Alice Henderson On Debut

Six

"You and I are going to see out the innings," I say to Trent.

His eyes grow wide. "Are you sure?"

"There are eighteen balls left, Trent, and theoretically, you just have to face two of them max. Think you can do that?"

"Maybe?" Trent shrugs.

I tap him on his helmet. "Let's teach these idiots a lesson in humility."

Trent laughs nervously and wanders to the non-strikers' end.

I take my time facing up because I know it will annoy the crap out of Adam. The first ball is a quick one outside off stump that reaches me at chest height and too close to my body so I leave it alone. Adam follows through down the pitch a little more than he usually does and gives me a wink. I ignore him.

The next ball is a good yorker, but I manage to dig it out. He obviously knows he can't get me out, so he's going to starve me of runs and try to make me uncomfortable. We're nowhere near able to win, so runs aren't that important. I'm determined to just battle it out and see if I can put him off his game.

I'm guessing that he'll try to dangle a carrot on the next ball and give me something he hopes I'll slash at and nick to the 'keeper. I'm not too far wrong, but instead of being fast, he attempts a slower ball, just like he did at home yesterday, and sends it wide. It should be called a wide, but I guess the umpire doesn't really want to drag this game out any longer either, so Adam gets away with one.

Jason pulls his fielders back. He wants to give me a run but I'm not so stupid. The next ball is a gimme and I smack it straight to the fielder at long on. He ambles in, giving me plenty of time to take the run but I call no. Trent seems happy enough at the other end so he doesn't argue. Now I have to decide whether to take a single this ball, or risk not getting one on the last. I call Trent to the middle of the pitch.

"Think you can handle one from Adam?"

Trent shakes his head.

I sigh. "That means you have to be ready to run on the last ball so that I can stay on strike."

"Fine," Trent says and before I can say another word he walks back to the non-strikers'. I guess that's my answer.

Now Jason brings his field back up. He's trying to keep me on strike because he thinks I've just told Trent to take a run this ball. Which means Adam's going to probably give me something short.

I'm right again, but it's faster than I imagined, and in my struggle to get out of the way, I accidentally hit the ball with the toe of my bat making it sail over the 'keeper's head and straight over the fence for six. I can't help but laugh at my luck but when I look back over at Adam, he's glaring at me. I shrug and make a show of checking out the bottom of my bat. Fast bowlers get more angry if a good shot is a fluke than if it's deliberate, and knowing that I've turned what should've been a good ball into a bad one will fire Adam up even more.

Trent runs down to meet me at my end of the pitch, grinning from ear to ear. "Great shot!" he gushes. He whacks me on the arm with his hand and then races back to the other end.

Adam's giving me his best fast bowler glare from the top of his mark. I can almost see the steam coming from his ears. If this was a backyard cricket match, I'd have this in the bag. I know it, and I know Adam knows it. I take my time taking guard, just like I did yesterday, and just like yesterday, I'm trying to pick what he's going to bowl for the last ball of his innings. It won't be short. He won't risk another fluky six. I face up and Adam runs in.

The ball lands just short of a good length and without even thinking, I take a big stride forward and feel it zing off the bat, straight back over Adam's head for six. I definitely meant that one.

Trent comes running down the pitch. His eyes are wide as the burgers they serve at the canteen. "Holy crap, Alice! That was so awesome!"

"Yeah, well, I don't think everyone's happy about that shot."

Adam stands in the middle of the pitch, throwing daggers. I honestly didn't mean to hit Adam out of the park in his over but I console myself with the fact that no matter what happens, his team's still going to win.

The most immediate problem is that thanks to that last six, Trent's on strike, and even though it's to a spinner, I probably have as much faith in Trent to survive as he does.

"Just watch the ball," I tell him. "If it looks like it's missing the stumps you don't have to hit it. It's not really spinning that much."

Trent shrugs. "Okay. Do you need me to run if I hit the ball?"

"Do you want me to face up to the spinner?"

Trent sighs. "I may as well have one shot, right? I mean, Adam's all out of overs and they just have their two spinners left now."

"Sure," I shrug. "Why not. Go be a hero."

Trent laughs and heads down to the strikers' end.

He lasts just two balls before he slashes at a wide one and edges to the 'keeper. I see his shoulders slump and as he walks off I pat him on the back. "Look on the bright side, at least you didn't get out to Adam."

He smiles and shakes his head. As we walk off the field, I risk a look at Adam. To say he's not happy is the biggest understatement ever.