Hit for Six (7 page)

‘The dirty dishes are still in the sink!' protested Davey.

‘Now!' His mother frogmarched him to his room and sat him down at his desk.

She was right. If he didn't hand his essay in the next day, he wouldn't be allowed to practise his hitting, let alone play in the match.

Max wandered into the room and jumped up onto Davey's bed.

‘Hey, mutt,' said Davey.

Max circled three times and then lay down with a huff.

Davey yawned. He looked down at his blank piece of paper. Wow. He'd been sitting there for ten minutes and hadn't written a word.

Trouble is, maybe Bella's right,
he thought.
Maybe I'm just not very academic. Mr Mudge doesn't seem to think I am.

Davey really felt like a Whopper Chomp. Or something sugary to eat. Or anything to eat. Or a drink. He got up to go to the kitchen.

‘Not so fast!' Davey's mum was waiting in the hall outside his bedroom.

‘Are you stalking me?' Davey asked.

‘Essay,' she said firmly.

‘I'm hungry,' Davey complained.

Davey's mum smiled knowingly. ‘I'll bring you a snack. And a drink. Now go!'

Davey sat back down at his desk and knew that this was it. No more excuses. He thought about Trevor and the care and attention that went into looking after the bowling green.

Davey wrote at the top of the page, ‘Behind the Scenes by David Warner'.

Then he began to write.

The next morning, Davey met up with Sunil, Kevin and George at C playing field before school.

‘Hey, stranger,' called Kevin. Then he hit a ball straight into George's outstretched hands at silly mid-off.

‘Howzat?' cried George.

‘Aw!' Kevin walked.

Davey and Kaboom took their place at the crease. It felt good to be back. Sunil obliged by bowling him a few so he could practise his new shot.

‘Woah!' Davey realised just how rusty he was when he spun around so fast he fell over.

‘You'll be calling me Lord and Master before too long,' snorted Mo, who seemed to have appeared magically out of thin air.

Mo was flanked by Nero and Tony, who apparently both found Mo's comment to be utterly hilarious.

Davey knew it was better to ignore Mo in the hope he would vanish, but this morning he took the bait.

‘You don't know what you're talking about, Clouter,' he said. ‘You know nothing about cricket.'

‘I know you've done zero cricket practise for the last week,' the big galah screeched. ‘The Whopper Chomps are mine,
all mine!
'

‘Don't be too sure,' said Davey. ‘I'm the underdog and everyone loves the underdog.'

‘The chances of you hitting six sixes are zero,' the big hunk of wood guffawed before lumbering off.

Davey managed to get a few hits in before the bell rang.

The four friends made their way to the classroom. Most of 6M had already taken their seats, but Mudge was nowhere to be seen.

Bella Ferosi gave her ponytail a distracted flick when she saw Davey take his seat.

‘End of term is getting closer, David,' she said and held up her pocketbook calendar. ‘Not much time left to get a merit award.'

Bella flashed Davey her perfectly even white teeth in a well-practised, yet insincere, smile.

‘So should I measure you up for a costume?' she continued. ‘Pink will really suit your skin tone.'

‘Just like slug colour will really suit yours,' Davey shot back.

They locked eyes.

Davey waggled two fingers above his head like slug antennae waving in the breeze.

‘Don't mess with me, Warner,' Bella replied, her voice as cold as steel. ‘There's only room in this class for one teacher's pet.'

Davey mimed the slug dance and hummed the Sluggers' song.

Finally Mr Mudge arrived.

‘Good morning, 6M.' He dabbed at the back of his neck with a stained handkerchief. ‘We have computer studies first up this morning, so grab your workbooks and we'll head over to the lab.'

Davey shot up his hand.

‘What is it, Warner?' Mudge snapped, with more than a hint of impatience.

‘I have my lawn bowls essay for you, Sir.'

‘Ah, yes!' Mudge looked so surprised he almost fell over. ‘Bring it over.'

Davey threaded his way past chairs and desks and held out the essay to Mudge.

‘Just put it on my desk,' Mudge said dismissively. ‘I'll get to it later.'

‘Yes, Sir.' Davey placed the essay on Mudge's desk.

Mudge peered at the title page and sniffed as if the essay somehow offended him.

‘I imagine it won't take me long to read if it's your usual standard.'

Davey ignored Bella's look of triumph on the way back to his desk.

The next few days passed in a blur for Davey. He worked with Trevor before and after school. He kept his head down in class and tried to be a model student. He helped Mudge polish endless supplies of lawn bowls during his lunch break. And when he could he practised his six-hitting.

All too soon, it was the night before the big game against Shimmer Bay.

Davey struggled to get to sleep. After a few hours of tossing and turning, he turned on his light and sat up in bed. Max gave a snort of protest but went back to sleep.

