ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Attending a conference called Getting Reluctant Readers Reading, Michael Panckridge skipped lunch to sit in the old commentary box at Victoria Park, where he was inspired to write stories for kids who were as keen on sports as he had been when growing up. Fifteen years on, Michael is the author of over 35 books, selling more than 250,000 copies. As well as sports books such as the Legends series, he also writes action-packed thrillers and suspenseful mysteries. When he’s not teaching or writing, Michael enjoys watching sport, reading, and running.
Also by Michael Panckridge
Chasing the Break
The Toby Jones series
The League of Legends series
The Clued Up series
The Cursed
The Vanishings
The Immortal
The Book of Gabrielle
Be Bully Free
Thanks to Paul Collins and the talented team at Ford Street Publishing for believing in the Legends and bringing it alive for a new generation of readers. Thanks also to Marita Seaton for her artistic talents in designing the wonderful covers and illustrations for the series.
Published by Ford Street Publishing, an imprint of
Hybrid Publishers, PO Box 52, Ormond VIC 3204
Melbourne Victoria Australia
© Michael Panckridge 2016
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
This publication is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process without prior written permission from the publisher. Requests and enquiries concerning reproduction should be addressed to
Ford Street Publishing Pty Ltd
162 Hoddle Street, Abbotsford, Vic 3067.
Ford Street website: www.fordstreetpublishing.com
First published in 2003 by BDB. This edition has been revised.
Creator: Panckridge, Michael, 1962- author.
Title: Against the spin / Michael Panckridge.
eISBN: 9781925804096
Target Audience: For primary school age.
Subjects: Cricket--Juvenile fiction.
Dewey Number: A823.4
Cover design and interior illustrations: Marita Seaton ©
Interior design: Grant Gittus Graphics
In-house editor: Tim Harris
Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1 Into the Fire
Chapter 2 A Huge Rescue
Chapter 3 Just Awesome
Chapter 4 Cop This!
Chapter 5 A Crowd Gathers
Chapter 6 Longest Throw
Chapter 7 Testing Times
Chapter 8 Fisk, the Machine
Chapter 9 Skilled
Chapter 10 Lurch
Chapter 11 Captain to Captain
Chapter 12 An Interesting Lunch
Chapter 13 The Legend Returns
Chapter 14 Down to the Wire
Chapter 15 The Legends of Cricket
The Game
The Scorecard
Legend of Cricket Results
Legend of Sport – Boys Points Table
Legend of Sport – Girls Points Table
The Cricket Quiz
The Cricket Quiz Answers
Event Dates
Surfing
February
Cricket
March
Tennis
April
Football
June
Soccer
July
Basketball
August
Athletics
October
Swimming
November
Scoring
1st
5 points
2nd
4 points
3rd
3 points
4th
2 points
5th
1 point
Structure
Each sport has a teacher in charge. Generally, there will be three types of testing to determine the Legend for each sport.
The percentage for each session is approximate only. The teacher in charge will decide the final balance of scoring.
A skills-based session
30%
A knowledge session
20%
A game session
50%
Practice
All participants in a Legend event will have the opportunity to practise on Wednesday afternoons from 1:00 pm till 5:00 pm. During this time, Legend participants will be able to use the library. Sports staff and sports venues will also be available on request. It is the responsibility of the student to book venues, equipment and other materials. Normal sports training will continue for all students on the appropriate afternoons.
The Legends Noticeboard
The noticeboard outside the gym should be constantly checked for updates. It is the student’s responsibility to do this. The Teacher in Charge for the Legends of Cricket is Mr Bronsen.
It’s official. Mitchell Grady is a Legend – a Legend of the Surf. Back at school now, the quest to be crowned the Sandhurst Legend of Sport continues. The trophy is awarded to the boy and girl who are the most outstanding achievers in each of the eight sports held at Sandhurst during the school year. The second sport in the Sandhurst Legend of Sport series is cricket.
Mitchell Grady, new to the school, is challenging Travis Fisk, his powerful and not so friendly rival who will do anything it takes to be the Legend.
Mitchell, along with his good friends Jack (also very keen on sport), Bubba (big, happy and talented in some areas) and Bryce (non-sporty but extremely brainy), will do his very best to deny Travis Fisk any opportunities to win.
With a piece of amazing timing, Bubba does just that – but in doing so sets himself up as Fisk’s next target.
In the girls’ section, Luci Rankin does battle with Mia. Mia is sporty and popular and keen to put Luci in her proper place – second.
Luci and Mitchell seem to be getting along. But what is the grudge that Luci has against Travis Fisk?
Mr Bronsen said cricket was a game you had to live and breathe. At first, I didn’t get that. But I was beginning to understand. It meant having a cricket ball in your hands – all the time. It meant reading about the Australian cricket team – past and present. It meant listening to the experts and watching the game whenever you got the chance. And, of course, it meant playing. It also meant lying in bed at night dreaming of walking out to play for your country.
