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Authors: David Warner

Playing Up (4 page)

BOOK: Playing Up
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‘Watch and learn.' Sunil smirked as they approached the admin office.

Operation Kaboom was a go.

Sunil approached the desk of Mrs McKinley, Head of Administration, while the others waited just inside the doorway. McKinley wore coke-bottle thick glasses and was so old that nobody at school remembered a time when she
hadn't worked there. Despite looking a little like a bilby, she wasn't a bad old stick.

Sunil cleared his throat. ‘Good morning, Mrs McKinley!' he said brightly.

‘Is that you, Mr Deep?' Mrs McKinley leant forward and peered at Sunil through her glasses.

‘Yes!' Sunil smiled so his dimple showed. ‘Mr Mudge has asked for another forty copies of the band excursion form, please.'

Mrs McKinley shook her head and waggled a finger. ‘That Mr Mudge! He does keep me busy.'

‘Don't I know it!' Sunil joked.

Davey felt a teensy bit bad about hoodwinking McKinley. She might be ancient, but she was always kind.

‘I know that one.' Mrs McKinley shuffled off in slow motion to find the file. ‘Pink, if I remember correctly.'

‘Thank you,' Sunil crooned.

She licked a finger and selected a piece of pink paper from the top of the pile. ‘All right, dear.' She shuffled off down the hall. ‘I'll just copy them for you.'

Sunil waited until she was out of sight.

‘Now!' Sunil whispered.

Davey, George and Kevin sprang into action. They scuttled past the office and down the corridor as Sunil joined them.

‘That should buy us a few minutes,' Davey said, patting Sunil on the back.

The four boys crept towards the green door at the end of the corridor. The staffroom was strictly off limits to students. Nobody they knew had EVER tried to enter it without permission and lived to tell the tale.

Davey's mouth felt dry as Kevin cautiously opened the door a crack. He noticed Kevin's hand was shaking.

Kevin peered inside. ‘All clear,' he said and entered the room. The others followed close behind.

The staffroom was brightly lit, with fluorescent light shining on every desk surface. Around the sink area there were dog-eared signs about washing up on the wall and reminders about rosters. But a quick look around the room revealed no Kaboom in sight.

‘Cupboards!' Davey moved at lightning speed across the room and began to open the built-ins that lined one wall. They scoured every available storage area, but all they found were odd mugs, plates and cake platters.

‘Zilch,' George said.

‘We'd better get out of here.' Sunil glanced at the clock on the wall, ‘McKinley's not
that
slow.'

Davey was disappointed, but he nodded.

‘Er, guys . . .' George pointed to the door.

The door handle was turning. Davey looked around for somewhere to hide, but there was nowhere. On impulse, he bobbed down behind a table and pulled Sunil down with him.

‘I know you're in here,' said a familiar voice as the door opened. It was Mudge.

‘Holy moly.' George sucked in his breath. ‘We're done for.'

Mudge glared at them. Gone was the jolly teacher from the day before. Back was the cranky teacher they knew so well.

‘What do we have here? The staffroom is OUT OF BOUNDS for students!' Mudge thundered, entering the room and stopping in front of Davey and Sunil. Davey studied his long white socks and hairy knobbly knees. He stood up slowly.

‘There's a really good explanation for this, S-S-Sir,' Davey stammered. His mind raced. He was so dead they may as well have buried him right there.

‘I'm all ears, Warner.' Mudge was seething. His ears had gone such a dark shade of purple they were almost black.

‘My bat, Sir . . . The selector . . .' Davey's voice trailed off.

‘Yes?' Mudge snapped. ‘All I hear about is this bat, bat, bat! One of the things that annoys me most about cricket is the confounded bat!'

‘Sir, I need it to play,' Davey tried again to explain.

‘Warr-ner, you will be lucky if you
ever
see your stupid cricket bat again!'

Davey's eyes widened in horror. He was speechless.

‘It's just . . . please, Mr Mudge,' Sunil pleaded, ‘there's a selector coming to our cricket practice tonight. It's a big deal.'

‘Could you just give me my bat back for the night?' Davey asked, his eyes wide. ‘And then you can lock it up.'

Mudge's eyes narrowed, and his cheeks grew more and more crimson.

‘I'm sorry, boys, but you're confusing me with someone who CARES!' he exploded.

The boys stared at the floor in silence.

‘AND I'll be calling your mother now to tell her that your bat will be in my possession for some time,' Mudge added with satisfaction.

‘No!' Davey cried.

‘No?' Mudge raised an eyebrow.

‘Sir,' Davey mumbled.

Mudge rocked back and forth on his loafers. ‘Now you lot can join me for rubbish duty for the, let's see—' He made a show of pondering. ‘I think before school and lunchtime for the rest of the term ought to do it!' He grinned.

‘But—'

‘No buts, Warner!' Mudge stomped a clumpy foot for emphasis. ‘Now,
scoot
!'

‘Sir,' each of the boys mumbled as they filed past their teacher.

