Читать книгу Howzat! - Brenda Munitich - Страница 5

It was a very excited team, complete with their new mascot, Spike, that drove to Seven Oaks in the minibus early on Saturday morning; Spike sported a thin, dark navy cotton jacket with SAINTS embroidered neatly in white on either side, and secured underneath with velcro. With the matching dark blue collar he looked very smart. He’d tried to scratch the jacket off at first, but he soon got used to it and trotted about, showing off and getting patted by everyone.

When they arrived at the field Brian saw that the Oaklands side – no girls in this team – were mostly black players. Very few of them were dressed in regulation whites. Most of them wore white shorts but coloured shirts. They spoke English to their visitors but Zulu amongst themselves.

“Gosh, listen to those guys babbling away in Zulu,” David said, pointing to the only two white boys in the team. “Can you speak Zulu, Brian?”

Brian shook his head. They had had a bit of it at his old school, but he could never get the hang of all the clicks. He had a sudden thought. JP speaks English well and yet I can’t speak his language at all. But then, JP doesn’t really talk to anyone.

Sometimes he’d heard Charl and Cassie speak to JP in Zulu. They could both speak it well. He’d overheard Martin say rather nastily, “That’s because they live in the sticks and they only had Zulu children to play with.”

Brian, as captain, was introduced to the team by Lucky Kunene, the opposing captain. That’s a cool thing to do, Brian thought. Most teams don’t bother about introducing the players. I must do that at matches in future. Most of the Oaklands team had names that he knew he could never hope to pronounce. Then Lucky took him across to introduce him to the Oaklands umpire, who was the father of one of the players – there didn’t seem to be a teacher around, which seemed a bit unusual. More astonishing still was the cricket field.

If it can be called a cricket field, Brian thought.

“See you just now for the toss,” Lucky said and strolled off towards his team mates. He called out to JP who trotted off and joined the Oaklands team. He must have said something funny because there was a burst of laughter from the guys. For once JP seemed lively; smiling at them all.

“Guys … check this out,” Harry called, pointing with his score book.

Brian looked to where he was pointing. The field was bounded on three sides by huge oak trees and sloped sharply to an open furrow on the fourth side. Two cows and a small flock of sheep stood calmly grazing on the far side. He looked around for Spike. “Hey Spike, come here boy, don’t you go off chasing any cows or sheep!”

“Don’t worry,” Pauline called. “Robyn and I’ll look after him.”

“Just now those animals will be on the field,” Martin said. He seemed to be in a good mood for the first time since Brian had known him.

“No, they can’t cross that furrow,” Fizz said. “Look – it’s full of water.”

They walked over. “There’s water all over the place,” said Peter. “I hope I don’t have to field here.”

No, you don’t, thought Brian. Just my luck that I’ve put Martin at third man. He touched the slip of paper in his pocket, but he didn’t need to study it. He knew the fielding plan by heart. Martin was going to be standing right near the water. He’ll think I did it on purpose.Tough, he thought, he’s going to have to get used to it.

“Let’s look at the pitch,” Brian suggested, wondering what it would be like.

It was more or less in the middle of the field, but it looked very bumpy at one end.

“You can see they have tried to roll it,” Pauline said, joining them, with Spike tucked under one arm. She pointed to the roller still standing on the pitch.

One thing about Pauline, thought Brian – she does try to find something nice to say about most things. But is this what playing cricket in the country is going to be like? he wondered glumly. Wet fields, bumpy pitches, no proper umpires?

“What do you think? Bat or bowl first?” Brian turned to Fizz.

I have no idea myself, he thought. What sort of a game will this turn out to be?

“Bowl,” said Fizz promptly. “I want to have a go at these guys!”

“Okay,” said Brian. “Maybe we can create a bit of pressure.”

“Captains for the toss please,” called Scottie.

Lucky tossed.

“Heads,” Brian called.

The coin spun, then rolled, and settled heads up.

“We’ll field,” Brian said.

“Okay,” Lucky said, shrugging casually, and went off to pad up. It didn’t seem to matter to him one way or the other.

“Why’d you do that? I hate chasing,” moaned Peter, when Brian told the rest of the team that they were fielding.

“Well, usually I’d bat first if I win the toss, but it’s hard to know with a pitch like this. Fizz thinks it’ll suit his bowling.”

“They look a scruffy lot, don’t they?” Jaco said.

“We’ll get them out quickly and we’ll have an easy chase,” Brendan said confidently. “I’m looking forward to bowling on this wicket.”

“Right, let’s go.” Brian placed his field carefully.

Martin and Jaco grumbled a bit about the wet field and he called them closer in. At least there they weren’t actually standing in water.

The first over was a disaster for Oaklands. Lucky was first in and was clean bowled by the second ball Fizz bowled. The next batsman was completely bamboozled by a bouncer, ducked under it but made the mistake of sticking his bat up like a periscope. The ball flew off the edge straight to the gully. Peter grabbed an easy catch and threw the ball high in the air, celebrating.

