by David Warner
Hi there,
I’m David Warner, Australian cricketer, and I’m really excited to introduce you to my new series of kids’ books called The Kaboom Kid.
Little Davey Warner is ‘the Kaboom Kid’, a cricket-mad eleven-year-old who wants to play cricket with his mates every minute of the day, just like I did as a kid.
Davey gets into all sorts of scrapes with his friends, but mainly he has a great time playing cricket for his cricket club, the Sandhill Sluggers, and helping them win lots of matches.
If you’re into cricket, and I know you are, then you will love these books. Enjoy The Kaboom Kid.
David Warner
Chapter 1: Eleven Green Batters . . .
Chapter 2: The B4U Fan
Chapter 3: New Recruits
Chapter 4: Keep it Down!
Chapter 5: A Cricket Catastrophe
Chapter 6: Clean Bowled and Out
Chapter 7: Training Trauma
Chapter 8: Talkin’ Tango
Chapter 9: Maro Magic
Chapter 10: George’s No-brainer
Chapter 11: ‘Tarantula’
Chapter 12: Sandhill Flats Slump
Chapter 13: The Warbling Wicket-keeper
Chapter 14: The Sandhill Flats Singers
FOR CANDICE
CHAPTER 1
ELEVEN GREEN BATTERS . . .
‘Warner, you’re reserve keeper!’ Sunil Deep was speaking in his team captain’s voice, even though they were just having a hit in the playground before school.
‘Aye, aye, cap’n.’ Davey Warner bowed and doffed the old trucker’s cap he called his baggy green, but he wasn’t exactly ecstatic as he trudged to the spot behind the wicket.
‘It’s not my thing,’ he said to his friend, George Pepi, who was at the crease, bat in hand, waiting for Sunil to bowl. ‘Batting – yep, definitely. A bit of spin bowling – if I’m needed. But wicket-keeping?’ He shook his head.
Sunil ran in and bowled a fast ball on leg stump. George hit it off the front foot straight to mid-on. Ivy Mundine was there, and she quickly got her hands to the ball and threw it back. George didn’t try for a run.
‘Yeah, well, as soon as Dylan turns up you’re free,’ George said. He frowned. ‘His mum must have forgotten to wake him up again.’
Dylan was often late. He told his friends it was his mum’s fault, but Davey had noticed that Dylan’s mum always seemed to be on time for parent–teacher interviews and when she had to see Mrs Trundle, the school principal, about Dylan breaking school rules again.
Still, nobody really minded. Dylan was one of those kids everyone liked – everyone except Mrs Trundle and their teacher, Mr Mudge.
With an invisible bat, Davey slogged an invisible ball for six. ‘I wish he’d hurry up. I need a bit more time at the crease.’ A real ball whizzed past his ear and George took the opportunity to run for a bye, bringing Kevin McNab, another of Davey’s good friends, on to strike.
‘What’re you doing, Warner?’ Sunil shouted. ‘You’re supposed to be keeping wicket, not pretending you’re batting for Australia!’
Max, Davey’s dog, was fielding at deep fine leg, even though Mrs Trundle had banned him from the school grounds for life. Now he chased the ball and, moments later, dropped it at Sunil’s feet.
‘I have to practise my shots for Friday,’ Davey shouted. ‘First game of the school comp. We’ve got to beat the Batfish!’
The last time Sandhill Flats Primary played Batfish Beach Primary they’d lost. Now they were thirsty for revenge.
Kevin nodded. ‘Yep, gotta get those Batfish back.’
‘You’re a batfish!’
It was Mo Clouter, school bully and cricket detester. He and his friends Nero and Tony had wandered down to C playground to look for something to do. They’d found it – bothering the cricketers was one of their favourite pastimes. Now they were standing right behind Davey, talking loudly and whistling, trying to put him off his game.
Davey tried to block them out. He focused on Sunil, who let loose a fast bouncer down the pitch.
Davey then Kevin ducked as the ball flew over their heads and sailed past Mo and his friends. ‘Hey, watch what you’re doing, Deep!’ Mo shouted.
Sunil gave them a friendly wave. ‘Sorry! Better get out of the way!’
But Mo didn’t move. ‘Hey, Shorty!’ he called to Davey. ‘Guess you’ll have to be wicket-keeper from here on, now that Dylan’s gone . . .’
