Howzat!

According to the Laws of Cricket, the fielding team must always ask an umpire to give a decision on whether a batsman is out or not, even if it is obvious. This is known as appealing. Fielders usually appeal by asking, ‘How’s that?’ Said fast and excitedly, this becomes Howzat!

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Introduction

Maps

Foreword

Prologue

Toby Jones and the Timeless Cricket Match

1 Chucky

2 The Long Wait Is Over

3 It’s Good to See You Too, Scott

4 Hanging Tough

5 Who’s the Thief?

6 Finally, the Trip

7 A Letter from Smale

8 The Power of the Stump

9 Twenty/20

10 Hugo Malchev

11 Another Long Room

12 Over the Edge

13 Alistair Gets Involved

14 The Last Cricket Lord

15 The Timeless Cricket Match

16 The Ashes

Toby Jones and the Clash with Father Time

1 Grubbers

2 Pitch Invasion

3 William and the Amazing Glass Tube

4 Return to the Timeless Cricket Match

5 Perfect Conditions

6 The Chase for Freddy Barnes

7 What about Jim?

8 Inside the Scoreboard

9 Into the Scoreboard

10 Eavesdropping

11 Back to the Game

12 What a Finish

13 Toby Meets Toby

14 The Battle with Father Time

15 Through the Turnstiles

16 Caught!

Epilogue

Note

Glossary

Brett Lee’s Fielding Report Card

Brett Lee’s Bowling Report Card

Brett Lee’s Batting Report Card

Know the Game

Legendary Moments From The Ashes

Seven Wonders of an Ashes World

Australian Cricket Academy Team v English Schoolboys Team

Toby’s Two-day Ashes Test

Acknowledgments

About the Authors

Also By Michael Panckridge

Copyright

About the Publisher

Maps

Foreword

JUST like Toby Jones, I was obsessed by the game of cricket when I was a kid. I was always looking for ways to improve my game. I learned so much from my elder brother, Shane, and from seeking the advice of coaches. I read every cricket book I could get my hands on and I watched and learned from my idol: Dennis Lillee. Dennis was my inspiration, someone who I looked up to. I wanted to be just like him. (As it turned out, he has had a lot to do with my cricket career.)

I am sure you will find that this book is not only an excellent read, but also a very useful guide to the game of cricket. It contains lots of great hints and information that I hope you will be able to use to improve your own game.

When I first became involved in cricket, I had no idea where the game would take me. The opportunities and possibilities it has created for me are endless. Cricket has taught me many valuable lessons. Most of all it has shown me that if I always play hard and enjoy the opportunity of representing my country, I will be successful.

Every time I get asked to offer cricket advice to kids, my answer is always the same: enjoyment is the most important part of the game. When I am on the field, you will nearly always find me with a huge smile on my face. After suffering several injuries in my younger years, I have learned to make the most of every moment I get to play cricket.

This book reminds me of my own childhood days spent in the backyard with my brothers, always battling hard on the pitch to see who would be the champion player at the end of the day.

Toby Jones and the Timeless Cricket Match and Toby Jones and the Clash with Father Time bring back truly great memories for me. I hope you enjoy reading Howzat!

Brett Lee

Prologue

What wonders abound, dear boy, don’t fear,

These shimmering pages never clear.

Choose your year, the Wisden name,

Find the page, your destined game,

Then find yourself a quiet place

Where shadows lurk, to hide your trace.

Whisper clear date, place or score

While staring, smitten; then before

(You hope) the close of play,

Be careful now, you’ve found the way.

So hide your home, your age, your soul

To roam this place and seek your goal.

Be aware that time moves on—

Your time, this time; none short, or long.

So say aloud two lines from here

Just loud enough for you to hear.

From a quiet spot, alone, unknown,

Back through time, now come—alone.

And never speak and never boast,

And never taunt, nor ever toast

This knowledge from your time you bring.

To woo the rest, their praises sing:

They wonder, and your star shines bright…

Just this once, this one short night?

