Glenn Maxwell 3 Read online

  Will watched as a number of players made their way up the stairs to the makeshift stage that had been set up outside the entrance. Soon there were a lot of players on the stage. There was a captain for each state and territory for the under 14s and 16s for both the girls’ and boys’ teams, including his own team captain, Mike Reynolds. Zoe was not one of them.

  Will looked over at Zoe. Her face was blank.

  If it were me, I’d be crushed, thought Will.

  ‘And now I’d like to call on the president of the Victorian T20 Youth Academy, Bob Cruickshank, to announce the draw,’ said Jack. A distinguished-looking gentleman came to the podium and accepted an envelope from Jack. The crowd went silent as he opened it and began reading out the groups of teams in a rough, quavering voice.

  ‘Well boys, it’s Group A for us. It isn’t the group of death but it’s pretty close,’ said Jack at the team debrief after the draw. ‘I’m confident we can beat the ACT. But New South Wales and Tasmania? We’re going to have to work hard to win against those two teams. Remember: only the top two teams from each group go through to the semifinals.’

  Group B was made up of Western Australia, South Australia, Queensland and the Northern Territory. Will thought that had they been in Group B the competition wouldn’t have been any easier, especially considering that Western Australia would have Brock opening for them.

  As the rest of the squad left, Jack called Will over for a chat.

  ‘Will, given that we’re up against the ACT first and we want to get off to a good start, I was thinking that I might promote you up the order, what do you think?’

  Will was a little surprised. Perhaps Jack had more faith in his batting than he’d thought.

  ‘Whatever you need me to do, Jack.’

  ‘Good, Will, that’s what I want to hear.’

  Will couldn’t help grinning. Maybe his positive thinking was already paying off. Victoria needed to win the shield and he was determined to play a starring role.

  ‘I won’t let you down.’

  SKY HIGH

  The coin twirled through the air and landed on the pitch of the academy oval with a soft plonk.

  ‘Heads,’ said the umpire.

  The ACT captain had called tails so Mike, the Victorian team captain, got first choice. ‘We’ll bat first,’ said Mike.

  A few minutes later, Riley Brennan – the replacement opener for Brock – and Shavil walked out to the crease for Victoria’s first shield match.

  ‘We’ve got a quality team and if we execute the game plan well, we should win this. But let’s not underestimate our opposition,’ Jack had said before the game.

  They turned out to be wise words. On the second ball of the first over, Riley played a hook shot. The ball nicked the edge of the bat, popped up two metres in the air and landed in the waiting gloves of the keeper.

  ‘That’s not a good start,’ huffed Jack, under his breath. He turned to Will. ‘All right. You’re up. Show them we mean business.’

  Will walked out to the middle, eyeing the small crowd of spectators that had turned out to watch the game. They were mostly the families and friends of the players but there were a few St Kilda locals who had come down to watch the show.

  All right, Will, stay cool. Get used to the conditions first before you cut loose, Will told himself.

  But when the ACT bowler sent down his first ball to Will – a lazy, medium pacer outside off stump – Will couldn’t resist.

  KEEERRRAAACK!

  The bowler, the umpire and all the fielders craned their necks as a little red comet passed over their heads and vanished behind the grandstand.

  The umpire raised his hands and signalled six and the spectators erupted in applause.

  Will suddenly felt a whole lot taller.

  So much for getting used to the conditions. I’m ready to let rip!

  Will slashed the next ball through covers for four. Another cheer went up from the crowd and Will smiled. I could get used to this.

  After the last ball of the over – a full delivery that Will blocked safely away – he met Shavil in the middle. Shavil punched Will’s glove.

  ‘Ouch!’ said Shavil, shaking his glove in mock pain. ‘You’re on fire!’

  It took Will by surprise, but then he grinned.

  ‘So, what’s the plan?’ asked Shavil. He asked Will this every time they batted together and Will usually gave the same response. Today was no exception, only today he said it without a single doubt in his mind.

  ‘Stay calm, hit big, don’t get out,’ said Will.