Davey and Kevin glanced at each other.
‘He’s just late,’ Davey shouted over his shoulder.
‘Ha-ha!’
Davey turned around. Mo and his friends were holding their bellies and laughing like they’d just watched the funniest YouTube video ever.
Davey shook his head. ‘What?’
‘Yeah, three years late by the time you see him again. He’s left. His whole family’s gone. Didn’t he tell you?’
Davey and the rest of the cricket team looked at each other. Dylan gone? Without telling them? He’d never do that.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Davey said, turning his back on Mo and his crew.
‘You’ll find out soon enough!’ Mo said. ‘Right, guys?’
‘Right!’ Nero and Tony echoed.
‘Dylan’s gone, Shorty. His mum got some big job in a mine up north and they’ve moved. I heard Mrs Trundle tell Mudge last week.’ Mo made a sad face. ‘Guess he forgot to mention it to you.’
Mo and his fellow comedians lumbered off, laughing loudly.
Davey and the rest of the team stopped playing to discuss this latest piece of information.
‘Do you reckon he’s telling the truth?’ George asked.
Sunil shrugged. ‘Dunno. Dylan was off sick all last week. Maybe he was going to tell us then, but couldn’t.’
Kevin stuck out his bottom lip. ‘Hope it’s not true. Who’s gonna drive Mrs Trundle round the banana? Dylan’s so-o-o-o good at that.’
They all nodded silently. Dylan had been an expert when it came to infuriating Mrs Trundle. He only had to step onto school grounds and wherever she was her eye would start twitching. It was fantastic to watch.
Davey felt a surge of fear rise in his stomach. If it was true – and it probably wasn’t, because Mo was always making stuff up – Davey would miss Dylan, no doubt about it.
But, truth be told, that wasn’t what Davey was most worried about. The surge of fear he felt was because, if Dylan had left, both the school team and the club cricket team would be without a wicket-keeper. Even worse, as reserve keeper, Davey would have to take on the job, at least until a substitute could be found. Which meant that at training he’d be spending too much time behind the wicket and less time at the crease. Worst of all, with the game coming up on Friday against Batfish Beach, Davey would most definitely have to keep wicket. Which he wasn’t at all prepared for.
‘Clouter’s making it up,’ Davey said. ‘Dylan’ll be here any minute.’ But even though he tried to sound confident, the awful feeling didn’t go away.
The school bell sounded. Max barked and tried to make a dash for it, but Davey caught him by the collar. ‘You better get out of here before Trundle sees you,’ he said, tugging the dog to the school gate.
Davey pushed Max through and surveyed the street. A few stragglers were still arriving to school, but there was no sign of Dylan.
Surely he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, Davey thought. And surely he wouldn’t leave before the big match against the Batfish. Surely . . .
CHAPTER 2
THE B4U FAN
Mr Mudge, the grumpiest teacher at Sandhill Flats Primary, stood in the doorway of the classroom and waved the students of 6M through. It was only 9.30 in the morning, but he already looked tired.
‘Maybe Dyl
an’s on the run?’ Davey whispered loudly to Sunil as they squeezed past their teacher. Davey had recently seen a movie about a guy who’d been wrongly accused of something and everyone was after him. Maybe that had happened to Dylan, he thought, although he had to admit that when Dylan was accused of something he was usually guilty.
Sunil made a face. ‘Yeah, well, Mrs Trundle’s probably after him. But I don’t think that’s why he’s not here.’
‘If you’re wondering where Dylan is, he’s moved. Left on the weekend.’ Mr Mudge sounded pleased.
Davey and Sunil looked at each other. So it was true. Dylan had gone. ‘You’ll have to be keeper, Warner. It’s just the way it is,’ Sunil whispered, before making his way to his seat in the far corner of the room.
Davey took his place near Bella Ferosi and Mo Clouter, in the opposite corner of the room from Sunil. Kevin and George occupied the other two corners. Mr Mudge’s tactic of separating the four boys so they couldn’t talk about cricket in class was certainly effective.
Mrs Trundle appeared in the doorway. Beside her was a tall girl with a long dark plait.
‘Mrs Trundle!’ Mr Mudge was grinning like a crocodile. ‘Who do we have here?’