‘Hey, kid, can you bat?’
Someone was shouting. I looked over to where the voice was coming from.
‘Yeah, you. Get over here,’ said the voice. It belonged to a tall guy with long hair, a shaggy beard and tatts on his arm. He was tossing a ball into the air and catching it.
I was doing what Mr Bronsen, the teacher in charge of cricket, had suggested. I had a ball in one hand, a cricket mag in the other. I had my whites on (I was wearing them in!) and was hanging out watching a local team playing at the reserve a few blocks from home.
I walked over to the group of players scattered amongst fold-out chairs and cars parked under a line of gum trees.
‘Do you wanna hit?’
‘Um, yeah, sure,’ I stammered.
‘What are ya like?’
‘Okay, I suppose.’
‘Well, where do you bat?’ The tall guy was doing all the talking. ‘What possie?’
‘Oh, around the middle, you know.’
‘Yeah, well you can’t be worse than Hudson or Johnno. Put the pads on. You’re in after Mick.’
‘When’s Mick – ’
There was a shout from the pitch. ‘Mick’s just gone out. You�
��re in, now!’
‘Here, I’ll give you a hand. I’m Johnno.’
A kid wearing a huge floppy hat was helping me with a pair of pads.
‘Right or left?’
‘What?’
‘What do you bat, right or left?’
‘Left.’
A few minutes ago I was minding my own business with my cricket ball and my mag, strolling around the ground. And now I’m walking out to bat against kids way bigger and older, and by the look of the run-up of the bowler, way faster too.
The first two balls flashed past me, missing everything. The next ball hit the edge of the oversized bat I was pretending to feel okay with, speeding away through slips for four. There was a cheer from the boundary line.
The other batsman, Caleb someone, told me that six wickets were down and the score was about 90. And there were only two batters after us to come, both totally useless.
‘Just hang in there, okay? We’ll take it one over at a time.’
‘Are we chasing a target?’ I asked.
‘Yep. I’ll tell you later.’
Caleb was great. He was the opening batter. He had a good defence but really went for it if the ball was wide. Trouble was, they were pretty good bowlers. He said that we were a chance if we could see off the opening bowlers, who had both just come back for a second spell.
He took most of the strike. But I was getting more confident and when they replaced one of their opening bowlers, I was actually wanting to get a bit of the strike myself. I knew I could hang around but also score a bit.
My moment came. The bowler was slower and bowled pretty straight, without much movement.
I got a half-volley and cracked it past mid-off and out to the boundary line for four. Next ball was another half-volley and I did the same. I expected a bouncer for the next, and sure enough, there it was. But I was ready. I swung into the shot with all the power I could, sending it sailing over backward square leg for six. The bat was heavy but had plenty of power.
I snuck a look at the cheering group that had gathered on the boundary. They were looking excited. Caleb was nodding in approval too.
The next ball was short and wide outside off. I slashed at it and it arced over the slips area and down to the witches’ hats for another boundary. Caleb wandered down.
‘Take a few deep breaths. Don’t get carried away.’
But I was in another world. It was me and the bowler. He was looking really annoyed. He steamed in and aimed another bouncer at my body. This time I ducked underneath it. I slapped his last ball out through point for a couple more. Twenty off the over. I couldn’t wait to tell Jack and Bubba on Monday.
One of our team raced out with a drink.
‘We need 34 off three,’ he panted, ‘which is heaps better than 54 off four.’ He was grinning at me.
But then – disaster.
I called Caleb through for a quick single, wanting to get back on strike, but he never had a chance, and was run out at the bowler’s end.
I felt terrible. He was going to walk right past me. He looked at me and shrugged. ‘It’s up to you now. Who are you anyway?’
‘Mitchell,’ I replied. ‘Mitchell Grady.’
‘Well, Mitchell, just take each ball as it comes and deal with it accordingly, okay?’
‘Yeah. Sorry,’ I called.
‘You will be if we lose,’ he replied, but he was smiling – I think.
The kid called Hudson had come out.
‘Mate, I can bowl fast, but I’m totally useless at batting. You’ve gotta take all the strike, right?’
‘Right,’ I said, determined to make up for running out Caleb.
I managed to score two fours, but I couldn’t score off the last ball. This meant Hudson would be facing, and worse, they had brought back their other opening bowler.
‘C’mon, Joey, finish them off,’ called the keeper, as the bowler raced in.
His first ball smashed into the stumps, spreading them everywhere. Hudson out for a golden duck. I wandered back to meet our last batter, the kid called Johnno.
‘Jeez, and I’m way worse than Hudson,’ he mumbled.
‘Listen,’ I said. ‘Step forward, keep your bat close to your pad and block it out, right?’
‘Yeah, right.’
I reckon Johnno did the total opposite. He stepped away and before his bat had even started to come down, the ball had thumped into the base of the stumps.
Turning around, I headed for the boundary. It had been good while it lasted but I had lost the game by running out Caleb. The runs I’d made meant nothing.