Davey looked up at the faded poster of his hero, Ricky Ponting, which hung above his bed. Ricky was smiling and, despite the fangs that Sunil had added, it gave Davey
confidence to imagine he was talking to the real Ricky.

Davey imagined Ricky was standing at the crease – he stared straight ahead, concentrating on the ball coming his way.

‘Everyone's out to get me, Ricky,' Davey told his hero. ‘I've set myself up for the impossible. And now all the people who want me to fail are going to get what they want.'

‘It's not over until the last wicket falls.'

‘What?' Davey could have sworn that Ricky had spoken, but the face in the poster just stared back at him.

Davey turned the phrase over and over in his mind and eventually fell asleep.

Nothing could have prepared Davey for the size of the crowd gathered at the cricket ground.

‘Holy moly,' he murmured.

Word of the bet had spread like wildfire throughout the school. Kids from kindy
through to Year Six were keen to see if Davey Warner could indeed hit six sixes. Nobody wanted to see him become Mo Clouter's personal slave.

Davey noticed that most of 6M were there. He could easily pick out Mo's big head. He noticed that Bella was also in the crowd.

‘You're going down, Shorty,' growled Mo when he saw Davey. ‘Prepare to lose.'

Davey gave Mo a friendly wave and scanned the rest of the crowd.

Rob, the selector for the rep side, was there. He was always on the lookout for new talent. Seeing Rob made Davey's stomach lurch with nerves.

‘Davey Warner!' Rob nodded and waved his little notebook.

Talk about pressure.

But the biggest surprise was that Benny was there on time before the start of a big game.

‘So miracles do happen!' said Sunil. He and Davey shared a look.

‘Oi, Sluggers!'

Benny called the team together for a pre-game pep talk. He shook his head sadly at the fate that awaited them.

‘It takes real courage to lose well,' Benny began, and he adjusted his belt over his protruding belly. ‘The fact that you guys have got this far should be reward enough.'

For once, Benny was right. There was a general muttering of agreement from the
team. After all, everyone knew that Shimmer Bay were virtually impossible to beat.

‘I even heard a joke that Davey is going to hit six sixes!' Benny grabbed his generous stomach and let out a huge belly laugh. ‘Funniest thing I've ever heard, hey Warner?'

Davey cleared his throat. ‘It's true, Coach. What's more, we're going to win. We're going to beat Josh Jarrett and Shimmer Bay.'

Benny laughed so hard that big tears rolled down his chubby cheeks. ‘You boys, you keep me young.' He wiped the tears away. ‘I need to go and eat something before the game.' He belched loudly and wandered off towards the canteen.

Sunil gathered the team in closer.

‘Davey's right,' said Sunil in his captain's voice.

It was hard not to get carried away by Sunil's sunny disposition and sense of authority. ‘We've got this far because we're good. We're going to take this team down and claim our rightful spot at number one!'

The team let out a cheer.

The Sluggers won the toss and opted to bat first. Because it was such a big game, it was going to be played over two innings. They had their work cut out for them.

As Shimmer Bay made their way out onto the field, Josh Jarrett tipped his cap curtly to Davey.

‘Hey Warner, I see your bowling cronies are here to support you!' He held up his
thumb and forefinger in the shape of an L for ‘loser'.

Davey didn't know what Josh was talking about until he saw a small group gathered under a tree. Trevor and a few of the other guys from the bowls club were sipping tea from plastic mugs.

‘Bowl me over!' Davey chuckled to himself. Just about everyone he knew was gathered together to watch this game.

Then Davey saw something that nearly did bowl him over.

Mudge was standing with Trevor.

It made
no
sense. Mudge hated cricket! He
detested
cricket. Davey didn't have time to figure out Mudge's agenda, because it was time to play.

The Sluggers got off to a shaky start, losing their two openers early in quick succession.

It was Davey's turn to bat. This was his big moment.

As he walked out, Sunil gave him a big thumbs up.

‘Go, Davey!' called his family.

Despite the crowd watching his every move, Davey did his best to block everything out. It was him and Kaboom and the ball. He tightened his grip and tapped Kaboom against the crease.

‘Let's see what you've got, Warner,' snarled Troy, Shimmer Bay's fast bowler.

Davey felt quietly confident and started hitting the ball very sweetly. He kept his head down and allowed himself to warm up.

Before too long, he had reached thirty-five, with two well-struck sixes under his belt.

‘Boo!' Mo jeered.

‘You can do it, Davey!' Trevor yelled. The bowlers let out a whoop.

Davey grinned and then, in a rush of over-confidence, he decided to try the helicopter shot.

He hit the ball high on the bat and succeeded only in looping it to backward square leg, where the fielder took an easy catch.

He was out.

George got his head down and, with some help from Tay Tui, they pushed the score on to 128 all out.

When Shimmer Bay came in, they started steadily, with Josh batting well. However, Sunil was at his deadly best. He dismissed three of their top order and continued to trouble all the batsmen.