Glenn Maxwell 4

by Patrick Loughlin

  Will had been the first to congratulate him.

  ‘Awesome job,’ said Will.

  Toby grinned. ‘Thanks, Will,’ he said, and Will knew the rivalry was over.

  After the first hour of celebrations on the bus, the exhausted boys drifted off to sleep. But not Will. Will just stared out the window, watching the sky grow dark around them. He couldn’t stop thinking about the final.

  In just three days they would be playing for the T20 Youth World Cup. It would most likely be against England, although he was yet to hear the result of the other semifinal. He was starting to think that they could actually do it. They had great players and they were finally playing as a team. They could win. They should win …

  Then he remembered their game against Sri Lanka and a cold shiver slid through him like a snake.

  NO TIME FOR LOVE

  ‘So … are you nervous?’ asked Zoe.

  Will nodded. ‘Of course. You?’

  Zoe shrugged and rolled the ball along the ground for Will to run and collect. He got to the ball quickly and threw it at the portable stumps for a direct hit.

  It was the morning of the final and the three Australian teams had arrived early at The Oval in South London for some warm-up training before the game. The junior girls were scheduled to play first, followed by the junior boys then the seniors.

  Will rolled the ball back along the grass for Zoe.

  It was the first time Will and Zoe had trained together in a while and it was the first time Will had seen Zoe look worried about playing. She usually looked like the ice queen when it came to game day.

  Will was nervous, too. He could already feel a fluttering in his stomach. It was that slightly sick feeling he got before big matches – and there was none bigger than today’s.

  Zoe ran after the ball and fired it at the stumps. She missed by a mile.

  ‘Zoe, are you okay?’ he asked as they moved onto some catching drills.

  ‘Of course, why?’ she replied quickly.

  ‘You know, it’s all right if you are nervous. You’re supposed to be.’

  ‘I’m not. I don’t get nervous, remember? … That’s what everyone thinks, anyway.’

  ‘Who cares what everyone thinks,’ said Will.

  ‘It’s not that, it’s just …’ She was about to throw the ball back to Will but she stopped and looked at him. ‘Everyone expects us to win today and they expect me to win the game for us.’

  ‘Okay …’ said Will slowly, trying to understand.

  ‘What if we don’t? What if I don’t?’ she said and Will realised she felt just like he did. She wasn’t some invincible ice queen. She was just a kid with the weight of expectation on her shoulders.

  ‘Well, if you don’t,’ said Will in a solemn tone, ‘then I guess you’ll be … a loser.’

  Zoe’s eyes went wide for a moment then Will laughed.

  Zoe launched the cricket ball at him, hard.

  ‘Jerk!’ she said, then she laughed as well.

  ‘But seriously,’ said Will, ‘whatever happens – win or lose – when it’s all over, I’ll shout you a slushie.’

  ‘Blue?’ she asked, her eyes glistening and her mouth poised in a half-smile that reminded Will that she had once kissed his cheek with those lips. Will realised all at once that more than anything he wanted to kiss her back. But this wasn’t the time. Instead, he just nodded.

  ‘Okay, stop the warm-ups for a moment, gang,’ called Jack, shaking Will back from his thoughts. ‘We’ve got some people here who want to wish you all good luck today.’

  One of the junior girls screamed. Or maybe it was Shavil.

  Walking out onto The Oval was the entire Australian squad. Will couldn’t believe it! All his Australian heroes were walking towards him – including, of course, Glenn Maxwell. Soon the Aussie players were mingling with the junior and senior T20 squads and chatting happily. Maxi walked over to Will and nodded hello.

  ‘Hey Maxi,’ said Will, beaming.

  ‘How’s the captaincy going, Will?’ asked Glenn with a knowing grin. ‘Been using those tips I gave you at The Rose Bowl?’

  ‘Good and yeah … sort of,’ said Will. He wanted to tell Maxi everything that had happened but he couldn’t put it into words.

  ‘Yeah?’ asked Glenn.

  ‘Well, I’ve been trying to be more bold but I realised something else, too …’ said Will, thinking about Zoe and Toby and everything that had happened since they’d arrived in England.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Glenn, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

  ‘It’s not all up to me. We’re a team. We’re a really good team. It’s up to all of us to play together and win together.’

  Glenn looked at him for a moment then grinned. ‘That’s pretty smart. Are you sure you’re only a junior?’

  Will nodded.

  ‘Well, it beats any advice I was going to give you,’ said Glenn. ‘Good luck, Will. You’re gonna do great.’

  Will watched the coin fly through the air and land at his feet on the grass. The umpire bent over and inspected it.

  Please, please, please …

  ‘Heads,’ announced the umpire.

  YES!

  ‘We’ll bat first,’ said Will brightly. But his brightness dimmed when he looked around at The Oval’s massive stands and all he could see and hear were English fans singing and chanting and blowing trumpets. Many of them were school-age kids who had been given free tickets to the final. They were like a young but equally rowdy version of the Barmy Army.

  It became even more obvious that the crowd was not here to support the Aussie team when Shavil and Toby walked out to face the first over of the innings and the crowd booed. Things got worse when the first over began. Clapping and chanting preceded each ball and when the English bowler, a tall, hulky boy who looked much older than fourteen, bowled a dot ball, the crowd went wild.

