Glenn Maxwell 3

by Patrick Loughlin

  ‘Well, yeah,’ admitted Zoe, once her laughing fit had subsided. ‘Glenn had just arrived and when I saw you were the only one signed in I thought it might be a good time for a batting intervention.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Will defensively.

  ‘Will, I saw you out there against Tasmania. It wasn’t pretty.’

  ‘At least I’m able to play,’ said Will before he could stop himself.

  ‘So I can’t be out there, playing for my team. But at least I’m supporting them, which is more than I can say for you. I don’t know what’s got into you, Will. You’re blowing it!’

  There was an awkward moment of silence. Will knew Zoe was right but for some reason he was finding it hard to admit it.

  ‘Um, I think what Zoe means is that we need to get you back in form for the semifinal,’ Glenn said politely. ‘Congrats on making it, by the way.’

  ‘Thanks, Maxi’, said Will. He tried to put his pride aside. ‘I guess I could use a hand. I don’t know what the problem is.’ Actually, Will did know. ‘I was trying to be the big fish, then I had a dream I was a fish –’

  ‘You had a dream you were a fish?’ interrupted Zoe.

  ‘Never mind that,’ said Will sharply. ‘I just mean, I was trying hard to think positive and to be confident and to play well – but now I just can’t seem to find my rhythm,’ explained Will.

  ‘Hmm. The Big Fish, huh?’ said Glenn dubiously. ‘Sounds a bit like the nickname I got saddled with: The Big Show. Sometimes if you concentrate only on trying to do big things, you end up forgetting the small stuff that’s really important.’

  ‘So I shouldn’t think positive?’ asked Will, a little confused.

  ‘Will, I suggest you don’t think at all. Just go out there and play your shots. Trust your instincts and the runs will come,’ said Glenn. ‘Let’s give the bowling machine a go again and this time …’

  ‘Don’t think?’ asked Will.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Glenn. ‘KISS.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Will.

  ‘Keep it simple, –’

  ‘– stupid!’ Zoe finished, looking a bit too hard at Will.

  ‘Oh,’ said Will.

  ‘Just watch that ball and keep swinging,’ said Glenn.

  Will went back to the crease and tried not to think.

  Beep.

  The ball flew at him and then straight past him.

  ‘Now, you’re trying not to think aren’t you?’ asked Glenn.

  ‘Um … yep. I guess.’

  ‘Just watch the ball and play the shot, Will,’ said Glenn.

  Will locked his eyes on the two wheels of the bowling machine, waiting for the ball’s release.

  Beep.

  The ball flew at Will.

  Will smashed it back down the lane.

  ‘That’s it!’ said Glenn.

  Beep.

  Smack! Will whacked another one, straight off the middle of the bat.

  Beep.

  Will smashed another. And another. And as he sized up each ball and dispatched it cleanly the way it came, there was just one thought running through the back of his brain.

  Maybe I can do this!

  BATTING UP A STORM

  On the afternoon of the semifinal, the boys sat and watched the girls’ team take on Queensland. The Victorian girls put up a good fight but weren’t strong enough to chase down a large Queenslander total. Will saw how disappointed Zoe was and felt that it was time to swallow his pride and make up.

  ‘Hey, Zoe.’

  Zoe gave a little smile but didn’t say anything.

  ‘Sorry about the game … I’m probably not meant to say this, but I bet you guys would have won if you could have played.’ Will gave a tentative smile.

  ‘Thanks, Will,’ said Zoe, a little brighter this time.

  ‘And thanks for yesterday with Maxi, it was just what I needed,’ added Will.

  Zoe nodded. ‘I know. And I didn’t mean to call you stupid.’

  ‘That’s okay. I think I was a bit stupid for a while there,’ said Will, and they both laughed. Will’s heart felt a little lighter – until he noticed an ominous fleet of black clouds building in the west.

  ‘Ah, Melbourne, beautiful one day, doomsday the next,’ said Jack with a hearty laugh.

  Will had to agree. From where he was sitting, the dark clouds rolling in did have that end-of-the-world look about them.