Oaklands were nought for two wickets. It’s too easy! Brian thought; strange things can happen in a cricket match!

The Saints were still slapping each other on the back when Rob Evans came in at number three. Fizz bowled him another bouncer for good measure, but he swayed out of its way. He blocked the next few and then ran a quick single.

Unbidden, the thought crept into Brian’s mind: I’m glad I’m not facing Fizz’s bouncers. And then, Stop it! Don’t think about it.

Brendan bowled a good over and Rob played and missed, played and missed. The ball skidded past his stumps a few times but never hit them. Even Rob seemed surprised that his wickets were still in one piece. He got an edge to a good ball and ran a couple. No matter what Fizz or Brendan did he stuck there. The runs mounted up.

“He’s not really a good bat either,” Fizz said to Brian. “The ball just doesn’t seem to get to his wicket.”

“Too many runs on the board,” said Brian, with a glance at the scoreboard. “I think you and Brendan should bowl all your overs on the trot.”

Fizz looked at Brian in surprise. “We usually bowl three, sometimes four, overs each. Then we can bowl at the end.”

“Look,” Brian said. “They had nought for two wickets. Now they’re 30 for two. And neither of them bats all that well. We should get their wickets. So let’s use our best bowlers.”

But they didn’t get any more wickets, and after 10 overs Oaklands were 45 for two.

Have I made the right decision? Brian wondered, and his uncertainty grew when Martin yelled, “It’s stupid not to change the bowlers!”

Brian put Pauline on to bowl. She was nervous and the first two balls skidded well past the leg stump. Brian was astonished that the Oaklands umpire didn’t call wides. The rest of the over was just as bad. Oaklands didn’t score but the Saints didn’t get any wickets either.

“Sorry,” Pauline muttered, “I can’t get a proper grip on the ball.”

Brian and Pauline examined the ball. It was wet and heavy.

Brian thought, Oaklands will have the same problem when we bat, and tossed the ball to Martin without much hope.

Martin didn’t bowl too badly and the score stuck on 45 for two. He began to scowl darkly. “I should get a wicket,” he said. “You should have let me bowl earlier.”

Brian ignored him and, turning to Pauline, said, “Bowl straight, and forget about trying to spin the ball. And go round the wicket just for a change in angle.”

Things didn’t get any better for the Saints and the match limped along. Martin didn’t seem to care much about how he was bowling. He was chucking the ball at the batsman without much thought. He’s not a good team man, Brian realised.

After a few more overs he took Pauline and the muttering Martin off, and Jaco and he took over in the double change. Pauline was obviously relieved.

“Sorry,” she said. “I can bowl better than this.”

Jaco nearly had Rob Evans caught off an inside edge, but the ball went hard to Wimpy’s glove and didn’t stick.

“Idiot!” shouted Martin. “Got butter on your gloves?”

At the over change Brian walked over to him. “I hope for your sake you don’t drop a catch!”

“What are you going to do about it?” Martin bristled.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just remember everyone drops catches some time.”

The runs were slow in coming and after twenty overs the score had crept up to only 50. Then Jaco took a brilliant, low catch off his own bowling and out went Rob Evans.

Brian gave a sigh of relief. He wasn’t bowling that well himself. The ball was bouncing all over the place.

Everyone crowded round, slapping Jaco on the back. “Well done mate!”

This seemed to fire Jaco up and he bowled really well for the rest of his overs.

Oaklands hardly scored any more runs and after 25 overs and the end of their innings, they had scored 55 for three.

“Fifty six! That’s all we’ve got to make! 2.2 runs per over! Should be easy,” David said. “I probably won’t even get to bat.”

JP and Peter padded up.

“Where’s your kit?” Brian asked Robyn sharply. “You must pad up as well.”

Robyn looked around rather vaguely. “Oh – I left it in the bus.”

Brian turned away, irritated. “You must pad up. You know you are batting three today.” Really … girls! He went to get his own kit. You never know with a game of cricket. Wickets can fall pretty quickly.

He saw Robyn lug her bag across the grass, open it and plunge her hand inside. There was a shrill scream. She began to swat the air around her in panic.

“It stung me! It stung me!” She jumped up and down, doing a war dance, shaking her hand and yelling.

Trust a girl to make such a fuss! thought Brian.

“A wasp,” she gasped. “In my bag!” As Brian got closer he saw that her hand was starting to swell. She was scratching madly at the back of her middle finger on her right hand. A wasp buzzed around angrily.

Scottie ran over. “Let me see.”

“Oh … oooh,” wailed Robyn hysterically, “I’m allergic to bee and wasp stings!” She burst into tears.

“Right,” Scottie said decisively. “Off we go then. Straight to the doctor.” He bundled her into the school bus and drove off.

“Who’s going to umpire?” asked the Oaklands umpire. “I can’t handle two ends!”

It seemed that the match would end there and then. Just the sort of thing to expect with girls in the team, Brian thought.