  When, however, Shavil played a perfectly timed pull shot off the last ball of the over and it streaked away to the boundary rope, the crowd quietened down.

  ‘That’s more like it,’ said Jack, who seemed to be as on edge as Will felt. Jack had been very vocal during the junior girls’ match, cheering loudly and calling out words of encouragement as the girls swept to victory. Zoe, especially, had played amazingly. Despite her doubt before the game, she had been as cool as ever out in the field against South Africa. It turned into their closest game since arriving in England and the South African girls had been a tough opposition, but after posting a big first-innings total, the Australian bowlers eventually got on top, bowling out South Africa and claiming the T20 Youth World Cup trophy by 35 runs in the eighteenth over.

  Now it was the boys’ turn and Will could feel his stomach churning. But all he could do was watch and wait, and hope that the openers did their job.

  JAWS OF DEFEAT

  It was Toby who got out first this time. It was just a great ball that trapped him LBW right in front of middle stump. There was nothing he could do except drop his head and walk. Brock – his replacement – was next out, run out by a direct hit at the bowler’s end as he and Shavil tried to steal a quick single. The throw was a brilliant piece of fielding by the English team who were making it clear early that they meant business.

  When Will walked out to the centre, the roar of the English in the crowd was deafening. It was the roar of a crowd that wanted blood.

  ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ joked Shavil, when they met in the middle for a quick team conference.

  ‘Two for 22. We’re in trouble,’ said Will.

  ‘What?’ called Shavil. ‘I wish this crowd would shut up. I can’t hear a word you’re saying.’

  ‘We have to shut them up,’ said Will.

  ‘Yeah, but how?’

  Will thought for a moment. ‘We just have to go for it. Play our shots and find the boundaries. If we start playing defensively we’ve got no chance of posting a score that we can win with.’

  ‘So that really is the game plan?’ aske
d Shavil. ‘Hit big and don’t get out?’

  ‘Well, we may get out but we need to grab as many runs as we can first. Better to go down swinging than to fumble around out here for ones and twos and let them cruise their way to victory.’

  ‘Anything else?’ asked Shavil.

  ‘Yeah. Be smart but be bold,’ said Will dramatically.

  ‘Sorry, did you say be bald?’

  ‘BOLD!’ repeated Will.

  ‘Oh good, ’cause I’m not planning to lose my hair till I’m at least 80,’ said Shavil, giggling. He didn’t seem the least bit nervous about the match.

  They punched gloves and Will took up the crease.

  This is it, he thought. Crunch time. Are we good enough?

  It started as a trickle at first, with a few twos and threes. But every so often Will or Shavil would pick out the loose ball and guide it through the gap for four.

  Then the flood began.

  Will decided to target the big bulky kid, whose second over had been less accurate than the first. When he was brought back into the attack to bowl his third, Will was waiting. He danced daringly down the pitch and lifted the half-volley high into the air. It disappeared down the ground and even the umpire had to squint to see where it had ended up before raising his arm to signal six. That was when the crowd went silent. The next ball went the same way. Then the big English bowler tried to entice Will on the off side with an outswinger, but it was slow and wide and Will dropped his knee and reverse swept over the short boundary at point. Another six.

  In the next over, Shavil followed Will’s lead and began to cut loose – in a Shavil kind of way. He played safe along the ground but somehow kept finding the gaps in the field. Will could tell that the English captain was getting worried. He was pushing players back then bringing them in or across or back again, every time Shavil found the rope. But each time they plugged a gap on the on side, Shavil would just pierce through one on the off side until there were more holes in the English defence than in a slice of Swiss cheese.

  The only noise in the crowd now was from the few Australian fans in the stands and, of course, from the three Australian teams that had come to watch them play. Finally, just when Will felt like they were getting the upper hand, he got caught at deep mid-wicket. As Will departed the pitch for 56 off 29 balls, the English team actually joined the Australians in the crowd to applaud his effort.

  ‘Let’s keep it going,’ Will said to Cooper, who was making his way to the crease.

  He wasn’t happy with the last shot he’d played, but he knew he had done his best and given his team a chance. It was up to the others now.

  ‘Well, Will, what do you want to do?’ asked Hayden.

  Will’s mind raced. Half the team was huddled around him, waiting. He had to make a decision and he only had a few seconds to make it.

  England had batted well to chase down most of Australia’s 165 runs, though the Australian team had pegged back the English at crucial times and conjured wickets out of thin air. There had been Brock’s incredible one-handed dive on the boundary to take the catch and stop a certain four, and Will had made an amazing reflex grab and throw from short leg that had knocked out middle stump before the batsman had even turned around. Now England needed just ten off the last over with two wickets in hand. Australia was staring deep into the jaws of defeat and it all came down to one last decision …

  Who would bowl the final over?

  Darren, Joey and Danny had already bowled their maximum four overs. Justin and Will had bowled three and Dylan, who had been smashed all around the park on his first over, had bowled just one. Obviously Dylan would not be bowling the final over, and after his last performance against Sri Lanka, Will wasn’t sure he should either.

