Alice Henderson On Debut

Thirty-eight

Paris takes her time setting her field. She's aggressive again, placing fielders in close. She's going to bowl short, or she's making me think she is at least, but she's leaving me a lot of room outside the circle. She's daring me to hit over the top, and the question is, am I good enough to take her on?

I close my eyes and visualise for a moment the balls Paris bowled in her first couple of overs and work out how I'd play them if I had the chance again with Jules' advice ringing in my ears. My first instinct is to go forward, stepping to the ball. I can still go forward, but I need to clear my front leg out of the way so I can open up my shot. I step across to the crease and take guard.

Paris runs in.

Her first ball is wide and short and I forget to move my feet. I slash at the ball but miss and I know it looks terrible because the follow-through feels awkward. If I didn't have a good grip on my bat, it would've flown out of my hands. I step off the pitch and take a deep breath. Move your feet, Alice, I think. Move your feet and throw everything you have at it. I step back to the crease, take the centre mark and face up.

The next ball is short again and I manage to get my front leg out of the way but I miss-time the shot, getting it on the bottom edge of my bat. It dribbles off the pitch and I curse myself. Paris sneers at me. I have to get on top of her. I have to show her what I can do.

I face up again, and again, Paris bowls the same ball. She thinks she's worked me out. This time though, I'm ready for the pace and I step to my left with my front foot, giving me a lot more room. The ball zings out of the middle and I watch as it flies over long off and bounces to the boundary rope for four. That takes the smile off Paris's face.

Hannah runs down to me and whacks me on my helmet. "Good job. Three more to go," she says.

"I don't think she's going to bowl that one again," I reply.

Hannah laughs. "You'll be right." She runs back to the non-striker's end.

I take my guard and take another deep breath. Paris is discussing field placings with Shari, and eventually, she decides to move mid-on back to the fence. She's trying to close me off. I tap my bat on the ground, bend my knees, draw my bat back and get set.

Paris's next ball is straighter and this time when I clear my front leg, I pull the ball squarer, sending it to the boundary. I don't look back at her this time. Instead, I just step off the pitch, take off my helmet and wipe the sweat off my forehead. Charlie has come up to the stumps to wait for the ball to be thrown back.

"Knew you had it in you," Charlie says. "What else have you got in that bag of tricks of yours?"

"You'll have to wait and see," I reply. Charlie laughs and heads back to her mark behind the stumps.

Paris takes her time shining the ball on her pants. She's too far away for me to see her eyes, but I can get the general vibe from her from where I'm standing and she's not happy. I take guard again and look up as she starts to run in.

She bowls short and wide and again, taking Jules' advice, I clear my front leg, but lean onto my back leg and play a cut shot to the boundary at point. Boy this feels good.

Not for Paris though, who's standing in the middle of the pitch, looking at the ball sitting on the grass out at the boundary fence. I wander down the pitch and prod at the ground. Paris says, just loud enough for me to hear, "You think you're so good. You're nothing but a show off wanna be."

I smile at her. "Last I checked, I'm the one having fun." I turn around and walk back to my mark, leaving Paris fuming in the middle of the pitch. Charlie's up at the stumps again.

"You know she's going to kill you with her last ball, don't you?"

I grin. "She's probably going to try."

Charlie takes the ball as it's thrown back to her and tosses it to a fielder. "Last one," she says. "Better make it count."

I laugh and look up to the bowler's end where Shari is again talking to Paris. Paris is shaking her head and it looks like she's refusing to change her field settings. I smile to myself. This is between me and her, and the fielders don't matter. She has to know that no matter where she puts the ball, I'm going to try to hit her out of the ground. It leaves her with only two deliveries — a bouncer or a yorker. I've just got to pick which one.

I step over to the crease and face up.

Paris runs in and when she's almost to the crease, she pulls out of her run-up. She runs off the side of the pitch and sneers at me. She's trying to put me off. As she walks back to her mark, I step off the crease and do some stretches. I loosen my neck and shoulders, deliberately taking longer than I normally would. Two can play at this game. When I'm ready, I take my mark and wait.

Paris steams in and everything slows down. The ball comes out of her hand and I realise it's not going to hit the pitch. She's over-pitched her yorker. I get my front leg out of the way and swing my bat through with everything I can muster. The ball drops to around shin height and it cannons off my bat and flies straight back over Paris' head for six. Behind me, Charlie says, "Holy crap."