Читать книгу Howzat! - Brenda Munitich - Страница 4

The next day the list of schools they were to play went up on the board.

U13 MIDLANDS LEAGUE – HOME TEAMS FIRST

Oh no – look at this. Only one home game!” David shouted to the others, pointing to the notice board. “Against Blackridge.”

Most of the team crowded around the board.

“I suppose the big guys are using the oval. They seem to get first choice in everything!” Jaco grumbled, looking up from a cell phone that he was fingering.

“Well, there’s the pitch for mini-cricket if you want to play on that,” David joked. “Or maybe you should stick to those games on your cell phone.”

“Yeah, right.” Jaco was unimpressed. “At least I’ve got one to play on!”

“Even if it is a brick,” said David. “It’s ancient history!”

Jaco lifted the phone as though to throw it at David, who ducked.

“Oaklands,” Brian ran his finger down the list and turned to Fizz. “What are they like?”

“Dunno, just a church school at Seven Oaks,” Fizz shrugged. “I know a guy who goes there – Lucky Kunene – he played in the league with us.” He turned to JP. “Isn’t that where he said he went?”

JP grunted what Brian guessed was a ‘yes’.

This guy never talks, thought Brian. He never jokes around like the others. I wonder what his problem is?

“Hey guys,” Harry came running up. “Brian has this great little dog called Spike that plays cricket with him. He fields and all. What about if we use him for a mascot? He can come on the bus with us!”

“Great idea,” said Fizz. “He can be our 13th man!” He roared with laughter. “Imagine if we sent him onto field! I wonder what the umpire would say?”

“How will everyone know he’s our mascot?” asked David.

“He’ll have to wear our school cap,” Jaco chipped in.

“Oh man, you guys are ridiculous. He’ll never keep a cap on! Let’s rather make him a jacket to wear,” Wimpy suggested. “You know, with straps and things to keep it on.”

“Yeah – and we can write ‘st Barnabas’ on it,” said Harry.

“No – just ‘SAINTS’,” said Wimpy. “Everyone calls us that.”

“What about sewing it on?” Brian asked Robyn who had strolled up to join them. “You know, with that embroidery stuff?”

Robyn laughed. “Me? Are you asking me to sew? I hate sewing. Tell me something – do I have a label sewn on my back that says ‘I AM A GIRL. I SEW AND COOK’? Labels are dangerous things, my mother always tells me.” She stared thoughtfully at Brian. “Why don’t you sew it on?”

Really, she can be annoying! Brian thought.

Wimpy shrugged and gave him a sympathetic smile.

The twins are so different, Brian thought, Wimpy is laid- back, even easy going … while Robyn enjoys mocking everyone, especially the guys.

“I’ll ask my mom to do it then,” Brian said huffily.

Later Scottie made them sit for a team photograph.

“I hate having my photo taken!” Jaco grumbled.

“Scared your nose’ll look too big, are you?” David taunted him.

“Enough!” said Scottie firmly. “Just do it.”

Afterwards Cassie showed Scottie a drawing Charl had done of the team. Scottie looked at it for a long time.

“This is really very good, Charl,” he said. “I didn’t realise we had such a talent in our class.”

“Oh, he’s always been good at art, sir,” Cassie said. “He won an art prize when he was only five.”

Scottie pinned it on the board for everyone to see.

“It’s much better than a photograph, sir,” Pauline said.

Charl beamed with pleasure.

At practise on Friday Scottie said, “Charl will be twelfth man for this game, but he will play next week. Cassie has softball so she can’t play. Brian will captain the side. And I hear we have a mascot called Spike!”

Brian was pleased to be named captain. Martin pulled a face, and childishly stuck his tongue out at Brian, but no one else seemed to mind.

After practise Scottie called Brian aside and said, “I expect my captain to help improve the team – work on the bad points, and of course you must decide on the batting order and set the field at the matches.”

On the whole, Brian thought, the batters are not too bad. JP and Peter are by far the best, and I suppose Robyn is very steady and can give any loose balls a good whack. Even against some of the Colts bowlers she wouldn’t be too bad. This was a rather reluctant thought. Martin, David and I are fair all-rounders. But all the batters need better balance.

“To improve our batting we need to improve our balance,” he suggested to the team. “Our coach at Colts made us skip a lot for better balance. Maybe everyone needs to skip every day, say about a thousand.”

“You’re crazy,” Martin sneered. “If you think I’m going to skip like some girl because you say so, then you can think again!” He stalked off.

Brian ignored him. The bowlers are okay, he thought. Fizz, Brendan, Jaco and Pauline. That’s four. With me, Martin and David able to bowl as well, we should be okay. Of course there’s Wimpy. He’s not a bad wicky, and a happy-go-lucky sort of bat.

“We’ll skip too,” Brendan said. “Boxers skip to get fit. So can we.”

“Charl and Cassie were home schooled, you know,” Fizz said to Brian on the last day before their match as they watched Peter showing Charl how to hold his elbow high when using a forward defensive shot.

They were waiting for practise to start and most of the team were fooling around.

“They have hardly played cricket, and I don’t think Charl has played rugby before,” Fizz went on.

Brian had never heard of home schooling.

“They were taught by Cassie’s mom on the farm where they live,” Fizz explained. “Both of their dads are farm managers for one of the big timber companies, but they used to come to town twice a week to play some sport, and especially for Cassie’s softball, I suppose.”

“And for some social life,” David said. “They live really far away. But now with the new boarding house they can come to school.”

That’s why they are both so shy, thought Brian.

Peter was showing Charl the backward defensive shot, and then how to get down on one knee and sweep the ball.

“You can use that shot against a spinner,” Peter said, “just make sure you don’t miss it.”

Brian thought, There’s someone who’s always ready to help somebody else. I really should have thought of giving him some coaching myself.

He walked over to his tog bag and flipped it open to get his pads out.

“Hey, what’s that?” Fizz asked.

“What’s what?”

“That writing on the flap.”

Brian laughed, embarrassed but pleased. The whole scene flashed through his mind.

I’ve just made 60 not out in my last game for the Natal Colts. I walk into the dressing room, pleased and happy with myself, when I see two of my team mates huddled over my bag and whispering to each other.

“Look, let’s put two ‘o’s and a ‘t’ here … see what it says …” The guys roar with laughter.

“Quick – before he comes!”

I am angry. I see the one guy with a thick black koki pen in his hand, writing on the inside flap of my bag. I run across to see what they have done. Written in bold letters is:

Foot S A C C

I’m furious, and lash out at them with my bat. It’s bad enough that I’m going, leaving the Colts! I don’t need to be helped on my way.

The two guys back off hurriedly.

“Look mate, it’s only a joke.”

“We overheard the selectors saying that it was a pity that you were leaving because he thought you might have the pot …”

“Potential to be a future South African cricket captain. So we were just going to write FSACC on your bag – you know, Future South African Cricket Captain – a sort of send-off, you see – and then we saw that if we added …”

It ends with the three of us howling with laughter. And I’ll never manage to get that writing off.

Fizz peered at the lettering. “It says …”

“Just something one of my mates wrote when I left the Colts.” Brian didn’t want to explain. He closed his bag.

Fizz looked at him strangely, but didn’t say anything else. Brian didn’t even try to explain. Best to forget that if I could have stayed in Durban … then … maybe … one day …

Oh well, he thought, I’m here and I’ll have to get used to it!