Glenn Maxwell 2 Read online

  ‘Hey, Willster, you can sit with me if you like.’

  Did he just call me Willster? Only Zoe calls me that. ‘Um … that’s all right, I need a window seat. I, um, get motion sickness.’

  ‘I could sit on the outside,’ offered Brock.

  ‘That’s okay,’ said Will, hurrying off to find another seat. He just needed to be as far away from Brock as possible. Besides, he wanted to save a seat for Shavil. While Shavil seemed to have finally forgiven him for the run-out, Will wanted to make it up to him. And the two-hour drive would be pretty boring if he had to sit by himself.

  But a moment later, Will’s plan was thwarted. ‘Hey, Shavil, you can sit with me if you like,’ he heard Brock say.

  ‘Cool, thanks!’

  That’s just perfect, thought Will. He turned to face the window. It was going to be a long trip.

  ‘Perfect day for cricket, hey?’ said Jack.

  Will looked around and had to agree. Despite the cold, it was another sunny, cloudless day. The Shepparton training centre wasn’t brand-new but it had been recently renovated and extended. Will spotted a Victorian T20 Youth Academy flag, just like the one at their centre in St Kilda, and the academy’s motto was engraved on a stone plaque beneath a bronze statue of a batsman. It read: Team above self. Heart above all else.

  They make it sound easy, thought Will. But he was starting to think that being a selfless player wasn’t that simple – especially when you were trying to stand out and get selected for the state team.

  I bet Maxi doesn’t have to worry about this stuff. He always looks so calm when he’s batting for the Stars or Australia. Will would do anything to be able to bat like Glenn Maxwell – then he wouldn’t have to worry about getting selected. He’d be the number-one pick!

  The city squads made their way down to the oval. The grandstand on the eastern side, and the hillside opposite, were both already filling up with people. There was a charity sausage sizzle cooking away, while volunteers handed out academy showbags and balloons. It was a stark contrast to the city game that had mostly attracted families of the players and academy officials. There was noise and music and colour everywhere, and it looked like half of Shepparton had turned up. It felt more like a country fair than a cricket match.

  ‘Good crowd for a junior game,’ said Dan Brocklehurst, the academy’s fielding instructor and the coach of City B. ‘All right, City B, come with me for a quick warm-up in the nets. City A, you have some time to yourselves for the moment.’

  Will and some of the other City A players went to get a sausage sandwich and sit on the hill to watch the first match. Country A were up against City B, which Will realised meant his old nemesis, Killer McKinnon, would be up against his newest rival, Brock Anderson.

  This should be interesting, Will thought as the teams came out for the toss. He recognised Darren straight away, except it looked like he had grown another ten centimetres in the few months since the camp. Country A won the toss and Darren chose to send City B in to bat.

  The City A players left the oval and a few moments later Brock and his opening partner came jogging out, padded up and carrying their helmets. If he was nervous, Brock didn’t look it. He was joking and laughing.

  Will looked over at Darren, who was warming up by bouncing the ball hard into the turf. I wonder if one of those bouncers has Brock’s name on it? he thought.

  Will’s question was answered when Killer ran in and delivered the first ball. It was a bouncer and it shot from Darren’s arm like a bullet from a gun.

  But Brock showed no signs of panic. He quickly moved to his back foot, leapt high and hooked through the air, smashing the ball through the covers for four. The crowd cheered and Brock grinned. The next ball was another short delivery that sprung up off the deck. Brock spun off his back foot again and produced a powerful cut shot with the full face of the bat. The ball disappeared through extra cover. Another boundary.

  Has Killer lost his edge? The Darren he knew from camp would be cursing and kicking the dirt right about now. Instead, he was calmly walking back to his run-up mark. He’s definitely planning something, thought Will.

  A moment later, Darren let loose a perfectly pitched off-cutter that tore through Brock’s off stump like a chainsaw.

  ‘Yes!’ growled Darren, running down the pitch and waving his finger in Brock’s face.

