Representative Clash Read online

  About the Book

  Tommy is a huge hitter and loves nothing more than smashing balls out of the park with his impressive handmade bat. He’s a diehard Hobart Hurricanes fan and has his fingers crossed he will be selected for the Hobart representative team that will take on Adelaide in the upcoming Adelbart Clash.

  But when Tommy’s bat goes missing he can feel his chances slipping away. It’s up to his friends to help him find his bat so he can chase his place on the rep team!

  CONTENTS

  COVER

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  TITLE PAGE

  CHAPTER 1: THE WALL

  CHAPTER 2: RALPH, MOLLY AND LAZARUS

  CHAPTER 3: THE WOOD CHOP

  CHAPTER 4: BIGGEST HIT

  CHAPTER 5: LET THE TRIALS BEGIN

  CHAPTER 6: THE MISSING BAT

  CHAPTER 7: THE TRUTH

  CHAPTER 8: PASS THE PARCEL

  CHAPTER 9: A LITTLE BIT OF MAGIC

  CHAPTER 10: RALPH’S REVENGE

  CHAPTER 11: DAN’S MESSAGE

  COPYRIGHT NOTICE

  Friday afternoon

  THUD!

  Stepping onto his front foot, Tommy King slammed the ball into the brick wall. Dropping his bat, he reached down with his left hand, stopping the ball as it rebounded towards him before collecting it neatly in his fingers.

  ‘Two,’ he muttered to himself, taking note of the score. ‘The Hobart Hurricanes need something big from Dan Christian,’ he added, picking up his bat again.

  Dan Christian was an all-rounder – he could bat, bowl and field. He’d hit a 117-metre monster six onto the Gabba roof a few years ago.

  ‘Tommy, we’re leaving in five minutes,’ his dad called from the back door of the house. ‘Make sure you’ve got all your library books.’

  Tommy was a big, broad-shouldered boy with sandy coloured hair. He towered over his friends and even some of his teachers at Mount Lofty Primary School.

  ‘No worries, Dad.’ Tommy spun the bat in his huge hands. ‘Pressure’s right on, now,’ he said to himself. He loved to commentate during his games. Tommy hurled the ball firmly at the wall again, took hold of his massive bat and then stepped back, eyes lighting up. It had caught the angled section of bricks, so instead of rebounding back at him hard, it ballooned gently into the air. ‘Perfect,’ Tommy breathed, swinging lustily. The ball travelled three or four metres before crashing into the huge tree to his right. ‘Six!’ he cried. ‘Can you believe this? Dan Christian is destroying the Adelaide Strikers’ attack. Three balls to go and now just nine runs to win. There’s nothing that Michael Neser can do.’

  Michael Neser was also an all-rounder who won the Adelaide Strikers Most Valuable Player award in BBL|03.

  Tommy loved playing T20 Big Bash matches at the wall. It was the perfect set-up for a game of cricket. The red brick wall was actually the rear of the house. It was five metres wide and almost as high with the angled ridge he liked to aim for about a metre off the ground.

  The rules were simple. Throw the ball at the side of the house, then play your stroke back into the wall. If your throw hit the angled ridge, you could play a pull or hook shot into the plum tree to the left, or smash a cut shot into the old wooden garage to the right. More runs could be scored by getting the ball to the veggie patch or, even better, to the wooden fence behind.

  ‘C’mon, Kane,’ Tommy mumbled. ‘What have you got?’ He tossed the ball, again hitting the angled bricks. ‘Oh, can you believe it, another slow ball!’ Tommy repeated the shot, if anything hitting it even harder. A shower of small green berries rained down onto his head, but no tennis ball. Tommy groaned, glaring up into the tree. It didn’t happen often, but a lost ball meant the entire team was disqualified. Then down it came, along with a few last berries. ‘Yes!’ he cried, gathering up the ball. ‘It’s a six after all. And just when the Adelaide Strikers thought they had their man.’

  Tommy stroked the next ball elegantly into the base of the wall and it came back at pace, past his outstretched hand and rolled into the veggie patch. ‘That’ll do it,’ he said. ‘And it’s another win for the Hobart Hurricanes.’