  ‘Good call,’ said Shavil.

  Shavil took the crease at the striker’s end and began in his trademark careful style. He played the first ball with a firm forward stroke, sending the ball rolling along the ground and taking a quick single. Will took up the strike and was less cautious in his approach. The bowler ran in and fired a little red rocket that was dead on target for the wicket but Will took two quick steps down the pitch and effortlessly launched the ball back over the bowler’s head.

  The umpire signalled six again. Will skipped to 18 off four balls but he was just warming up. The next three balls were like watching instant replay: each time, the ball hit the pitch just outside off stump and Will dropped to his knee and swept the ball to the fence for four.

  CRACK! Four.

  SMASH! Four.

  THUMP! Four.

  The people in the crowd, who had risen to their feet and cheered each boundary, were starting to look a little dizzy from hopping up and down.

  On the last ball of the over, just to be different, the bowler tried a bouncer. Will hooked it for six and after that, most of the crowd remained standing.

  They weren’t disappointed. On the first ball of the third over, Shavil took another careful single and Will returned to the striker’s end and continued the onslaught.

  The small collection of ACT supporters put their heads in their hands and wished that it would end soon.

  When Victoria took to the field for the second innings, they were already easily on top with a commanding total of five for 196. The ACT supporters cautiously opened their eyes to see how their batters would fare but had to close them rather quickly as Darren was unleashed onto the unsuspecting ACT openers. He snatched two scalps with two blistering deliveries. After the first over, ACT were two for nought. Six overs in and ACT had recovered a little, at four for 54. That’s when Mike handed the ball to Will.

  ‘Let’s keep the pressure on,’ said Mike. Will nodded and headed to the non-striker’s end. He looked at the field, frowned and then called Mike over.

  ‘I don’t think we need a second slip in,’ said Will.

  Mike screwed up his face in confusion. ‘What? Of course we do. I want an attacking field: we’re trying to apply pressure.’

  ‘I’ve been watching this guy and he’s not going after much on the off side. I think I can get him with someone at short mid-wicket,’ said Will.

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ said Mike.

  There was an awkward pause.

  ‘Okay,’ said Will.

  He walked back to the crease and began his over. He started with his stock off-break but didn’t get enough spin or flight on it and the batter slotted it through the on side field for two runs. Next, Will tried a topspinner to entice the batsman to play at it and get an outside edge. But, despite their desperate need for runs, the ACT batsman let it go. Will decided to go back to the off-break, trying a shorter length, and the batsman slashed at it, popping the ball up in the air. Will ran in but he couldn’t get to it and the ball fell to the ground safely in the gap.

  This is useless, thought Will.

  He looked over to Mike at first slip and threw his hands up in the air. Mike glared and shook his head.

  Fine. If he won’t change the field, I will.

  Will signalled to Riley, who was out in the deep at mid-wicket, to move in.

  Riley looked nervously over at Mike.

  ‘Get on with it!’ called s
omeone from the crowd.

  Riley shrugged and moved up to short mid-wicket.

  Will didn’t look back at Mike. If he had, he would have seen that Mike’s face was aghast with disbelief. Instead, Will concentrated on which delivery to bowl. He decided to go with the straight-arm ball he’d been practising. It would look just like the off-break but the straighter line might make the batsman play at it.

  Will trotted into the pitch and unleashed the arm ball with gusto. The batsman swiped at the ball and miscued it. It flew straight to Riley at mid-wicket, who couldn’t believe his luck. He caught the ball as clean as a whistle and threw it up into the air in celebration. The team ran in and showered Riley with high fives. Then they attacked Will.

  Everyone except for Mike.

  MR EGOTISTICAL

  ‘Why can’t people just accept advice? Why do they have to be so stubborn?’ demanded Will.

  Zoe, who was trying to watch the Victorian girls’ game against South Australia, looked over at Will curiously. ‘Who are you talking about now?’ she asked only half-interested. Will had been rabbiting on for ages.