But every word that boasts ahead

Means lives unhinged, broken, dead.

Don’t meddle, talk, nor interfere

With the lives of those you venture near.

Respect this gift. Stay calm, stay clever,

And let the years live on forever.

Toby Jones and the Timeless Cricket Match

IT’S NOT JUST A GAME – IT’S TIME TRAVEL!

1

Chucky

Thursday—afternoon

‘Hey!’ Georgie waved to me from across the quadrangle after school. I was heading out to the oval for our first cricket practice for the season. ‘Have you heard yet?’ she yelled.

I knew what she was talking about. The MCG cricket camp. The letters were being sent out this week. Every day I’d raced home to check the letter box but there’d been nothing. Jimbo hadn’t got anything either, which made me feel slightly better. I wondered about Scott Craven, but I wasn’t going to ask him. Besides, as long as I didn’t know the letters had arrived, there was a chance that mine was still coming.

I looked at Georgie’s eager face as she walked towards me. ‘Nope. But I reckon tonight’s the night,’ I said.

‘Yeah, well, I hope so, Toby. You’ve been spaced out all week waiting for this letter. You do realise that you might not have been chosen?’

‘Of course I do,’ I snapped.

‘Hey,’ she said, holding up both hands, ‘it’s not my decision. Anyway,’ she added, quickly changing the subject, ‘Ally told me at recess that you’re going soon.’

‘Going?’

‘To Lord’s.’

‘How do you know? No one’s told me anything.’

‘She got a letter from Jim.’

‘Yeah? Well, at least someone’s getting letters.’ I was surprised and a little hurt. Why hadn’t Jim said anything about it to me? Now that he was living with us, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen me to talk about his plan to help Ally.

It all tied in with my ability to time travel and take people with me. All I had to do was open a Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack, focus on a scorecard and I could travel back to that game at the exact time it was being played. The catch was that you only had two hours of time travel before you started to fade away. And after what had happened seven months ago, I’d been convinced I’d never time travel again.

Scott Craven’s uncle, Phillip Smale, had stolen a magic scorecard from Jim, which enabled anyone to time travel. Smale intended to use it to make himself rich, and he’d started by taking a guy back to a cricket match in Brisbane—and leaving him there. Ally and I had gone on a dangerous mission to rescue him. It was especially dangerous for Ally, who’d already been back to that same time once before and risked the chance of seeing herself. Jim had warned me that the two Allys would draw together like powerful magnets. He hadn’t said what the consequences of this would be, but I sensed they were bad. And Ally had been sick with a mysterious illness ever since.

She’d visited three different doctors, had tests done at hospital and had even seen a rare disease specialist from the United States. But none of them could work out what was wrong. Recently, she seemed to be getting worse, and had started going home from school at lunchtime each day. Jim was the only person who could help, but so far he hadn’t explained how—except to say it involved going back to Lord’s in England, the birthplace of cricket.

I tuned back into Georgie—she was looking at me as if Ally being sick was all my fault. ‘She’s just not herself,’ she said. ‘She’s different; just mooching about without any energy or spark. That’s so not Ally.’

‘Jim said something about some of her soul or spirit being taken,’ I said. I was about to ask about the letter when Georgie interrupted.

‘Yeah, well, I reckon it’s time for you and Jim to go wherever it is you’ve gotta go and get it back for her. Before it’s too late. And I think I should go too,’ she said firmly, avoiding my gaze.

‘No way, Georgie,’ I said. ‘Even if I wanted you to come, there’s no way Jim would let you.’

‘What do you mean? Don’t you want me to come?’

‘It’s not that. It’s a dangerous mission.’

‘Oh, and I’m not up for a dangerous mission, huh? I went to Leeds with you. I was there with you when we were bashing Scott and Gavin over at the Scorpions’ clubhouse.’

Georgie’s outburst surprised me. It just didn’t make any sense that she’d want to come along as well. Surely she realised that? Unless…

‘Georgie?’ I took a deep breath. How was I going to say this? ‘Um, if you think me and Ally—’

‘C’mon, you two,’ Jay shouted, running past us. ‘Mr Pasquali said first four out to practice get to use Chucky!’

