attention.
‘…and we are about to see the most amazing over.’ There was a dreamy look on her face.
‘Ally?’
She turned her head from side to side, looking dazed.
‘Ally? What is it?’ I cried, alarmed, as she grabbed onto a post she had been leaning against.
‘Nothing,’ she sighed, shaking her head. She was looking behind her every few seconds. ‘Just feeling a bit in awe of what’s going on. One more over and then vamoosh, okay?’ There was sweat on her forehead, and her knuckles were white from gripping the pole.
‘Yep, okay. But relax.’
Gritting her teeth, Ally nodded, turning to look behind her.
I looked out to the ground. The West Indies were setting up for the last over. It was to be an eight-ball over, but three wickets going in the one over—as I knew was about to happen—was still incredible.
Australia was six runs from levelling the scores, and needed seven to win. Even though I knew the result I still felt the electric atmosphere of a close game. You often got this situation in a one-dayer, but in a Test match it was very rare for the teams to be so close after five days of cricket.
‘Who’s bowling?’ Ally asked.
I checked the scoreboard, even though I already knew the answer. ‘It’s Wes Hall. He’s the fastest bowler going around at the moment,’ I replied as I watched him charging in to bowl. The ball hit the Aussie batter high on the leg and they raced through for a single. The crowd roared in approval; they knew exactly what was required for victory.
Ally had her head down, one hand covering her eyes. ‘Toby? I think someone’s calling my name.’
It was the tone of her voice that told me it was definitely time to go. Something was really freaking her out.
‘C’mon, Ally,’ I said, unhooking her hands from the pole. For a moment it seemed like she wanted to pull away from me, but I hung on firmly.
Once more she turned, her mouth gaping as though she’d just seen a ghost.
What wonders abound, dear boy, don’t fear
These shimmering pages, never clear.
I quickly said the first two lines of the poem as I pushed through the spectators and into some space away from the crowd. I heard screams and groans, and I turned for one last look at the field. Richie Benaud had just been caught by the keeper, attempting a big hit.
When we arrived back in my bedroom, Ally thanked me, though she wasn’t as excited as she’d been before we left.
‘I told you weird things happen.’
‘Yeah, something strange was going on. But I’m glad I went.’
In 1972, Patrick Pocock took five wickets in six balls. He was playing for Surrey against Sussex in the English County Championships.
6 Georgie Snaps
Saturday—evening
‘I’M not sure that I’ve ever contemplated such a fine array of food, Jane,’ Jim said, beaming as he surveyed the plates in front of him.
A cool change had arrived and a fresh breeze was pushing the hot air out of the house. Dad had just walked in with a huge plate of chicken kebabs, hamburgers, prawns and lamb steaks, which he set down on the table alongside the rice salad, potato salad and about five other green salads.
For a while no one spoke as we all tucked in. Ally, Georgie, Rahul, Jimbo and Jay had all turned up to celebrate our semi-final victory. And to top it all off, Mum had even allowed Dad to manoeuvre the TV so that every now and again we could get a look at the one-dayer in Sydney.
‘We’re very glad you’re able to stay with us tonight, Jim,’ Mum said, smiling at him.
‘He could stay for ever,’ I interjected.
‘Well, it’s very kind of you to have me.’ Jim smiled.
I wanted to know about what had been happening at the MCC library but I wasn’t quite sure how to ask. Perhaps Jim sensed my curiosity.
‘It would appear that my time at the library is over, but when one door closes there’s sure to be another that opens somewhere.’
‘Why can’t you stay there?’ Jay blurted out, reaching for another kebab.
‘It’s called downsizing,’ Jim said. ‘Our friend Mr Smale…’
‘He’s no friend of anyone here,’ Jay said.
‘Jay, can Jim finish what he was going to say?’ Dad asked.
‘Sorry, Mr Jones.’ Jay looked a bit embarrassed.