  ‘Zoe, haven’t you been listening at all? Mike, that’s who!’ said Will. ‘All I did was make one little fielding change, then when we get off the field he starts yelling at me!’

  ‘Wait, you made a fielding change without your captain’s permission?’ She was clearly unimpressed.

  ‘But … but I got the wicket! I took three wickets! We won the game! He should be happy,’ argued Will.

  ‘But Will, he’s the captain, not you. It’s not your call. I wouldn’t want someone going against my fielding positions.’

  There was a long silence. Will had been on a high after the win, until his run-in with Mike. Then he’d been angry. Now he was confused. He’d thought Zoe would be on his side. Couldn’t she see he was just trying to win his team the game? How was it his fault that Mike’s fielding positions weren’t good enough?

  ‘Come on girls, get active out there!’ called Zoe. Will looked at the field. It wasn’t good news for Zoe’s team. They were yet to take a wicket; their bowling was being torn apart by the South Australian girls, yet here was Zoe, arm in sling, screaming support for her teammates while Will was whining about his own. At least he could still play.

  ‘How can you sit here and watch? Doesn’t it just make you angry you’re not out there?’ asked Will.

  ‘It’s better than staying at home, feeling sorry for myself,’ said Zoe. ‘I might not be out there playing, but I’m still part of the team. It’s not all about me.’

  There was another awkward silence as Will sat and thought about Zoe’s words.

  It’s not all about me.

  Was she trying to tell him he was being self-centred or did it just feel that way? Maybe he had overstepped the mark a little. Mike was captain after all.

  ‘Sorry, Zoe. You’re right, I shouldn’t complain. And I really wish you could be out there.’

  Zoe turned and looked at him. She smiled, but her eyes were glistening just a little. They sparkled in the sunlight and Will thought for just a moment …

  She’s beautiful.

  Then she punched him in the arm. ‘Jerk!’ she said and laughed.

  ‘Ow!’ said Will. He rubbed his arm and laughed as well, puzzled.

  ‘Come on, get on that ball!’ yelled Dan Brocklehurst, their fielding coach and fitness trainer.

  Will rushed in, stopped the hard-hit ball with his forearm, then scooped it up and fired it back at Dan.

  It was training day and Will was keen to impress.

  ‘Good work, Will,’ said Dan.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Will nonchalantly, ‘but maybe we should work on our flat catching – we put down a few chances in that game against the ACT.’

  The rest of the team went quiet. Dan was a little annoyed but he was too nice to really show it.

  ‘Um, sure, we might look at that later in the week,’ said Dan. His teammates exchanged looks, but Will didn’t notice.

  Later in the practice nets, Will forgot to put on his helmet when he took up the bat against Darren.

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ asked Darren, pointing to his head. He was insulted that Will would dare enter the net and face him without his head protected.

  Will made a face. ‘Oops. Although, the way I’m playing, I probably don’t need a helmet,’ joked Will.

  ‘Maybe your head won’t fit it anyway,’ muttered Darren as Will went off to find his helmet.

  Even Shavil was taken aback by Will’s over-inflated ‘confidence’. When it was Shavil’s turn to face Darren in the nets, Will decided to give him a little advice about his stance.

  ‘Step into him, Shavil. Disrupt his length.’

  Shavil turned, his eyes flaring in disbelief.

  ‘What?’ protested Will. ‘I’m just being Mr Positivity, remember?’

  ‘You mean, Mr Egotistical,’ said Shavil. ‘Since when were you the batting coach?’

  ‘I’m just trying to help!’ said Will.

  ‘I think I know what I’m doing,’ said Shavil.

  It didn’t help when Darren bowled Shavil on the next ball. As Shavil retrieved the ball, Will could feel three words travelling from his throat to his mouth. They rolled off the end of his tongue before he could stop them, even though his head knew they were the worst words he could say right now.

  ‘Told you so.’

  Shavil’s face fell and all at once Will felt terrible. Shavil shook his head, folded his bat under his arm and left the net without another word.

  ‘Well, I did,’ said Will weakly as Shavil walked away.

