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Sunday morning is a flurry of activity as all the district rep teams arrive at Oliver Oval to get a look at the grounds we’ll be playing on over the next few days, and get in a first training run. Dad helps us with our bags, and Charlie and I head in opposite directions to join our squads. Even though the State Champs is in my home town this year, I still have to stay with the team in a motel. Which is weird. But I guess it makes sense for us all to be together. Charlie’s team is staying in the same motel as mine, but on a different floor, so depending on our schedules, we might get to see each other outside of the tournament. I hope so, at least.
After we run through some training drills, our head coach, Karen, splits us into two teams to play an intra-squad match. This is her favourite way for us to train. She thinks that replicating a match situation sets us up for actual games. It’s the same way she coached at the cricket camp I went to last year, so I’m used to it.
I feel good after my batting practice and feel like I’m seeing the ball pretty well. Only Ashley Finch, our spinner, gives me some trouble, beating me with a shorter one that dipped and spun away. Our wicketkeeper is at me from behind the stumps for the rest of the over, giving me lip about it and when I threaten her with short sheeting her bed, she just laughs at me.
As I walk off the field to my bag, Karen calls me over. She’s standing with the reporter who wrote the article about Adam and me when we played in the grand final, and the article that was in yesterday’s paper. “Alice, this is Warren Simmons.”
“We’ve met,” Warren says, holding out his hand. I shake it. “I won’t keep you too long, Alice. I just wanted to ask you a couple of quick questions about the tournament, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“You’re doing another article?” I ask.
Warren smiles. “You’re the only local player in the championships, so we’re going to be following your progress this week.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.” I thought Dad was joking about that but turns out he was right.
“I’ll leave you to it. Don’t keep her for too long,” Karen says to Warren. “She’s got some more training to finish off yet.”
“I won’t,” Warren assures her. He taps on his phone and then holds it between us. “I bet you’re excited about your first game tomorrow. It’s your first time in a representative squad, is that right?”
“Yeah. Totally unexpected to be in it.”
“Really?” Warren asks. “Why’s that?”
“Only because this summer was my first full season of cricket. Most of my team mates and the opposition players this week have been playing a lot longer than me.”
“That’s right,’ he says. “You played for the Wolves. Congratulations again on your win, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“So, getting picked in the rep side means you’re finally being recognised for some of that talent that was on show during the season.”
“I guess so.”
“Rep will be a bit different to club cricket though. A bit tougher. Do you think you’re ready for it?”
“You haven’t faced an Adam Henderson bouncer,” I reply.
Warren chuckles at that. “Last question, then. What are you most looking forward to this week? What are you looking at getting out of it?”
I resist the urge to tell him that he’s actually asked two questions and instead have a think about both of them. “I’m looking forward to playing against some of the best girls in the state. And I’m hoping to get on some coaches’ radars for the Super League.”
Warren’s eyebrows shoot up. “The Super League? Really? That’s a big leap going from backyard to the highest level, don’t you think?”
I shrug. “I guess, but that’s what I’m aiming for. It probably won’t happen straight away, but that’s what I want to do, so that’s why I’m going to play hard this week.”
Warren taps on his phone while I stand there, wondering if he’s asked everything he needs to ask. He looks back up at me, slips his phone into his pocket, and shakes my hand. “Thanks, Alice. We’ll keep an eye on you this week and might want to have another chat with you at some point, is that okay?”
“Sure, I guess so.”
“I’ll let you get back to training. Good luck.”
I head back to my team where a few of my team mates rib me about the interview and start debating what my nickname should be. Our vice captain, Brydie, has got a thing about nicknames and has been trying to come up with one for me since our first training camp. Hers is Chirp because one, it’s easy to misspell her name as Byrdie and two, because Brydie likes talking to the opposition on the field. Our spinner, Ashley Finch’s, is Nitro because she’s the slowest on the team. She loves hers so much she got it printed on the back of her training shirt instead of her last name. So far, I’ve avoided getting one, though everyone has just been calling me Hendo, which is fine by me.
“Super Star,” Brydie says. “That could be a good nickname for you.”
“Nah,” Ashley says. “She’d get a big head. Hey, Big Head could work.” She laughs at her own joke.
“Hendo is fine,” I reply.
“Nup,” Brydie says. “Hendo’s boring. Leave it to me. I’ll come up with something.”
“Just don’t make it anything embarrassing,” I reply.
“What, like Nitro when you’re actually slow?” Brydie jokes as Ashley starts pulling on her pads.
“The beauty of that one,” Ashley says as she tightens the velcro straps, “is that it’s deceiving. Everyone now thinks I’m fast.”
Karen calls Ashley up for her batting practice. She pats me on the leg as she gets up. “Hang tight, Alice. We’ll come up with something good.”