The words Mr Bronsen kept hammering into us while we were batting played through my head as I faced up to Lurch.
Lurch’s first ball was short, way short.
I stepped back and smashed it into the fence on my leg side. It felt good to put bat on ball early.
The next one was also short – not as short, but still there to be hit. Same foot movement, same result. The third ball nearly bowled me. It looked to come out of Lurch just like the first two, but it was on me in a flash – a top-spinner coming in on my pads like a vicious snake. I jagged down with my bat. The ball scraped the inside edge and then flicked my pads.
Lurch tossed the next ball up, begging me to come down the pitch and hit it straight back. But after the ball before, my feet felt heavy and I just prodded it back, trying to make my forward defence look good. I didn’t dare sneak a look at Mr Bronsen, who was scoring, or at any of the other kids watching from the other side.
The next two balls were bang on line and I couldn’t do anything but play them with the respect they deserved.
The medium-paced deliveries were easier. If they were off the stumps I tried to hit them as hard as I could. I played a nice late cut on one, and a couple of pull shots with balls that were down the leg side. I remembered to roll my wrists over so the ball would stay down – not that it was easy to tell in the nets. I reckon Mr Bronsen could, though. Well, I hoped he could.
My best shot was a drive straight back past Lurch from a ball which was just short of a half-volley. I saw it early, put all my weight behind the shot and it raced just to the left of Lurch and away towards the trees on the other side of the oval.
‘You’ll be taking the fast balls?’ Miss Scott called out to me, as I adjusted my pads. I nodded back to her, settled over my bat and waited. The first ball flew past my off stump. I’d hardly had time to even raise my bat. I tried to stay positive. At least now I knew what to expect.
The next ball was on line, heading for the stumps. I stuck my front foot out in the general direction of the ball and heard the sweet sound of leather on wood. I looked up to see the ball thud straight into Lurch. There were a few claps and cheers from the kids watching. That made me feel better. I left the third ball alone, and tickled the fourth one around the corner behind me.
The fifth ball was short and heading for my ribs. Before I knew it, I was in position, back near my stumps, one foot in the air, and swiping the ball away into the nets on the on-side. The pace of the ball had helped the shot. I’m sure it would have gone for four in a normal game. It was probably one of the best shots I’d ever played. I snuck a look at Mr Bronsen, but I didn’t catch his eye.
Lurch’s last ball beat me completely. It flew over the stumps and thudded into the netting behind me. It seemed to come through heaps quicker than the five balls before it.
‘Mr Bronsen, you can’t let Luci face that last one,’ I whispered to him walking back to the kit.
‘I won’t be letting anyone face that last one, Mitchell.’ I must have looked a bit confused. ‘Except you, that is.’ He smiled and called up the next batter.
Luci did fine. She played defensively, especially with the last six deliveries, but she got her bat onto most of them, which was great. Compared to some of the other girls I saw, she was way ahead.
Fisk smashed and bashed his way through his 24 balls. I reckon Jack would have heard the crack of bat on ball from where he was on the other oval. It would be interesting to see how Mr Bronsen would score his batting. Fisk had a brilliant eye, but plenty of his shots were hit in the air. It was a matter of deciding whether the balls were hit well enough to score six, or whether he would have been caught in the outfield.
Still, it was impressive and Fisk had convinced most of the other kids that he’d creamed the batting section as well as the bowling. I would have loved to have been a fly, walking across Mr Bronsen’s clipboard.
Then again, can flies read?
The quiz was over, the skills sessions done. All that remained was the game. I still hadn’t totally worked out how points were going to be allocated. But I did know that the game was worth 40 per cent of our overall score towards winning the Legend of Cricket.
There was a crowd around the Legends noticeboard – a big crowd. I bustled my way in to see what was happening. Maybe yesterday’s scores would be up. I finally managed to squeeze past a couple of kids and, sure enough, there were the results of last week’s skills session. My mind was in a whirl as I scanned for my name.
‘Morning, Mitch. You pleased?’
‘Pleased?’