‘Mr Mudge, 6M . . .’ Mrs Trundle ushered the girl in. ‘This is Tay Tui. She’s new at our school. Tay doesn’t know anyone here yet, so please introduce yourselves. I want everyone in Year Six to make her welcome.’
‘I know Mo,’ the new girl said in a clear voice. ‘He’s the cousin of my second-best friend, Shania.’
Mr Mudge smiled again. His ears, which changed colour to match his mood, were a rosy pink. ‘Well, that’s wonderful! Perhaps Mo can be your buddy for a while.’ He looked across at the great galumph slumped in the chair beside Davey.
Mo nodded angelically. ‘Sure, Sir. Shania’s my favourite cousin.’
‘In that case, Tay, we might sit you near Mo. He can help you settle in.’
Mr Mudge glanced at Bella Ferosi, school captain and 6M’s most outstanding student. ‘Bella, would you mind moving places? You can take Dylan’s old spot.’
‘I’d be happy to, Mr Mudge,’ Bella said, smiling pleasantly and giving her ponytail a flick. In a split second, she’d packed up her belongings, dusted down the desk and moved to Dylan’s place, right beside Kevin.
Davey looked at his friend with sympathy. Sitting next to Bella should have had its advantages, but Davey had never been able to copy any of her work because she always kept it well covered. She also always reported him to Mr Mudge for the tiniest things. Now it would be Kevin’s turn.
As Mr Mudge showed Mrs Trundle out, Tay Tui wandered over to Davey’s table. She pulled out the chair Bella had vacated, sat down and plonked her backpack on the desk.
Davey noticed Tay’s bag had stuff written all over it, things like ‘IB4U’ and ‘B4U4ME’.
Humming to herself, Tay unzipped her bag and took out her pencil case. It was covered in the same slogans.
The new girl was clearly a big fan of the boy band B4U, a band Davey and his friends couldn’t stand on principle (the principle being that any band loved by so many girls must be bad).
Now Davey noticed that someone – probably Tay – had drawn portraits in blue pen of each of the B4U members on the pencil case. Davey tried to work out who was who, but the pictures didn’t look much like Lochie, Wills, Finn and Zac, the four band members. (Davey kicked himself. How do I even know their names?)
Now he noticed that Tay was singing to herself. She wasn’t too bad – but then he realised what she was singing. It was B4U’s big hit, the one that had catapulted the band to the top of the charts, where they’d been ever since, denying proper, good bands a shot at fame. ‘You’re My One, My Baby’ was the worst song Davey had ever heard. The trouble was, as soon as you heard it you couldn’t stop singing it – for weeks. Aargh!
‘Who said that?’ Mudge peered around the room with piggy eyes.
‘Warner did, Sir.’ It was Mo.
Davey woke from his awful daydream with a start.
For once, Mr Mudge let it go through to the keeper. He glared at Davey for a moment before continuing. ‘As I was saying, class, I’m pleased to announce that one of 6M’s students has been selected to perform at the town hall in the city as part of Senior Citizens’ Week celebrations.’
Mr Mudge’s lips parted, revealing a hint of yellow teeth. Davey guessed the teacher was attempting to smile kindly.
‘As we all know, Kevin McNab is a ballroom dancer, which I must say is a far better use of your time’ – Mudge looked across at Kevin and nodded approvingly – ‘than playing cricket. Anyway, Kevin and his dance partner have been selected to perform with a troupe chosen from all over the city.’
Davey looked across at his friend and surreptitiously gave him the thumbs-up. Kevin rolled his eyes: he hated ballroom dancing, but his mum made him do it.
Mudge’s ears glowed softly. ‘So let’s all give Kevin a clap and wish him luck for his performance this Friday. He should be very proud.’
6M burst into applause. But Davey sat there like a stunned toadfish. He looked across at Sunil, then Kevin, then George. They too were motionless, staring into space as if they’d been donged on the head by a fishmonger’s mallet.
Davey was in such shock that even Tay Tui’s singing couldn’t stir him. Dylan’s leaving had been bad enough. But now Kevin wouldn’t be playing in the match on Friday either, and he was one of their best bats. How were Sandhill Flats going to even play against the Batfish, let alone beat them? It was too awful to contemplate.
And there was the new girl, Tay Tui, still singing, as if nothing was wrong.