Chucky? Georgie and I glanced at each other briefly, then we both sped off. Maybe she didn’t want to go where I was heading with the conversation either. But I’d have to talk to her about it sometime. Georgie and I had known each other since we were tiny; we’d always lived in the same street and so were like brother and sister. But since Ally had got involved with the time travel, Georgie had changed. She was snappier.

And we weren’t spending as much time together as we used to.

My worries about Georgie, Ally and her illness, as well as the lack of interesting mail in our letterbox, were quickly put aside as I arrived at the top oval just in time to see Mr Pasquali unveiling a strange-looking metal and plastic contraption.

‘Righto, everyone,’ he said with a grin. ‘Meet Chucky.’

It stood on three legs and had a big, round glass top. A line of balls encircled the top section. There was a touch screen, a camera and a whole lot of lights and buttons. It looked like something from a science fiction movie, some kind of robot.

‘Is it ours, Mr Pasquali?’ Rahul asked.

‘Not exactly,’ Mr Pasquali said, patting it. ‘It’s on loan, shall we say, from a friend of mine studying sports training and physiology. It arrived from the States a few weeks ago. We’ve got it for a week.’ He pressed a button and a series of lights flicked on.

‘So what does it do, exactly?’ Jay asked.

‘What does it do?’ Mr Pasquali repeated, his face alive. ‘Well, let’s have a demonstration. Jay, go and stand by that blue cone there while I program Chucky.’

‘Program?’ I mouthed to Georgie. She raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything. Mr Pasquali pressed some more switches and Chucky started humming. We stepped forwards to have a closer look.

‘Jay, you ready?’ Mr Pasquali called.

‘No worries, Mr Pasquali. Will I be taking a few catches?’ Jay asked.

‘Hopefully about fifty,’ Mr Pasquali said, grinning. ‘Stand back!’ he shouted suddenly.

Thwump!

A yellow ball flew out of the machine like a discus and soared into the sky. Jay moved to his left, stumbled back a few paces, then tripped over, ending up on his backside.

Thwump! Another ball shot out.

‘Get up, Jay!’ I called.

‘Eight more of these, then we start the running catches,’ Mr Pasquali said.

‘Maybe we shouldn’t have started with Jay,’ Jono, our captain from last season, said, laughing as Jay completely missed the next ball as well.

‘You’ll all get a go soon enough,’ Mr Pasquali said, checking a dial on the machine.

We watched poor Jay running all over the place, desperately trying to get his hands to the ball. The next set of throws came hard and fast, though Jay managed to take a couple of blinders. After ten tricky fly balls that flew off in random directions—Jay caught three of them—Mr Pasquali switched the machine off.

‘Okay, gather round, people. Jay, you actually did pretty well. Are you happy for everyone to hear Chucky’s report?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Jay said, shrugging.

We edged closer to the screen.

‘The player has performed moderately well with a success rate of 43 per cent,’ a metallic voice said.

‘Chucky talks?’ Ivo said, wide-eyed.

‘Shhhh…’ ‘

The player’s initial movement is sluggish, with a tendency to move forwards without making a reasoned assessment of how far the ball will carry. Please refer to visual one…’

The screen flickered to life and there was Jay running forwards then stumbling backwards. The video cut to another image, this time focusing in on his feet.

‘Oh my God,’ whispered Jimbo. ‘That is so cool.’

Mr Pasquali hit another few buttons and Chucky started printing something.

‘Your report card, Jay,’ he said, passing Jay a piece of paper.

‘If I’d known it was this serious, I would have tried,’ Jay said.

‘Right, who’s next?’ Mr Pasquali called.

We were jumping around like crazy; even Jay, who obviously wanted to show us all that he was a better fielder than his 43 per cent rating.

‘Let’s have the captain and our female player showing us their stuff,’ Mr Pasquali said, loading more balls into Chucky.