  ‘What’s your problem?’ asked Darren. Will realised that things must have gotten bad if Darren was accusing him of being mean.

  For the rest of training, Will kept his mouth shut but it didn’t stop his teammates shooting dark looks in his direction. Everyone seemed to be annoyed at him but Will still didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

  Can’t they see I’m just trying to help the team?

  FISH OUT OF WATER

  Later that night as Will lay in bed staring up at his Glenn Maxwell poster, he thought back to the practice session. He still didn’t get why his teammates were so upset with him – and his teammates clearly didn’t get why he was frustrated with them.

  ‘What would you do, Maxi?’ Will asked the larger-than-life poster of Glenn Maxwell. It was an image of Maxi playing another amazing shot for the Victorian Bushrangers. Will brightened. Maxi’s answer to his question was right here in front of him, in Glenn Maxwell’s frozen moment of glory.

  I need to let my playing do the talking instead of my mouth!

  He watched Glenn Maxwell’s face morph into his own.

  I’ll show them all what I can do. I’ll go out there and play the game of my life, thought Will. I’m not a little fish; I’m a whale!

  Will was standing at the crease out in the middle of the MCG. It was the final of the T20 National Youth Shield. They were playing New South Wales and needed just four runs to win.

  ‘Come on Will, show ’em what you can do!’ shouted Shavil from the non-striker’s end.

  Will nodded and resumed strike as the bowler galloped in. The ball was rocketing towards him. Except somehow the ball looked bigger than it was supposed to. And it kept getting bigger.

  Will realised the ball wasn’t getting bigger. He was shrinking. He got smaller and smaller till he was the size of a goldfish and the ball looked as big as a boulder.

  In a flash the ball was on him. It bounced off the pitch and collected him on the way. Will held on as the ball burst through the stumps.

  ‘AAARGH!’

  The ball thudded to the ground with Will still on it and then it rolled over and over, battering him into the ground as it went. Finally, he fell off and lay in the grass panting in pain until a large head loomed over him, blocking out the sun.

  It was the giant face of the umpire.

  ‘You’re OUT!’ the umpire
boomed.

  Will couldn’t breathe. He looked down and saw that his hands were no longer hands, they were fins. His legs were no longer legs, they had merged into a long orange tail.

  I am a little fish, thought Will miserably. And I’m out … and out of water. I need water. Will flailed about on the ground, flapping his fins and swishing his tail helplessly from side to side. ‘Help!’ he screamed. ‘Someone help me!’

  But no sound came out of his little goldfish mouth.

  ‘Will what are you doing on the floor?’

  Will opened his eyes and saw his mother standing over him. It was morning and he was lying on the carpet, tangled up in his doona.

  Will remembered: today was the second group game, this one against New South Wales.

  Well, joked Will as he untangled himself from his doona, no matter what happens in the game, at least I won’t get out and turn into a fish.

  Unfortunately, Will was only half-right.

  Will stared at the umpire, watching as he slowly raised a finger into the air.

  Will was out.

  The New South Wales team jumped up and down in celebration. They had a lot to celebrate: after winning the toss they had dismissed both openers for just 19 runs. Now they had dismissed Will.

  Will stood there in total disbelief.

  When he’d arrived at the crease just five minutes ago, he’d been feeling confident. Despite watching both Shavil and Riley go cheaply (Riley to a brilliant yorker that smashed through the stumps and Shavil to a rather dubious LBW call), Will still walked out to the middle of the ground with one thing on his mind: proving that he was better than anyone else out there.

  He did all right in the first over. He managed to pull a jagging off-cutter to the fence for four and then grab three runs from a nicely angled deflection off a ball drifting outside leg stump. But when Will faced up for his second over, he decided before the ball had even left the bowler’s hand that he was going to belt it back over the bowler’s head. What Will didn’t realise was that the bowler saw him advancing down the pitch and decided to switch up the pace. Will miscued the ball completely and it struck his front pad straight in front of middle stump. There was nothing dubious about it. He was plumb.