  ‘How are my veggies?’ Tommy’s dad asked, as the car reversed slowly down the steep driveway. The whole King family was taking a trip into town. Tommy’s older sister, Mel, needed some supplies for school.

  ‘Good as gold, Dad,’ Tommy said, looking up from his scorebook. ‘Another brilliant knock from Dan Christian,’ he added, totalling up his score. Tommy had a great mind for numbers. He was able to remember all the scores the players made, which meant that play wasn’t slowed down by him having to record them during the game. ‘Tim Paine did okay too,’ he added.

  ‘Do the Hobart Hurricanes ever lose?’ his mum asked from the front seat.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ Tommy’s dad queried. ‘And when was the last time that happened?’

  Tommy noticed his parents were both smiling. ‘Hmm, let’s see now.’ Tommy flicked back through his scorebook.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ his mum said with a grin.

  ‘As if Tommy would ever let the Hobart Hurricanes lose,’ Mel said. She went to the local high school. She was sporty, popular and loved reading. ‘Anyway, what’s the point of playing if you know who’s going to win every time?’

  ‘But I don’t know who’s going to win every time,’ Tommy said, turning to his sister. ‘Especially the games when the Hobart Hurricanes aren’t playing,’ he added.

  ‘Oh, so you do actually play games that don’t involve the ’Canes?’ His dad laughed.

  ‘Sure I do,’ Tommy replied. ‘Anyway, there was a game last year when the ball got stuck in the gutter. The Hobart Hurricanes had to forfeit and lost to the Sydney Sixers.’

  ‘I remember that,’ Mel said, clapping her hands. ‘You were crying.’

  ‘Was not,’ Tommy retorted.

  ‘Were so,’ Mel persisted. ‘Wasn’t he, Mum?’

  ‘Well, I do remember you were pretty upset one time.’

  ‘It was because I lost the ball and I hurt my hand, remember, Dad?’

  ‘Of course I do. Nearly lost half your finger,’ he said as he winked into the rear-view mirror.

  ‘Show me the scar,’ Mel said, grabbing her brother’s hand.

  ‘Gone now.’ Tommy shrugged, holding up his hands.

  ‘Righto, so you nearly lost your finger and 12 months later the scar’s gone?’

  ‘He was a top surgeon, yeah, Dad?’

  ‘Amazing, son,’ Tommy’s dad said as he pulled up outside the Hobart library.

  ‘Honestly, you lot. Tommy, you’ll have an hour at the library, no more, okay? We’ll pick you up on our way back from town,’ Tommy’s mum said.

  ‘No worries.’ Tommy finished jotting in the final scores of his latest BBL game and closed the book, before jumping out of the car and running to the library entrance.

  Tommy loved visiting the Hobart library. They were still trying to fix the Internet connection at home, so any chance he got to use free wi-fi and watch videos of old cricket matches was not to be missed.

  ‘Hi Lauren,’ Tommy said to the friendly librarian as he bounded through the main doors.

  ‘How’s the cricket going?’ Lauren always asked him about his cricket. Lauren had a boy in the same year as Tommy called Lazarus. He loved cricket as much as Tommy did, but couldn’t play in regular competitions as he was in a wheelchair. Lauren and a few other parents were trying to organise some sort of opportunity for him, but Tommy knew it would be hard to find enough kids in wheelchairs in Hobart who wanted to play cricket.

  ‘It’s good, Lauren. Got the trials for the Adelbart Clash next week so I’m pretty pumped about that.’

 
‘Oh yes, now I read something about that. Adelaide versus Hobart, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah. They’re going to pick one kid from 12 different city schools and 12 different country schools to play in a City versus Country Clash game. The winning team gets to play a rep side from South Australia in the Adelbart Clash. I reckon they should have used BBL names though, not the city names. Like called it the Hurristrike Cup.’

  Lauren nodded. She loved books and anything to do with words. ‘Or it could have been called the Strikanes Cup.’ They looked at each other and laughed. ‘No, maybe not.’

  ‘Yeah. Actually, Adelbart works okay, doesn’t it?’ Tommy said.