It was Bryce, calculator, pen and clipboard in hand, jotting away quietly, and bringing me back to earth.
I scanned the list of numbers in the batting section. My 102 was the highest score there – no one else had got into the hundreds. I looked for Fisk – 97. It was the next highest. He had a score of 85 in the bowling, while mine was 71. We were both pretty even in the fielding: 73 for Fisk and 74.5 for me. That was great. I’d scored well, but Fisk was ahead in the skills section overall.
Luci was right up there in the girls’ section with her scores, especially compared with the other girls, although Becky Tan looked like she was winning quite easily. She and Becky were the only girls to get into the 80s for batting. Mia wasn’t far behind, though.
There were still no results from the Quiz section, which was a bit strange. Maybe it took a lot longer to score.
The other new notice was the list of teams for today’s final session – the game. There were four teams. The kids with the highest scores from all the skills sessions had been put into the first two teams, and the rest in another game.
Fisk and I had a ‘c’ next to our names; we were to be the two captains. It seemed like a pretty even split of players. I didn’t think anyone could complain about the balance of the two teams.
Once again, Mr Bronsen spoke to us about the rules.
‘This final session is the most difficult to assess. We are not only looking at your bowling, batting and fielding, but also at how you respond to the various situations that this great game presents. All of you will bowl four overs and bat in pairs for eight overs. It’s a 32 over game. It is not most runs scored or most wickets taken that will determine who is most successful. While they are important, there are all sorts of other factors that will arise during the day. Oh, and remember, a wicket will cost your side ten runs and the batters change ends at the fall of any wicket.’
Mr Bronsen called the two captains over.
‘Now, Mitchell, Travis, there are opportunities for you both to display your knowledge of the game and your ability to lead a team. Take them.’
He pulled a coin from his pocket, looked at Travis, raised his eyes, and tossed it into the air.
‘Tails,’ called Fisk. I stuck my hand out but he was already turning away.
‘We’re batting,’ he called, then continued to shout instructions to his players.
It was a steady start – by everyone. Not many wickets and not many runs. I tried to encourage the fielders and made a point of shifting them depending on who was batting and where they seemed likely to hit the ball. By doing this, we managed to keep the run rate down. The danger was definitely going to be Fisk.
He was batting in the third pair. His team had scored 43 runs and lost three wickets, costing 30 runs, so their total was only thirteen. I knew the game was about to change, though.
Fisk blocked his first ball, then the second one. Things were looking good. The next ball was dug in a bit short. Fisk was inside it in a flash, belting it over mid-wicket for six.
The storm had arrived.
He dominated the strike for the next four overs, refusing to let his partner have a go. There wasn’t much Mr Bronsen could do.
I was called on to bowl, as I knew I would be – captain to captain.
I told Mr Bronsen I’d be bowling spin and rearranged the field. No slips. Basically, there was no one in close. And then I thought again. I brought in a short mid-
wicket and a short cover. Let Fisk see some gaps. Force him to hit there. Maybe I could tempt him to try and hit over these infielders and cause him to mishit the ball. The leg side was well covered and I had a guy out on the boundary line behind me for the slog back over the bowler.
I darted the first ball in fast at Fisk’s feet. He managed to get the toe of his bat onto the ball and squirt it around the corner behind him for a single. The next two balls were blocked by Fisk’s partner, Walt Belugo.
Fisk, stuck at the bowler’s end, was getting frustrated. Walt played the next ball gently into the covers. Fisk called him through for an impossible run. It wasn’t even Fisk’s call.
Poor Walt was struggling from the outset. Fisk was halfway down the wicket before Walt got going.
I raced back to the stumps, took the throw from Jack and knocked off the bails while Walt was still metres out of his ground.
‘Don’t worry about it, Belugo. Just be ready next time, okay?’ Fisk called out, as he looked around the field. Fisk had sacrificed ten runs just to get back on strike against me. For two balls. As for runs, his team didn’t lose out after all. Fisk smashed the next two balls for four and six.