  By the time the Victorian boys’ side walked out to the oval to begin the match, the storm clouds were directly overhead.

  The West Australian team, which had finished on top of Group B, won the toss and the captain chose to bat. It was a sensible choice considering the weather. Will watched the familiar face of Brock Anderson as he took up the crease at the striker’s end.

  ‘Hi, Willster!’ Brock said cheerfully. ‘Best of luck today.’

  ‘Hey, Brock. Yeah … good luck to you guys too.’

  Well, Brock certainly hadn’t lost his polite nature since travelling back to Western Australia and taking up the opening spot for the Western Australian state team. Another thing he hadn’t lost was his ability to smash the stuffing out of the ball. When Darren came steaming in and served up a scorching first ball, Brock simply leant back and timed a perfect late cut that took full advantage of Darren’s pace and sent the ball hurtling towards the fence for four.

  There’s a guy who’s not over-thinking things, mused Will at square leg. He was crouching down low, ready for a catch or run-out opportunity, but something told him it wouldn’t happen while Brock was out in the middle.

  Unfortunately for Victoria, Will was right. Brock and his opening partner weren’t intimidated by Killer’s speed. They went after the pace bowlers from the first over and managed to get Western Australia off to a blistering start. Brock seemed to know where every delivery was going to pitch before it had even left the bowler’s hand, and he always seemed to have plenty of time to select a shot and move into position. After just six overs, Brock was on 45.

  In no time at all Western Australia had cruised to 72 without loss. Mike decided enough was enough. He called Will over. ‘Okay Will, we really need a wicket here. You have to break this partnership.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Will nervously.

  ‘But, you know, no pressure,’ added Mike.

  ‘Right, no worries,’ said Will. He took up the ball and headed to the northern end once again. Then something tapped him on the head.

  Will looked up and a large fat raindrop splatted in his eye. Then another hit him in the face. A moment later, the clouds burst and the rain came down. And not just rain, there was thunder and lightning as well. The umpire signalled game off and the players jogged off the field while the groundsmen quickly dragged out the pitch covers. By the time the players got to the stand, the rain was pelting down.

  ‘Maybe I won’t need to take any wickets. Looks like the game will be a washout!’ said Will hopefully as he and Mike took cover under the shelter of the grandstand.

  ‘They can’t call it off, it’s a semifinal,’ said Mike dourly. ‘If the rain stops we’ll still have to bat, and we’ll need to better the Western Australian total by quite a bit, but in the same number of overs.’

  ‘They’re none for 72 from six! We’ll never get more than that,’ sighed Will.

  ‘Better hope it doesn’t stop raining then,’ said Mike.

  So Will closed his eyes and prayed for the rain to pour down. And it did. For 45 minutes. Then as quickly as it started, it stopped. The clouds broke and the blue sky reappeared and the umpires made the decision to use the Duckworth-Lewis method to calculate the score Victoria would need to win. Will had never been so disappointed to see the sun.

  HIT AND RUN

  ‘I know this seems like a big ask, boys,’ said Jack as the groundsmen removed the covers and the umpires headed out to check the pitch. ‘According to the Duckworth-Lewis method, we need 82 runs from six overs to win.’ Jack gave a low whistle and clicked his tongue. ‘B
ut we’ve got two very good openers. They just need to go out there and play positive. If Western Australia can get the runs, then we can too!’

  Jack finished by forcing a large smile and then nodded at Shavil and Riley. ‘Well, go on, get out there, what are you waiting for?’

  Shavil shot Will a tiny look of desperation. Will didn’t know what to do. Finally he gave Shavil a determined fist pump in the air. Shavil limply pumped his fist back. The two smiled before Shavil and Riley walked out to face the first over of a near-impossible innings. Half an over later, it became a little nearer to impossible when Riley went searching for a cut shot and the ball struck the bottom edge of his bat, ricocheting onto the bails.

  Jack looked over at Will, who reluctantly stood up and grabbed his bat, gloves and helmet. It took a moment for him to realise the whole team was looking at him.

  They all think I’m going to blow it.