  Tommy walked over to the row of computers and logged in. He came across a video of the top ten funniest cricket dismissals. He laughed out loud as he watched a guy playing in a village cricket match in England swing so hard at a wide delivery that he lost his balance, landing flat on his face. Somehow his bat crashed into the stumps, completely flattening them all. The bowlers, fielders, umpire and even his teammate at the other end were all laughing. And to top it off, the batter himself started to giggle.

  It was then that Tommy sensed someone watching him. He swung round. Sure enough, there was Ralph and his mean sidekick, Molly. Both were shaking their heads.

  Friday afternoon

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Ralph sneered. ‘Shouldn’t you be out practising with your special, magic bat?’

  Ever since Tommy had brought his bat to school, some kids, and Ralph especially, had laughed and teased him about it. And not just because Tommy called it his magic bat. It was also huge – bigger and heavier than any bat anyone had ever seen. But Tommy’s dad had checked with two different cricket officials and both had announced it as legal – if a bit heavy for someone so young.

  The smile quickly left Tommy’s face. Ralph and Molly both went to Mount Lofty and rarely did either of them have a nice word to say about anyone.

  Ralph seemed to be the leader. He was small, thin-lipped and freckle-faced with short hair that appeared to have been cut in a hurry. Strands hung down over his eyes so you never quite knew what he was thinking.

  Molly was taller, also with short brown hair. She had arrived at the start of the year. For some reason, Ralph had taken a liking to her and she’d fallen under his spell. Tommy had never seen her smile. She scowled as if the world owed her something. Tommy sometimes wondered if underneath she was actually a nice person. Maybe she followed Ralph around because he was tough. Or rich. Ralph lived in a huge house and often boasted about his indoor swimming pool and gymnasium, along with a tennis court and three-hole golf course on their property.

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ Tommy said, flicking the screen off.

  ‘Aw, c’mon, Tommy. Can’t we see too? I feel like a laugh, don’t you, Molly?’ Tommy looked up sharply, as though they’d been reading his thoughts about never seeing Molly smile. Sighing, Tommy flicked the screen back on and hit the play button. Despite the two of them standing behind him, watching over his shoulder, Tommy smiled again as the momentum of the batter’s humungous swing lifted him off the ground.

  Tommy stole a glance at them both out of the corner of his eye. Neither of them appeared amused.

  ‘Yeah, so that was all. Wasn’t that funny, was it?’ Tommy hated him self for not having the guts to say that he thought it was hilarious. He closed his eyes briefly, wishing he could blink Ralph and Molly away. Well, Ralph anyway. Maybe Molly on her own would be different.

  ‘So, big feller,’ Ralph said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. Tommy sighed. ‘Hey, don’t you want to chat with the most popular kid in the school?’ Tommy looked over at Molly. She was staring off into the distance. They’d come here knowing that Tommy often visited the library on a Friday afternoon. Tommy didn’t think the city library was on Ralph’s top ten favourite places to visit.

  ‘Whatever,’ Tommy muttered. Tommy had a feeling he knew what Ralph wanted to talk about. Cricket, and in particular, who’d be selected to play for the Hobart City team.

  ‘So, about the Clash selections,’ Ralph began, lowering his voice. Tommy knew what was coming. He and Ralph were easily the best two cricketers at Mount Lofty. They probably spent the same amount of time at home playing cricket. Tommy with his brick wall, veggie patch and scorebook, and Ralph with his indoor cricket nets, personal cricket coach and bowling machine.

  This hadn’t been a problem until the selection committee decided that only one person from each school that nominated a player could join the Hobart City team to play the Country team.

  ‘Yeah, well I’ve been thinking, you could make this a lot easier for everyone by pulling out. Get injured or something. That way, no one’s going to pay you out for not being good enough.’ Ralph sat back in his chair with a smug grin on his face.

  ‘Nah, I’ll have a crack,’ Tommy replied, finally. ‘If you get chosen, fair enough.’

  Ralph leant in closer. ‘Listen to me, dunderhead. I don’t think you’re getting it. I can bat, I can bowl, I can keep and I can field anywhere they want to put me.’ Ralph stole a glance at Molly. She was nodding in agreement. ‘You, on the other hand, can bat and that’s it. You’ve got nothing else for them. Man, I’m doing you a favour.’

  ‘I can bat good, Ralph. I can bat really good,’ Tommy said, hoping his voice wasn’t displaying the nerves he was suddenly feeling.