‘I think Mrs McKinley wants a word with you all,' Mudge added, as he frog-marched them out of the staffroom. ‘For some reason,
she has forty extra band forms photocopied for me. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Deep?'

Sunil shook his head and made his way down to the office to face the music.

CHAPTER 7
SELECTOR REJECTOR

That night, George, Davey and Sunil gathered with the rest of the Sandhill Sluggers for the extra training session at Flatter Park. As yet there was no sign of Benny, or the so-called selector.

Davey was anxious. They all were – a mixed concoction of nerves and excitement.

Davey decided to take Steve's advice. He needed to try using other bats and improve his batting that way. He had no Kaboom, so he might as well use the next best thing.

‘Can I change my mind and try your bat, Deep?' he said to Sunil.

‘Thought you'd never ask!' Sunil pulled his Kookaburra out of his kit. It was a heavier bat than Kaboom, and to Davey the weight and balance felt completely different. He ran his hand down the length of the bat, getting to know it. Like Kaboom, it had a history of the games Sunil had played imprinted in dents and marks along the willow.

Davey took a swing at an imaginary ball. It felt strange to him, so he adjusted his grip
on the handle and swung again. This time he overbalanced and nearly fell.

‘Get a grip, Warner!' he muttered to himself. ‘This is embarrassing!'

Davey got George to give him a few throw downs, to get the feel and see if he could find the sweet spot. Then he walked out to the crease and tried to find a stance that felt just right.

‘Ready?' Sunil called from the bowler's end.

‘Born ready,' Davey quipped as he moved into position.

Davey and Sunil had been playing cricket together for years and knew each other's tricks. But for the first time in a long time Davey felt unsure of himself as a batter. But he wasn't going to let Sunil know that.

Sunil ran in fast and Davey saw the tell-tale flick of his wrist. He shifted his position for the speed of the ball, but felt slow and clumsy. Sunil's fast ball seemed to fizz off the pitch and Davey just managed to jam his bat down and keep it out.

‘Nice one!' Sunil shouted.

It had been a complete fluke, but it gave Davey a little boost of confidence. The bat felt so alien that he needed to change almost everything about the way he played.

‘I'll get you this time,' Sunil said.

‘I'm shaking, Deep,' Davey replied. He nodded to Sunil to let him know he was ready. He lined himself up and focused on positive thinking.
Just think about the ball
, he told himself.

‘Prepare to eat dirt,' Sunil called out.

Sunil was on fire. He surprised Davey with another fast yorker and Davey played right over it. It cannoned into his stumps, clean bowling him.

‘What the . . . ?' Davey was dazed. The ball had sizzled straight past him and he'd been too slow to even react.

‘HOWZAT?!' Sunil exclaimed as he sprinted around in tight circles.

‘Great ball, Sunil!' Ivy called from third slip.

Davey shook his head. He just wasn't himself. Instead, he was doing a great impersonation of how to play cricket badly.

Sunil commiserated. ‘Sorry, Warner,' he said, giving his friend a slap on the back.

Davey shrugged. ‘It was a great ball.'

‘Well bowled, Sunil,' said Benny, who had just joined them in the middle. He turned to the man with him and added, ‘He's not usually so good.'

Davey realised that Benny had arrived while they were playing and had been watching with another man – the selector. Trust Benny to turn up just as he got smashed!

‘This is Rob, the selector I mentioned,' Benny said.

Davey's stomach lurched. Of all the plays for the selector to see, that would have to be the worst. Any hint of confidence Davey had got back drained away.

Benny's mobile rang as he was about to introduce Rob to each player. ‘Hang on a mo, got to take this.' He wandered off, chatting into his phone.

Rob said hello to the team with a smile and they gathered around him while he scribbled a few notes on a small notepad. There was silence as they all watched him with bated breath. Rob finished writing and scanned their expectant faces.

‘Nice to meet you,' Rob said, stepping forward to shake Sunil's hand. He shook all the players' hands in turn but didn't give Davey a second glance. His eyes were fixed on Sunil.

‘A yorker is a hard ball to pull off,' Rob said. ‘If you get it right, it can beat almost any batter.'

‘Thanks,' Sunil said. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

Rob glanced at Davey momentarily. Davey felt his face grow hot and flush with embarrassment.

‘There's probably nobody here you'd be interested in,' Benny said, then belched. He had finished his phone call and joined them again. ‘The team tries hard, but let's face it, we're not very good.' Benny hoicked up his pants. Despite his round belly, Benny was a compulsive Harry Highpants.

Rob checked his watch and shook his head. ‘I've seen enough thanks, Benny.' He turned to Sunil. ‘Can I get your name and a phone number for your parents?' He had his notebook at the ready. ‘I'd like to give them a call to have a chat about the possibility of you playing for the rep team.'

Sunil spelt out his name and gave Rob his parents' mobile numbers. ‘This is my friend, Davey Warner,' he then said, stepping to the side to introduce the selector to Davey.

Rob smiled politely and fell into conversation, asking Sunil about his cricket aspirations. Davey felt like a fish out of water.

BOOK: Playing Up
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