Jono did really well, achieving a score of 76 per cent. Chucky showed us a replay in super slow motion of one of Jono’s outfield catches, giving Mr Pasquali the chance to highlight some good fielding points, including Jono’s footwork, the way he cupped his hands and his steady head position.

Georgie didn’t appear so keen. Normally she was a great fielder, but after a few missed catches she waved an arm to Mr Pasquali and walked back in.

‘You okay, Georgie?’ Rahul asked.

‘Yeah, just don’t like all the attention. Nothing new,’ she said, sitting down.

Then she turned to look at me, frowning. ‘I miss Ally heaps,’ she said. ‘Especially out here during training.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean. So do I.’ I regretted it the minute the words were out, but Georgie didn’t appear to notice. Or pretended not to hear.

Mum and Dad had promised to let me collect the mail every day this week. Arriving home, I reached a hand into the letter box and pulled out a wad of envelopes. Two from the bank, another one with a plastic window (probably a bill), a pink envelope for Natalie and a letter for Mum from England. Nothing for me. I tossed the letters onto the kitchen table and went to the fridge.

‘Nothing?’ Dad asked.

‘Nope, unless it’s come in a pink envelope with balloons on it,’ I said, grabbing a drink and closing the fridge door.

‘Probably not,’ Dad said, ruffling my hair. ‘At least you haven’t lost your sense of humour. Hey,’ he added, when I didn’t respond, ‘it’s out of your hands, Toby. Beyond your control.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ I replied, giving him a smile. ‘Dad, guess what we did at training tonight?’

We sat down at the table and I told him about Chucky.

‘Wow,’ he said when I’d finished. ‘You kids don’t know how lucky you are these days. We used to get excited if the coach smacked some high balls into the air for us to take at the end of practice.’ He sighed, then got up from his chair. ‘C’mon, mate. Help me get dinner organised.’

The most runs scored by a batsman off one over in international Twenty/20 cricket is 36. Yuvraj Singh hit six 6s in a row off Stuart Broad in a game against England during the 2007/08 season.

2

The Long Wait Is Over

Friday—afternoon

I was standing at my bedroom window staring out onto the street. The guy delivering the mail should have been here by now.

‘Toby! Are you ready for some batting practice?’ Jim’s voice came booming up the stairs. It reminded me that there was something even bigger than the cricket camp to worry about. Although I trusted Jim more than anyone in the world, I was beginning to worry that maybe he had finally got it wrong. Instead of planning a way to make Ally better, all he seemed interested in were his long walks in the morning and evening and his new eating regime. He was looking as strong and as healthy as I’d ever seen him.

‘Come along, Toby!’ he called, sounding impatient.

He was waiting for me in the back garden. I grabbed the old yard bat, quickly marked my guard and waited. We’d developed a cool routine of Jim tossing tennis balls into a certain zone and me either stroking them firmly into the side fence or defending, depending on the skill or shot we were focusing on.

‘Off drive today, Toby,’ Jim said. ‘Foot out to meet the pitch, head well over the ball and a strong followthrough.’

Natalie, my younger sister, stood near the side fence, waiting to retrieve the balls and lob them back to Jim. I knew she was too far away to hear anything I said to Jim.

‘Are you sure Ally’s not in any danger?’ I asked after a few minutes. I didn’t know if I should mention the letter Georgie said Jim had sent to Ally.

‘I know you’re worried about her,’ Jim said, ‘but she can’t get worse. And it’s been important for me to work on getting stronger myself. Of course, I’m going to need your help to get me to Lord’s, but I don’t want to be a burden. Ally is the one who will need all our attention.’

‘So what exactly is wrong with her? And when do we go?’

I smacked another half-volley into the fence. The ball made a satisfying crack as it hit the wooden palings before rebounding away towards the nectarine tree. Nat scurried after it.

‘Each of us is more than just body,’ Jim said softly, patting his chest to explain. ‘We are mind and soul also. We might not be able to see these things, but they are there. It’s a difficult thing to grasp, Toby, but as time travellers we expose these other parts of ourselves and become vulnerable. Ally broke the rules, and that’s why she’s suffering now. When the time is right, we’ll take her to a place where she can be given some of her soul back again.’