  ‘Go get ’em, Will,’ said Jack, with a steely resolve.

  His teammates chimed in.

  ‘Yeah, come on Will!’

  ‘You’ve got this!’

  They clapped him and patted his back as he made his way past them to the gate.

  ‘Thanks guys,’ said Will. At least his teammates were behind him.

  When he got out in the middle Will turned to face the bowler. What had Maxi told him?

  Watch the ball. Swing. Keep it simple …

  The first ball suddenly zipped straight past him on the off side and Will had to contort his body to get his bat out of the way in time.

  Stupid! I was too busy thinking about not thinking.

  Just watch the ball, he told himself.

  But the next ball was too good – right in the block hole.

  There was no way for him to get that one to the boundary. None from five, chasing 82. They might as well just pack it in now.

  Shavil signalled for Will to meet him in the middle. When he got there, Shavil looked at him with a tiny twinkle in his eyes.

  ‘Stop trying to hit boundaries,’ he whispered.

  ‘What? But we need …’ Will looked over at the scoreboard, ‘82 runs off five overs.’

  ‘That’s why they think you’ll go for sixes not singles. They want you to take singles. Let’s just play hit and run for a while.’

  Will didn’t understand Shavil’s logic but when he faced the last ball of the over he did exactly what Shavil suggested and took an easy single. On the first ball of the next over, Will again found a single. The Western Australian players seemed happy with the result if it meant no boundaries. Shavil did the same from the second ball, putting Will back on strike. He looked around at the field placing. Maybe I can grab a two if I get past mid-wicket.

  The third ball was also well placed, but Will managed to slot it perfectly between the mid-wicket fielder and the deep mid-on. He took off quickly and called ‘two’ to Shavil as they passed. The throw came low and fast as Will came back for the second but he glided the bat safely over the crease. Will couldn’t believe his luck when the wickie fumbled the ball and it rolled away behind him. Will didn’t have to say a word; Shavil was pounding down the pitch for the overthrow. Five runs off three. It was a start.

  Shavil mistimed the next delivery but it struck the top of his pad and ran away right between the fielder at leg gully and the keeper. Four leg byes. Shavil took another single off the fifth and Will found himself back on strike for the last.

  Ten runs off the over so far. They had done well. No need to get carried away.

  Just watch the ball, Will told himself … But when he saw the last delivery was pitched in short, his eyes lit up.

  This time, he didn’t need to think.

  BANG!

  Like a bullet from a gun, the ball screamed all the way to the fence. Six runs! That made it 16 off the over!

  Just 66 runs to go, thought Will. We can’t do this … Can we?

  But two overs later, Will and Shavil were piling on the runs. They cut and drove and tapped and edged and took each and every run they could get. Sometimes it was one or two but more and more it was four or six. There were pretty shots, ugly shots, clever shots, not-so-clever shots, tiny strokes and massive slogs and each run brought down the total.

  In the third they took nine and in the fourth they took 13. For the first time, the Western Australian players began to look nervous. When they set the field to stop the ones and twos, Will sent the ball flying into the air. When they put more fielders on the boundaries, Shavil would find a sneaky one or two.

  In the fifth over, Will smashed two sixes in a row. Then he took a single, allowing Shavil to snatch three perfectly placed fours to bring it to 25 off the over. They had hit 63. They needed 19 off the last over.

  ‘Give ’em singles, no boundaries,’ called Brock desperately, and every man was pushed back to the fence.

  ‘Fine with me,’ said Will. He smacked the ball back into the gap at mid-on, but the fielder who ran in to collect it overran the ball. Will made a snap judgement and quickly called for another run. Shavil obliged and they raced off for another – just as the fielder recovered. He picked up the ball and threw it hard at the stumps. Will was well short of the crease and his heart leapt in his chest as he watched the ball head straight for the stumps …

  MOMENT OF MIRTH

  ‘Nooo!’ cried the wickie.

  The throw was wayward and missed the stumps by a metre.