  It’s okay, Will thought. Being the captain doesn’t mean that I have to do everything. We play as a team. Justin can bowl the final over.

  Will was just about to throw him the ball when Justin shook his head. His eyes said it all. He couldn’t do it. The pressure was too much.

  There was only one thing for Will to do. He took a deep breath.

  ‘I’ll bowl it,’ Will said. No one argued. ‘But if I bowl this over,’ he added, looking into the face of each boy standing around him, ‘I need to know that you’re all with me.’

  He held up the cricket ball. ‘This is the World Cup, boys. Catch it, chase it, stop it, throw it. But do not let it pass that rope. Okay?’

  The boys nodded.

  ‘Okay?’ Will repeated.

  ‘Okay!’ they shouted back.

  ‘Then let’s go win the World Cup!’ he yelled.

  WORLD CLASS

  ‘You’re really watching Spiderman again?’ asked Will as he and Shavil settled into their seats for the long flight home.

  ‘Of course. It’s brilliant!’ said Shavil.

  ‘But you just watched it on the way here!’

  ‘Yeah, but I haven’t ever watched it flying back to Australia,’ said Shavil, slipping on his headphones.

  Will rolled his eyes, buckled his seatbelt and sighed. He looked over at Darren at the end of the row. Once again he looked terrified at the prospect of being airborne.

  Darren must have sensed something because he turned and looked at Will.

  ‘Still thinking about that last over, aren’t you?’ asked Darren.

  Will shrugged. ‘It’s hard not to.’

  Darren nodded. ‘Yeah, I keep thinking about it, too.’

  ‘It was pretty …’ Will struggled to find the right word.

  ‘Unbelievable?’ suggested Shavil, shouting because of his headphones.

  Will nodded. He’d replayed it through his mind over and over and he still couldn’t believe it himself.

  For the first ball of the last over, Will had started with his regulation stock ball off-break which he knew the batsman would be waiting for, so he had decided to bowl it much quicker than he usually would. It had taken the batsman by surprise but he got a deflection off the edge of the bat and it tore away through the covers. The batsman got in two runs and was looking for a third but Shavil’s return throw from extra cover was a beauty and they had to stay with two. England needed eight from five.

  On the second ball Will lobbed an explosive topspinner down the pitch and it beat the batsman completely. Dot ball.

  Eight from four.

  On the third ball Will stayed with the off-break but the English batsman poked it through a gap between cover and mid-off. Only a desperate lunging dive from Joey stopped it from reaching the rope. Again the batsmen looked for three, but Joey’s strong right arm rocketed the ball to the keeper’s end and the batsman scrambled back to the crease.

  England needed six from three.

  Will turned to his carrom ball.

  Don’t fail me now.

  But the batsman had been determined to swing no matter what and just managed to get the toe of the bat to the ball. A sliding save at mid-on by Dylan stopped him from finding the boundary. They took two more. England needed four runs to win.

  On the second last ball Will was out of ideas. Out of nowhere, Zoe’s voice came into his head.

  Keep it simple, stupid!

  So he did. He let the ball rip with as much spin as he could muster.

  The batsman played and missed. Dot ball.

  Will closed his eyes.

  One more ball.

  Anticipate.

  He needs four. The pressure’s all on him. He has to swing for it. Put it on the stumps. But not a lollipop. It has to turn.

  Will opened his eyes.

  Act.

  He stepped up to the bowler’s crease and bowled the sixth and final ball. It floated down the off side, bounced, then skidded up off the deck and back into the air.

  The English batsman locked his eyes on it and went for the hook shot. He sliced the bat through the air, meaning to send the ball all the way to the rope.

  But the ball was no longer there.

  It had passed a centimetre below the bla
de of the bat and landed with pinpoint accuracy right on top of middle stump.

  The bails clattered to the ground.

  For a moment there was dead silence.

  Then the crowd roared.

  What happened next was still a blur. There had been lots of hugging and cheering and hair ruffling – Will remembered that. And at one point he had been on someone’s shoulders. Will even thought he’d noticed a few tears in Jack’s eye but he couldn’t be certain.

  But Will remembered the presentation clearly.

  Each of the Australian players had been presented with medals from the president of the International Young Cricketers Council. Then he had handed Will the T20 Youth World Cup trophy.

  ‘Brilliant effort today. World class,’ said the IYCC president.

  And that’s the bit Will remembered best. World class. They had taken on the world and won …

  Will’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

  He looked behind him. It was Zoe. She was seated a few rows back.

  ‘You owe me a blue slushie, Willster,’ she said.

  Will laughed. ‘Okay,’ he replied.

  The plane’s engines whirled to life, giving a high-pitched whine.

  They smiled at each other and Will found it hard to look away.

  Then the plane was speeding down the runway and Will turned back around.

  As the jumbo jet lifted up into the air, he watched the buildings and fields of England fall away to be replaced by the passing clouds.

  One day, Will thought to himself, maybe I’ll be back to play for Australia, just like Glenn Maxwell. Maybe one day it will be my name up there on the Lord’s honours board.

  Maybe one day I might even get to kiss Zoe Jarrett on the lips.