  ‘Yes!’ Will leapt to his feet, drawing curious stares from the rest of the City A players, including Shavil. ‘I mean, oh no,’ Will said unconvincingly. ‘That’s too bad.’

  He sat back down and watched Brock begin the long walk back from the pitch.

  Am I really happy that Brock is out? Will wasn’t sure how he should feel. What sort of team player does that make me?

  The academy motto ran through his head: Team above self. Heart above all else.

  Right now Will felt about as selfish and heartless as he could get and he still had to go out and play for City A. Would he fare any better than Brock? And if he didn’t, would Brock take delight in his dismissal too?

  DESPERATE TIMES

  ‘This is hopeless, we’ll never get these guys out,’ Mike said as another ball disappeared over the fence for six.

  Will, who was thankfully fielding at short leg, offered a sympathetic but unhelpful shrug.

  Once again the City A bowling attack was lacking teeth. After Country A had gone on to a comprehensive mauling of City B, much to the crowd’s delight, Country B seemed inspired to do the same.

  ‘The crowd’s growing,’ Jack observed before City A took to the field. ‘They’ve all shown up for a bit of old-fashioned city-country rivalry. Don’t let me down, fellas. You need to redeem us city slickers!’

  The winter wind was blowing in from the south and, to make matters worse, the sky had clouded over to block the midday sun – along with any hope of redemption for the city squads. Country B had won the toss and elected to bat, which was a good decision given their current position of none for 53.

  ‘Maybe we need to try something different,’ Will said finally as the desperation on Mike’s face continued to grow with each run-making shot from the two impressive openers.

  ‘Maybe you could try bowling,’ said Mike.

  ‘Me?’ sputtered Will. ‘I’m not a bowler, I’m an opener.’

  ‘You’re on the team, aren’t you? And, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re not doing too well.’ Mike looked at him. ‘I’ve seen you bowl in the nets. You aren’t too bad.’

  ‘I’m not that good, either,’ said Will.

  ‘Like you said, we need to try something different,’ said Mike. ‘Come on, just one over.’

  ‘Okay, but this could get ugly,’ said Will.

  They both watched the next delivery get slotted through a gap for another boundary.

  ‘It already is,’ said Mike.

  Will took the ball at the end of the over and nervously turned it over in his hands. Shavil, who was fielding at long-off, threw up his arms in confusion. Will shrugged. He didn’t know what he was doing. If none of the other bowlers had succeeded, what good could he do? Still, he had to try for the team.

  Team above self, he thought. Here goes nothing. What ball do I try first?

  Will decided to send down an attempted topspinner and watched it quickly disappear through the covers for four.

  Oops. That didn’t work.

  He looked back down the wicket and saw the Country B batsman grinning from ear to ear.

  Okay, now what? Stick with the stock ball.

  He bowled an off-break that failed to get much spin or pace. The batsman picked it easily, slapping it back through the leg side. It raced away to the boundary.

  Will dropped his head.

  ‘Don’t lose heart, Will,’ said Mike, tossing him the ball. ‘Keep at ’em.’

  Heart? Heart above all else.

  Will sucked in a breath of air and squeezed the ball hard in his hand.

  Okay, anticipate. He wants to smash you. Another off-break wi
th more pace may get him.

  As Will moved in to bowl, he noticed the batsman pushing forward in the crease.

  He wants to drive me. All right, then, drive this!

  Will dropped the ball in shorter this time with as much pace and flight as he could muster. The batsman was heading down the pitch before he realised. He swung at the ball and missed. City A’s wicketkeeper, ‘Lil’ Benny Huynh, the only player in the team shorter than Will, took the ball cleanly and broke through the bails just as the batter stretched his leg back to stay in the crease. The bails clattered to the ground while the toe of his boot was still in the air.

  ‘Howzat!’ cried Benny.

  The leg umpire slowly raised his finger, and all nine fielders and Benny leapt into the air. They finally had their first wicket.