Except for Travis, who scored an amazing 69 not out, we had done okay really. We’d taken only four wickets, but their team had scored 183 runs. Taking away the ten runs per wicket, our target was 144 runs to win. We would start the run chase after lunch.
We had lunch an hour before the rest of the school, so they could use their lunch hour to watch some of the game. Jack said a lot of the teachers let their classes out for the afternoon. It was a tradition. Plenty of parents were starting to turn up, too.
Mrs Waite, the school principal, made an announcement during our lunch break asking for all the cricketers to meet with her and Mr Bronsen in the AV room upstairs.
‘I have received a letter requesting that a gift be made to Mr Bronsen for his fine efforts in organising this year’s Legend of Cricket competition,’ she said.
There were claps and cheers. Even Fisk was clapping. Mr Bronsen was looking embarrassed. He had stopped spinning the match ball from one hand to the other.
‘Bryce Flavel, I believe you would like to say a few words,’ Mrs Waite continued.
I looked around at Bryce, who was getting to his feet. The door opened behind us as he moved to the front of the room.
‘Look who’s come for lunch,’ Jack whispered beside me.
It was Luci – with Bubba.
‘Hey, Bubba, where’d you spring from?’ I said.
Bryce started to speak. I knew something was up the minute I heard his first sentence.
‘Mr Bronsen’s cricket exam was a lot of fun, I think you’ll all agree. We got to see some fantastic and dramatic moments in cricket history. Well, we have cameras here at school too and I have some footage of an amazing moment in cricket. I think all of you today will find it interesting.’
I nudged Jack. He knew what was happening, too. I looked at Luci.
‘Let’s hope he takes the bait,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked her.
But she didn’t get a chance to reply. Bryce had inserted a USB flash drive into his laptop which he’d connected to a huge smart board.
‘I wonder if Donald Bradman might have been an even better batsman than he was had he had the opportunity, as we have, of using film to analyse his batting style,’ said Bryce.
I was looking at Fisk, watching his every move. For a while, he seemed unaware of what Bryce was doing. But suddenly, with Bryce’s next sentence, Fisk’s expression changed.
‘Take Liam, affectionately known as Bubba, over there.’
Everyone turned to look at Bubba.
‘Bubba always sets up a camera when he is practising with Lurch, sometimes two cameras. But always the wide angle so he can later watch the balls as they are –’ Bryce paused and turned to stare directly at Fisk, ‘– delivered or thrown to him.’
Fisk jumped out of his chair.
‘This is a stupid idea. Mr Bronsen doesn’t want some dumb film of Liam Dialopolous batting in the nets.’
‘Let’s ask Mr Bronsen, shall we?’ suggested Mrs Waite.
‘I think I’d very much like to see the footage, especially as Bubba has missed out on so much cricket because of his – accident.’ Mr Bronsen had paused on the last word.
‘Well, I didn’t mean to hit him. Just frighten him. Let him know who’s boss around here, as far as cricket goes. He was supposed to hit it. I didn’t know–’
Everyone was staring at Fisk. I smiled and nudged Bubba. He was staring at Bryce with a look of total admiration.
‘If I could just finish,’ said Bryce. ‘Bubba is the best batsman at school. I was only using his name to compare him with Sir Donald Bradman – the greatest batsman ever for Australia.’ Bryce clicked a few more buttons then sat down.
‘Ah, Bryce, I’m not sure after all that this needs to be a public airing of your footage,’ commented Mr Bronsen.
But the film had already started. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. I was expecting to see Lurch, Bubba and Fisk in the nets at school. But instead, there was the great Don Bradman, in black-and-white footage, stepping out and elegantly driving what looked like a pretty good ball out through the covers for four.
I couldn’t believe it. Mr Bronsen was smiling. Even Mrs Waite seemed impressed.
‘I hope you enjoy the footage, Mr Bronsen. And thank you from all of us for a great cricket competition,’ said Bryce.
Again there were cheers and clapping. This time, though, Fisk wasn’t joining in.
