First hat rick

First hat-trick

 This was it. The moment I had been waiting for. A chance to prove my worth. An opportunity I couldn't resist. A time where over-thinking was futile.

My heart pounded, the sound drumming in my ears. I took off the cap on my head with one hand, as I caught the shining red ball with the other. I fumbled at first, but I soon got hold of my nervousness and pushed it down. I walked up to the umpire and handed my cap to him. He took it without looking at me and clipped it to his belt. My voice quivered as I said thank you. I measured my run up. A few steps, a jump, a pivot and a stomp. Perfect. I dug my spikes in the ground and dragged my foot. A brown patch of dirt and dry grass would be the mark I would use to start my run up from. I looked around at my team mates, all in their different fielding positions. I was too young to fully understand whether they were standing at the correct places. Cricket was a sport that involved angles, but that was too complicated for a child like me to comprehend. That was when our coach came in handy. He made sure that Cow Corner wasn't in line with Midwicket or that Fine leg wasn't directly behind the Wicket keeper. As soon as he thought that the adjustments were good enough he looked at me, his face in shadow from the floppy hat on his head, and nodded. The umpire's hand, having been held out wide from his body, moved back to his side. This was the signal that the over would start soon.

"Let's play."

I took a breath, looking at the ball in my hands. The seam was rough. It had already seen a bit of play. The golden print had now faded. I tossed it up and caught it. As soon as it landed back in my hand, I corrected my grip to that of a finger spinner. I started forward.

Step, step, step, step, step, jump, stomp, pivot, release. The ball arced in the air, spinning as it did so. Time seemed to slow down. The keeper rose with the bounce and shuffled with the spin, his eyes wide as he watched the ball. The batsman's bat flew down to meet with the ball, but the spin punched through his defenses. The sudden thud of ball against wood was loud enough for everyone to hear. In response to this noise and the sight of a bent stump, cries of "Howzat!" sounded out from the fielders. They all left their positions and ran straight towards the pitch where I was standing, a huge smile on my face. There were slaps on my back as my team mates crowded around me and congratulated me. The pounding in my heart quickened, but this time I wasn't nervous. I felt like I belonged. The huddle ended with a quick "Two! Three!" and the rest got back into their positions, while I made my way back to the brown patch not too far from the pitch.

Step, step, step, step, step, jump, stomp, pivot, release. The ball descended, wide of the wickets this time, a trap. The new batsman, filled to the brink with adrenaline and nerves, saw it too late. He took a step forward and swung with all his might. Having done this he had stepped out of his crease and missed the ball entirely. The keeper's gloves closed around the cricket ball and swiped at the stumps. More cries of "Howzat!" were heard and all eyes turned towards the square leg umpire. Looking dead ahead, he raised his finger. Another wicket! Cheers erupted from amongst the crowd and players. Two in a row! Well that was a first. The team came together and again the huddle ended with a deafening "Two! Three!" Many words of encouragement could be heard as I walked back to my mark. I got ready for the next ball.

A hat-rick in cricket was considered an honorable achievement. In order to claim such a milestone as that, one would have to take three consecutive wickets. In other words three wickets in a row.

Step, step, step, step, step, jump, stomp, pivot, release. The ball didn't loop like the others. This one was quick and flat. It had not come out the way I had wanted. The adrenaline and excitement of it all made me rush. This in turn effected the spin of the ball. The faster one bowled a spin ball, the less likely the ball would spin. Realizing my mistake, my heart dropped. The batsman went forward to play a shot, but he had been under the impression that it would come a little slower. He misjudged the pace of the ball, his bat ending up in the wrong place. There was a soft click and the keepers hands went up in the air with the ball in his gloves. He had nicked it! Before the umpire had given the signal, my team mates were sprinting towards me, happiness written all over their faces. A hat-rick! Three consecutive wickets. Three different batsman. Three different balls. Three different outcomes. Cricket was a funny game.