‘You know you need me, baby,
It’s true, oo-oo-oo.’
Davey put his hands over his ears. Aargh!
‘That was Warner again, Sir,’ Mo said.
CHAPTER 3
NEW RECRUITS
Recess passed in a blur. At last the lunchtime bell rang. Finally, after a few false starts that caused Mr Mudge’s ears to turn maroon, the teacher let the class out. Relieved, Davey grabbed his lunchbox and Kaboom, his special cricket bat made of English willow.
‘At least we’ve got cricket training,’ Davey said to his friends as they crossed the playground to their favourite lunch spot.
Sunil gave him a friendly push. ‘Ready to get behind the wicket? I know you love it.’
Davey groaned. He turned to Kevin. ‘McNab, didn’t you realise the dancing thing was on the same day as the match?’
‘No! I thought it wasn’t on for ages.’ Kevin shrugged. ‘Mum didn’t tell me. But don’t worry, guys.’ He sounded optimistic. ‘I’ll get her to write a letter to the dance people. I’ll get out of it, no sweat.’
‘You better.’ George sounded glummer than Davey, if that was possible.
Kevin grinned. ‘Leave it to me!’
‘Ah, boys! Lovely to see you arrive to training on time!’ It was the nice new teacher, Ms Maro.
‘What’s she doing here?’ Davey whispered to Sunil.
Sunil gave a little shrug that only Davey saw. ‘Hi, Ms Maro,’ he said, smiling so his dimple showed. ‘Are you helping out today?’
Ms Maro grinned like she’d been handed a huge piece of ice-cream cake. ‘I’m the new coach, Sunil.’ She looked around at the gathering team members. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, I love cricket! So when Mrs Trundle was looking for a coach for the school team, I put up my hand.’ She clapped in excitement. ‘We are going to have so much fun!’
Davey’s heart lifted just a tiny bit. Even though Ms Maro came across as entirely loopy, she actually was fun most of the time.
‘Well, in that case . . . As captain, I’d like to welcome you, Ms Maro,’ Sunil said, putting out his hand. ‘But I guess we better get to it. We’ve got a big game on Friday.’
Davey knew what his friend was up to: if there was one thing the cricket players hated it was standing around talking when they could be having a hit, even if they were two players
down.
Ms Maro smiled sunnily. ‘We’ll get started as soon as I’ve made a couple of announcements,’ she said firmly.
She motioned for everyone to move closer. ‘Now, first, as you know, Dylan has moved schools, so we need a new wicket-keeper.’ A look of sorrow crossed her face but was gone as quickly as it had arrived. ‘Secondly, as you probably also know, clever Kevin here is dancing for our senior citizens on Friday, so won’t be able to play. That means we’re two players short.’
‘No, it’s okay, Ms Maro,’ Kevin called out. ‘My mum’s going to write a letter.’
Ms Maro reached into her pocket. ‘She’s already done it, Kevin,’ she said, waving a piece of paper. ‘Mums are always ahead of the game, eh?’ She smiled. ‘Now, your mum says here –’ Ms Maro held up the letter ‘– that you won’t be coming to school at all that day, because you have to catch a bus to the town hall in the city and be there two hours before the performance at one o’clock.’
She looked over at Kevin. ‘So, while we’re hitting sixes and catching out Batfish, you’ll be spinning your partner round the dancefloor for the senior citizens!’
She tucked the letter back in her pocket. ‘Kevin, we’re proud of you, but we’re going to miss you on Friday, aren’t we team?’
‘Yes, Ms Maro,’ the cricketers said in monotone unison.
Davey gave Kevin a push. ‘Good one, McNab!’ he hissed. ‘Now what do we do?’
‘So what we’re hoping to do is . . .’ Ms Maro looked around excitedly, as if they were all about to embark on a trip to the moon. ‘We’re hoping to enlist a couple of new players.’
‘Great idea, Miss,’ Sunil said, smiling so his dimple showed. ‘But no one else knows how to play. We’ve tried it before.’
Davey nodded in agreement. ‘It’s true, Miss,’ he said.
‘Well, I think our luck’s about to change,’ Ms Maro said. ‘Because I happen to know of two people who are very keen to join the team.’
Suddenly, Davey became aware of a sound he’d hoped never to hear again, the sound of that awful B4U song.