‘Guess you spoke too soon there,’ Luci said quietly to Fisk as we walked past him. Fisk looked at her, but didn’t say anything.
‘He deserved it,’ said Luci as we walked back to the ovals.
‘You don’t like him, do you?’ I said. She looked at me and was about to say something, but seemed to change her mind. ‘I’ll explain. One day.’
I left it at that for now, though I hoped that one day I’d find out what was going on between them.
We were in real strife. We’d lost three wickets in our first eight overs. Fisk was bowling as if his life depended on it. Bryce hadn’t anticipated all the consequences of his lunchtime gamble. Fisk was in a mood. A bad mood. And he was letting it out on the batsmen.
After half the overs, we had scored only seventeen runs. Well, okay, really 57, but taking off ten runs for each wicket meant that we were actually on seventeen.
Knowing that I was due to come in as part of the last pair, with Chaz Green, Fisk kept his last two overs back until the end. Even if Fisk was disqualified from being the Legend of Cricket, I still wanted to beat him as a cricketer. I wanted to score more points than him. But with him scoring 69 not out, and already getting three wickets in two overs, I needed a miracle.
When it was finally my turn to bat, we had eight overs left and needed to score a whopping – virtually impossible – 87 runs, assuming we didn’t lose any wickets.
By now the other game had finished. Luci and the rest of the players had come over to watch the last hour. Most of the classes had also arrived by now, out to enjoy the sunshine and see the best players in the school do their stuff.
The first over I faced was fairly accurate, but if I moved my feet quickly the bowler was slow enough to put away. I managed a couple of fours and a single off the last ball.
This meant I was facing Fisk next over.
Fisk had the ball and was rubbing it up and down his pants, trying to get as much shine as he could. He spat on it, then rubbed again. All the fielders were in close, except a fine leg and third man – the two main positions behind the batsman.
I took guard from Mr Bronsen, scratched a few lines in front of my middle stump and waited. Fisk steamed in. No prospect of a warm-up ball with Fisk bowling. He dug it in short – as I was half expecting. Leaning back, I flicked it over slips for a single down to the third man fielder.
‘You won’t win
it in singles, loser.’
Fisk eyeballed me as he walked past, brushing against me.
His next ball was one of the most vicious balls possible. It didn’t even hit the pitch. It just followed Chaz like a guided missile. It caught him somewhere on the chest. He went down like an empty sack.
Everyone, except Fisk, rushed in to help him. Chaz looked crook – really crook. He’d gone white and seemed disoriented. Mr Bronsen helped him from the field.
After asking Mr Spears to attend to Chaz, Mr Bronsen called Fisk over and spoke to him. Fisk was gesturing with his arms, probably telling Mr Bronsen that the ball had slipped or something. I wasn’t convinced. Then Mr Bronsen called me over.
‘Okay Mitchell, you’re probably not familiar with the rules, but obviously Chaz cannot continue batting. You are able to choose a player from the other game that’s just finished. Off you go and find someone.’
Chaz looked okay. A bit shaken, but he was walking slowly from the ground without too much help. Maybe he was happy to get away from Fisk. Who would want to face Fisk, especially in the dangerous mood he was in?
‘I think I might have a partner for you,’ said Bryce, jogging up to me. ‘We just need to convince his mum.’
We walked over to where Bubba was sitting with his mum. Luci and Becky were also there.
‘Hiya, Bubba. I need you. Big time. Like now,’ I said to him, taking the direct approach.
Bubba was off his seat like a shot.
‘Liam, sit down. You are not playing cricket.’ Bubba’s mum looked determined.
‘Mrs D, Mitchell needs Liam. His team needs him. The whole school needs him. He’s the best batsman in the school. This is his passion. This is his game. You’ve got to let him play – just a few overs.’ Luci was giving it to her beautifully.
‘Please, Mrs D,’ I chimed in.
‘No.’
It wasn’t working.
‘Mum, I’m going to play. There is one thing I’m good at in this school.’ Bubba stormed off.
Against the Spin Page 4