  Mike rushed over. ‘You’re a total genius, Will! Great ball.’

  Will smiled, stunned. I can’t believe I just did that.

  He had taken one or two wickets in club cricket but he had always focused more on his batting. He’d never considered himself a serious bowler. Now, as the rest of the team jumped all over him in celebration, he started to realise what he’d been missing out on. While it hadn’t been pretty, and was probably just as much due to Benny’s good keeping, Will had to admit that taking a wicket for the team felt pretty awesome.

  SHAVIL SAVES THE DAY

  Will and Shavil ran out to the middle of the ground, swinging their bats and feeling a little more hopeful about rescuing the match. Will’s wicket had led to a mini-collapse. While Will hadn’t taken any more wickets himself, the breakthrough gave the team the motivation they needed to throw everything they had at the batsmen.

  Suddenly, the fast bowlers were bowling faster and with more venom. The fielders stepped up as well. Half-chances turned into catches, and balls that had been rolling away to the boundary were now being chased down and cut off. Country B had still managed a very respectable seven for 147, but at least City A were still in the game.

  ‘So what’s the game plan?’ asked Shavil as they stood in the middle before the second innings got underway.

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

  ‘Sounds familiar.’

  It was the same thing Will had said in their first proper match together at the Academy Cricket Camp, and for the first five overs against Country B, that is exactly what Will and Shavil did.

  From the first, Will cut loose – literally. He was playing cut shots left and right. Then he drove the last ball for a massive six to end the first over. No trying to retain the strike this time, he’d learnt his lesson.

  While Shavil took a few balls to settle on the second over, he did much the same as Will, finding the boundary on three occasions. Suddenly, it became The Will and Shavil Show – Will would smash boundaries, then Shavil would smash them in the next over. They even began to match each other’s strokes. When Shavil hooked a ball over the fence, Will did the same. When Will played a great reverse sweep shot and sent it running to the boundary, Shavil would replicate the shot with the same result so as not to be outdone. It was the Country B bowlers who were now feeling the pressure.

  Will and Shavil met in the middle between overs. ‘This is fun,’ Shavil panted.

  ‘Yeah, but we’re only on 45,’ warned Will. ‘We have a long way to go. One of us has to try to hang around till the end.’ He didn’t say what he was thinking – that he needed to be there at the end if he wanted to make the state team.

  ‘No problem. Just don’t run me out.’

  Will looked at Shavil’s face and saw a large, cheeky grin. He shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be making that mistake again.’

  But in the very next over, Will found a hole through the covers and decided to turn for a second run. He was halfway down the pitch when he saw that Shavil wasn’t coming back. Will skidded to a halt just as the Country B bowler caught the throw from the outfield and slammed the ball through the stumps. Will helplessly watched the bails tumble as he stretched out towards the crease. The umpire lifted his finger.

  Will turned to see Shavil’s face drop. He looked more devastated than Will felt. Shavil threw his arms in the air and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’

  Will shrugged. He knew Shavil hadn’t run him out deliberately. It was just another silly mix-up. He headed off the oval, giving Shavil a fist pump as he went.

  Shavil nodded.

  ‘You played well,’ said Jack as Will took his seat with the team. ‘Just remember to look when you turn for the run.’

  Will nodded. He’d made a quick-fire 25 but he hadn’t gone on with it. For the second match in a row, he felt like he’d blown a good start. At least Shavil is still out there, he thought.

  But as the innings wore on, Will began to have mixed feelings as Shavil continued to dominate the Country B bowlers. Shavil settled into a nice batting rhythm. He found the boundary again and again, mostly by finding gaps in the field rather than taking risky shots through the air. While other batsmen fell around him, Shavil pushed on, anchoring the team through to the end. He top-scored at 85 not out and even found one more boundary to grab the winning runs.