The opposition were high fiving and clapping.
But then I heard one of the fielders nearby say, ‘Hey, what’s going on?’
I looked up. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Bubba was walking out to bat. The pads he was wearing were up past his thighs, his helmet was crooked and his batting gloves were a mixed pair, but there was the unmistakable Bubba grin.
‘Hi ya, Mitchell. Your mum said you were down here, but she never said anything about you playing. What’s the score anyway?’
‘Bubba, we can win it. We’ve got to score 26 but there’s only one-and-a-bit overs left. I reckon–’
But Bubba had heard all he needed and was heading down to the batter’s end.
I had seen Bubba in the nets and at centre wicket and he was an awesome sight, especially if he got angry. He didn’t often get angry, but there was one thing that really stirred him – being called names. And the chatty little keeper was letting him have it.
‘Hey, Fatso. You better do this in boundaries ’cause you’re never gonna be able to run ’em.’ The players around him, who had got back to their positions, sniggered.
‘Okay boys, one more wicket then. Let’s make this a hat-trick for Joey.’
The fielders crowded in around Bubba. The bowler, Joey, raced in and let fly. A split second later, the ball was flying back past the bowler’s head. The umpire and I went diving for cover. Another couple of seconds and the ball was crashing into a gum tree, hitting it so hard that it bounced back onto the oval and halfway towards the pitch. For a kid so big, Bubba’s reflexes were amazing.
The next ball was a bouncer. Bubba was inside it in a flash, belting it way over square leg for six.
There was no talk going on now. Their captain was moving fielders everywhere – especially over to the on side – the side where Bubba had just belted the last ball.
So, for the next ball, Bubba stepped away to the leg side and hoisted it way over covers for another four.
Bubba’s last shot was his best. Joey bowled a good slow ball and, for a moment, it looked like Bubba had misread it and he was going to get clean bowled.
But it was like he’d had a warm-up swing first. He carved through the ball, and sent it high over wide mid-on for another six runs. The grin hadn’t left his face.
‘Hey, Mitchell, your dad was doing Mexican and stuff for dinner. You always have Mexican for dinner? You reckon I–’
‘Bubbaman. There’s one over to go.’
‘Yeah, I know, so maybe later we–’
‘Just listen for the calls, okay?’
‘Okay, Mitch.’
The opposition team was in a panic. There were shouts and clapping from the boundary and people had got out of their cars and gathered around the team near the fold-out chairs.
All the fielders except two were back on the boundary. I smacked the first ball out to mid-wicket and set off, aiming for two. But one look at Bubba, sauntering down in a half-walk, half-jog told me there was only going to be one run in it.
Five balls left and five runs to win. Bubba played the next one calmly back up the pitch. There were groans from the crowd. The fielders were getting confident again. Four balls to go. And then Bubba left the next ball, and it passed through to the keeper.
I went down to talk to him.
‘Bubba, c’mon man. We need five runs to win. What are you doing?’
‘Just waiting for t
he right ball, Mitch.’
‘Well, don’t wait too long.’
Three balls left. Bubba whacked the next ball straight into the square leg umpire. It rebounded and we stole another single.
The umpire, rubbing his leg, hobbled around cursing. Nobody paid him much attention.
Now it was really tight. Two balls to go and we needed four to win. I looked around. The fielders were being brought in close. There weren’t many easy singles now. The next ball was really wide. I swung at it and it caught the bottom edge of my bat and thumped into my pads.
There was a scream from about ten metres away and I looked up to see Bubba hurtling down the pitch towards me like a steam train. I set off like a startled rabbit and scrambled into the crease at the other end. I’d never seen Bubba run with such energy.
Last ball. Three runs to win. Two runs would tie the scores. The bowler took his time with the field, trying to unsettle Bubba. But Bubba didn’t seem to be paying any attention.
The ball came fast and swinging. Aimed at off stump and gently moving away. It was a beauty. It would have troubled most good batters. But not Bubba. Taking a half step back, he launched forward and swung with all his might straight through the line. The ball flew up into the air and sailed over mid-off. Higher and higher, like a vanishing bird, it soared away over the screaming, dancing team and supporters. It eventually crashed through some gum tree branches and landed in a little cloud of dust on the dirt road adjacent to the next oval.
Even Bubba seemed impressed by the shot. ‘I reckon that last shot’s gotta be worth at least two bonus tacos, Mitchell,’ he said.
‘Okay, Bubba, let’s talk Mexican,’ I said.
We walked off to cheers and shouts from the little crowd that had gathered close around the chairs. Johnno raced over with the match ball.
‘Here, big fella. Keep it. That was fantastic.’
Looking super pleased with himself, Bubba slipped the ball into his pocket.
It was two weeks after the Legend of the Surf competition and already the school was in a cricket frenzy. Jack and Bubba had warned me, but I never dreamed it would be this full on. It was awesome!
Against the Spin Page 1