  The wickie had no chance of stopping it and the ball tore away along the outfield once more, leaving Will and Shavil time to take another two runs before the ball was finally stopped just before the fence. They had four off the first ball of the over. Fifteen to go.

  On the second ball, Will took to the air. But he’d miscued it. It went skyward and he watched as a fielder positioned himself directly under the ball.

  ‘Run, Will!’ screamed Shavil.

  Will put his head down and ran. When he finally hazarded a look towards the fielder, he saw that the fielder had dropped it cold. Will couldn’t believe his luck. First the near run-out and now a dropped catch! Shavil and Will somehow managed to come back for a second run and Will retained the strike.

  Buoyed by his close escape, Will managed a pull shot off the third ball and they took another two runs. Now they needed 11 off three.

  Will got hold of the fourth ball and this time it went all the way for six. He didn’t hesitate in taking a single off the fifth ball – he knew if anyone could find the fence off the last ball it was Shavil.

  The Western Australian players were freaking out. They took almost three minutes to place a field for the final ball.

  But it didn’t make any difference. Shavil timed the ball perfectly and it raced away to the boundary. Three players ran to stop it. The ball beat them all.

  Will couldn’t believe it. Shavil had done it. They had done it. They were through to the final.

  The day before the final, the Victorian team met for a light training run on the academy oval. Most of the boys found it hard to focus: they were too busy thinking about the final showdown against New South Wales. Two teams would fight it out at the hallowed Melbourne Cricket Ground as the curtain raiser for the Big Bash match between the Melbourne Stars and the Sydney Sixers.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re going to be playing at the MCG tomorrow night! My dad is so excited. He won’t shut up about it,’ said Will as he and Shavil ran through some paired fielding drills.

  ‘I still can’t believe we won,’ said Shavil. ‘I mean, what if I’d missed that last shot? We’d be watching Brock and his team play New South Wales.’

  Will knew Shavil really had come through, winning the game on the final ball. Still, he couldn’t help but tease his friend.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, you saved the day. Can I have your autograph, Mr Kumar?’

  ‘No, but you can shout me a blue slushie after training.’

  ‘Who’s shouting slushies?’

  Will and Shavil turned to find Glenn Maxwell standing right behind them.

&
nbsp; ‘Maxi!’ shouted Shavil, unable to contain his excitement.

  ‘Hi, Maxi,’ said Will, trying hard to sound a little more subdued than Shavil.

  ‘Hey, boys, great stuff yesterday – Jack told me all about it.’

  Glenn was wearing his Melbourne Stars shirt and cap and looked almost ready to run out and play, which made Will curious. ‘Are you here for training?’

  ‘Actually,’ explained Glenn, ‘Jack invited some of the Melbourne Stars players along today to give you young guys a rev up – though after the way you two played yesterday, maybe you should be giving us the rev up.’

  Will grinned. ‘The advice you gave me the other day really helped. Though with only six overs, I didn’t have too much time to over-think things anyway!’

  Glenn winked at Will. ‘Good to hear. Just remember to keep your eye on the ball and your mind clear tomorrow night.’

  A moment later, a few of Glenn’s teammates arrived. Soon, Jack had them all playing a friendly game of hit and run. It wasn’t long before the game became more serious, though. The Melbourne players may have been far more experienced, but that didn’t stop them wanting to win against the boys. The boys were equally set on showing up the first-class players.

  When Glenn had a bat, the boys were extra keen to take his wicket, but Maxi wasn’t going to just give it away. He played plenty of his trademark shots, including two reverse sweep shots that had the boys running for miles. Finally, though, one of Glenn’s shots went straight up in the air and Will ran as hard as he could to take a one-handed catch on the fly.

  Will leapt up, beaming, with the ball still in his hand, and Glenn applauded him with his bat and his glove. When the training session was finished, Will still couldn’t wipe the smile from his face and he felt a lot more excited than nervous about the final. He was feeling so good, he even shouted Shavil that blue slushie.

  DOWN FOR THE COUNT

  The first thing Will saw when he walked out through the players’ entrance of the MCG was the Great Southern Stand. It towered over everything and made Will feel so small.