  Will stood and applauded Shavil with the rest of the team, but he couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment. Shavil had proven his worth, and even though Brock had failed today, he’d proven his class in his first match. Not to mention the Country B openers, who had both been outstanding early in the first innings. Will’s dream of being selected as an opener for the state team began to feel more and more distant.

  ‘Well done today,’ said Will as they headed back home on the coach. At least he and Shavil were sitting together for the return trip.

  Shavil grinned. ‘Thanks, I was just trying to keep up with you. I’m not usually that aggressive. You really led the way early.’

  ‘Till I blew it again with the running, you mean.’ Will forced a smile.

  ‘That was my fault,’ said Shavil. ‘I should have come back for the second. I didn’t mean it, though, I promise.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I guess we’re even now, hey?’

  Will laughed and then turned to look out the window. He didn’t feel like they were even, he felt like he was being left behind. Will watched the sun disappear behind the hills and wondered if his chances of making the state team were disappearing too.

  SMELLS LIKE TEEN …

  ‘Hello? Anyone home?’

  Will’s dad attempted to open Will’s bedroom door but there was something blocking it. He stuck his head through the crack and peered into the darkness.

  ‘My God, what is that smell?’ he said, screwing up his nose. ‘Will, I’m seriously worried that you or something else may be dead and decomposing in here. I’m coming in!’

  His dad pushed the door open, shifting the mountain of dirty clothes and cricket gear in front of it.

  ‘Will, are you in here somewhere?’

  A moan came from beneath Will’s doona.

  ‘Aha! You are alive. I was a worried there for a minute. Just let me know, are you okay? Do you need medical assistance? Give one groan for no, two for yes.’

  This time there was a loud, angry groan.

  ‘Oof, I’m opening the window. It reeks in here.’ Will’s dad pulled up the blind, then pushed open the window with a shuddering squeak. ‘Have you been using the deodorant your mum got you?’

  Will didn’t answer.

  His dad pushed a pile of clothes and some books off Will’s chair and sat down. ‘So how was school today?’

  No answer.

  ‘Great, good to hear. And what about the country match on the weekend – how did that go?’

  Again, no answer.

  ‘Really? That’s fantastic – you had a win. Your mum says you took a wicket?’

  This time there was a mumbled, throaty, ‘Yep.’

  ‘Ah, there’s the eloquent son I know and love. I do so enjoy our father-son chats.’

  More silence, followed by a snort.
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  ‘Will, aren’t you supposed to be heading off to training?’

  ‘Too tired,’ moaned Will. ‘Headache. Think I’m getting sick.’

  ‘Hmm. I think, considering the amazing opportunity you’ve been given to attend the academy, you should do your best to get to every training session.’

  ‘What’s the point?’ Will mumbled from beneath the doona.

  ‘Ah, I see. Questioning life and existence, are we? The point is, Will, that you have a talent and you owe it to yourself to develop that talent.’

  ‘What if I’ve developed it as far as I can? What if I’m just not that good?’

  Will’s dad pulled the doona down to reveal his son’s worried face. ‘That’s okay, just as long as you give it everything you’ve got. Otherwise, you’ll always wonder “What if …”. Come on, I’ll give you a lift to the centre.’

  Will sighed. ‘Okay.’

  ‘And, Will …’ his dad said gently.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Have a shower. You really stink.’

  After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Will’s dad dropped him off at the training centre. He still had twenty minutes before his first session began, so he grabbed a spare lane with the automatic bowler. Hitting balls in the nets always helped to clear his mind.

  WHACK!

  Is Dad right? wondered Will.

  WHACK!

  Do I just have to give it everything I’ve got?

  WHACK!

  And what is my ‘everything’?

  He had one more chance to prove his worth as an opener in the final squad game against Country A in two weeks’ time. And he would have to give it everything he had to take on Killer McKinnon and come out on top.

  ‘Hey, Willster!’

  THWAP!

  Will looked around and missed, the ball thudding into the back of the net. ‘Hey,’ he said, turning his attention back to the bowling machine.