  ‘Sure you can bat good, Tommy boy. I get that. But I’m streets ahead of you in all other areas.’

  ‘I go all right in the slips and I can roll my arm over too.’

  ‘Tommy, you can’t run.’

  ‘Not everyone on the team is going to be a gun fielder or have to bowl,’ Tommy argued.

  Molly sighed. For a moment Tommy thought she was about to say something.

  ‘Listen, I’m trying to make this easy for you. There’s plenty of other options I can put into play,’ Ralph said.

  ‘Like what?’ Tommy glanced around, hoping his raised voice hadn’t attracted any attention. He saw Lazarus talking with his mum at the front counter. Their eyes met but Tommy looked away. He didn’t want Lazarus coming over while Ralph and Molly were here. But it was too late. Lazarus was making his way towards them.

  ‘Just do yourself a favour and make sure you’re not around next Monday,’ Ralph said firmly.

  ‘Or what?’ Tommy asked. He could feel his cheeks flush.

  Ralph glanced across at the fast approaching Lazarus. ‘I’ll think of something, Tommy. Don’t you worry,’ he sneered, then laughed. Tommy noticed that Molly wasn’t laughing as she followed Ralph towards the exit.

  ‘So, what was that about?’ Lazarus asked, wheeling himself alongside his friend. Lazarus was a good-looking boy with short brown curly hair and a warm, friendly face that was smiling more often than not. Even in his wheelchair you got a sense that he would be tall and broad if he stood up.

  ‘Don’t ask,’ Tommy muttered. Sighing, he turned his attention to Lazarus.

  ‘Didn’t think it would be any good,’ Lazarus said. ‘You want me to go put a couple of dead cockroaches in his bed?’

  Tommy laughed. ‘Maybe some live ones,’ he said.

  Lazarus was the happiest person Tommy knew, which he just didn’t understand. Lazarus had spent the last two years of his life in a wheelchair after being badly hurt in a car accident. Luckily, no one else had been injured but Lazarus had copped the full force of the other car which had rammed into the side of his parents’ vehicle.

  He had missed heaps of school but Lazarus’ family were determined that he’d return to Mount Lofty. The school council raised money to make sure that all the classrooms and toilets had wheelchair access.

  Tommy would never forget the first day Lazarus had come back. The entire school community – teachers, parents, council and children had lined up along the pathway from the front gate to the office door in a massive guard of honour. It had been weird. Cheers and clapping had become muted applause until an eerie silence had descended on eve
ryone as Lazarus, flanked by his mum and dad, wheeled himself up the sloping pathway. Many people had been in tears that morning. When Tommy felt the squeeze of his mum’s hand as Lazarus wheeled past, giving Tommy a special wink, Tommy himself had felt hot tears rolling down his own face.

  Even Ralph, standing opposite, alone, his head bowed, lips pressed together, silent with the soft rain falling, had looked shaken.

  Lazarus had always been popular and he’d quickly settled back into school life. But Tommy knew he’d never forget that day. Sometimes, in the middle of a game of football, or cricket, a PE lesson or even a simple game of tag during lunchtime, Tommy would pause, noticing his friend sitting quietly in his wheelchair, often reading or sometimes just staring out at everyone, but always with a smile on his face.

  Once, during a PE lesson when the class had been playing a game of basketball, Tommy had stopped, dropped the ball at his feet and walked over to sit next to his friend. It had been a spur of the moment decision.

  At the end of the lesson, Miss Byrne, his PE teacher, had called Tommy over.

  ‘Tommy, that moment when you walked off –’

  ‘Miss Byrne,’ Tommy interrupted, ready to explain.

  But Miss Byrne was smiling, holding a hand in the air. ‘As far as I’m concerned you can do that any time you like.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘That was one of the most caring things I’ve ever seen. A mate looking out for a mate.’

  Tommy smiled at the memory.

  ‘As I was saying,’ Lazarus began. ‘I reckon he’s getting nervous about the City versus Country Clash trials and that you might be the kid chosen, not him.’

  That was another thing about Lazarus. He knew what was going on. He picked up on things. He sat quietly and observed and was right, most of the time.