‘Well, I was just going to say that David, the main librarian, and Phillip Smale are in the process of making a number of changes, and quite frankly I’m rather glad I’m not there.’
‘What sort of changes, Jim?’ Dad asked, looking up from his plate.
‘Well, bringing in the electronic age for a start. And he is removing all the significant works and older pieces. He’s concerned about their safety.’
‘Removing them to where?’ Georgie asked.
‘Away from the eyes of the public,’ Jim said sadly.
‘How dumb is that?’ I spluttered. ‘What’s the point of having fantastic old books and scorecards and photos and cricket bats and caps and stuff if people can’t see them?’
‘You might as well just bury them away in a vault,’ Jimbo said, shaking his head.
‘Exactly,’ Jim said.
‘It does sound rather odd,’ Mum commented. ‘What does everyone else at the library think?’
‘They are all somewhat swayed by Phillip Smale’s offering.’
‘Which is?’ Ally asked.
‘Which is, I’m told, the most significant and valuable collection of cricket memorabilia in the Southern Hemisphere.’
I noticed the sceptical look that passed between Dad and Jim.
Rahul let out a low whistle. ‘Wow!’ he gasped. ‘Really?’
‘Evidently,’ Jim said, though he didn’t sound convinced. ‘Though one would think that such a significant collection would have been known and already on display somewhere by now.’
We took dessert—a choice of chocolate-ripple cake, fruit salad or a waffle cone—back into the lounge to watch the rest of the cricket in comfort, but after about ten minutes it started raining in Sydney. As a fill-in, Channel Nine put on a replay of an old game. Dad always gets excited when this happens.
‘This is a cracker,’ he said. ‘This innings has got to include one of the best-ever one-day knocks. Do you know how many sixes Ricky Ponting hit?’
‘Dad, don’t spoil it,’ I begged. But he’d certainly got everyone interested; even Mum came in to have a look
.
‘You keep going in the kitchen,’ Dad chuckled to her. ‘I’ll tell you when Ponting’s innings starts.’
Mum tossed the tea towel in Dad’s general direction and sat down on the couch. But we only got about 15 minutes worth of highlights before Channel Nine switched back to the end of the live Sydney game. Still, it was great watching Adam Gilchrist and Matthew Hayden smashing the Indian attack all over the place.
Dad was really disappointed.
‘Well, I’m sure the game is available on DVD,’ Mum told him, heading back to the kitchen.
Dad got up to follow. ‘I guess so, though what I’d give to have been there to see that game,’ he said.
‘Maybe Toby…’
‘Jay!’ I snapped.
‘…could buy it for your birthday?’ he concluded lamely.
But luckily Dad hadn’t heard.
‘Why don’t you take your dad?’ Jimbo asked, as the guys and I headed for the door a little later. Some of their parents had arrived to pick them up.
‘Yeah. You’ve taken all of…’ Ally stopped short.
I looked over at Georgie, who raised an eyebrow then lashed out.
‘Well, Toby. Who else do you plan to take? Jimbo to Melbourne, Rahul to India, Jay to Tasmania, me to England. You’ve taken Jim and now Ally. Why don’t you take the whole team on a trip to—’
‘Why don’t you shut up?’ Jay snapped. ‘Toby can take who he likes.’
‘Toby can speak for himself too,’ she said, looking at me.
‘I took Ally ’cos she wanted to go. She seemed to know plenty about it anyway,’ I said defensively, staring at Georgie.
‘Hey, what’s the problem?’ Ally asked, throwing her hands up.
I walked to the door and opened it. Rahul’s dad was waiting.
‘Well, see you all tomorrow,’ Rahul said, escaping. ‘Thanks for the great night, Tobes.’
The others left soon after.
‘Sorry for snapping,’ Georgie said as the two of us headed back inside. ‘I did tell Ally about it. She deserved to go again. I’ll be honest with you; I was jealous…I guess I wanted this to be just our special secret, you and me!’