‘How?’

‘Through me.’

I thought for a moment. ‘But does that mean you’ll then lose some of your soul?’

‘A little.’

A moment of panic swept through me. What if Jim got sick like Ally? Or worse? He was an old man now, not as strong as he’d once been.

Jim must have seen the worried look on my face. ‘And as for your other question, Toby—I think it may have to be during the week of the cricket camp. I shall contact you through David at the MCG library.’

‘David?’ Then I remembered: David was the main librarian there.

‘But what if I’m not selected?’ I said.

‘The MCG will be in cricket mode again, Toby. That’s what we need.’

Did Jim know something I didn’t? I stared into his old, wrinkled face but his expression gave nothing away.

‘Found it!’ Nat called, holding up the ball. ‘And this,’ she added, rolling an ancient, almost grey cricket ball towards us.

‘That looks like something from my time,’ Jim laughed, flicking the muddy ball into the air. ‘Come along, Toby. Let’s see that drive working.’

I couldn’t believe the growing springiness in Jim’s movements. Maybe he was taking pills or applying some kind of magic lotion to his limbs and joints. He even looked younger.

‘Now make sure your foot’s right there to the pitch of the ball, Toby. I’m not sure you’re giving this your full attention. You need to focus on each stroke. Any ball that hits the fence halfway up or higher is a catch to mid-off.’

I opened my mouth to speak, thought better of it, and watched Jim’s next toss carefully. It was slightly shorter, just like his previous throw, and I checked my shot, letting the ball come onto the bat. I stroked it gently towards the fence.

‘Better,’ Jim said, nodding appreciatively. ‘If you’re not quite to the pitch of the ball, you’ve always a chance to hit it in the air, especially if you follow through with your shot. Wait for the half-volley, Toby.’

Three balls later it came, and I creamed it away past Jim again.

‘C’mon, you guys,’ Dad called from the back door. ‘Dinner.’

‘Help Nat gather up those balls, Toby,’ Jim said. ‘No, on second thoughts, leave them to me. There are a few weeds I want to pull out by the fence while I’m there.’

‘Dad, has the mail come?’ I shouted, rushing inside.

‘No idea, tiger. But it’s—’

The front door banged behind me as I ran down the path to the letter box. This time there were only three envelopes and the local paper. My heart was racing as I walked back up the path. A bill for Dad, a letter from some theatre company for Mum, and then a plain white envelope with my name typed on a label…plain except for a cricket association crest in the top righthand corner…

‘Dad! Mum!’ I yelled, beginning to run.

Dad, Mum, Natalie and Jim were all standing together on the doorstep, watching and smiling.

‘You knew?’ I asked, staring at them.

‘It was your job to collect the mail this week, Toby,’ Dad said, laughing.

‘Of course we didn’t know,’ added Mum.

I looked at Jim.

‘Mind you, we were hopeful,’ he said, smiling.

Taking a knife from the kitchen drawer, I carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the neatly folded sheets of paper.

Dear Toby,

I am delighted to inform you of your selection to participate in the first National Junior Cricket Camp to be held at the new Cricket Academy in Melbourne starting on 13 November and concluding with an ‘Ashes’ Test match between an Australian and an English schoolboys side.

Specific details of the four- or six-day program (depending on selection in the twelve for the Ashes Test) are included on a separate page along with other details about the program. Your parent(s) will need to sign the enclosed indemnity and medical forms and these should be returned to me on or before 18 October. Failure to do so will compromise your placement.

Similar training camps are taking place in all States and Territories around Australia. A national squad to represent Australia at the inaugural Junior World Cup, to be played in Melbourne next January, will be chosen from players attending the cricket camps.

Being selected for this camp is recognition of the wonderful season you have had with the Riverwall team and a reward for your hard work and fine achievement.

I hope you approach the opportunity of working with the first-class facilities and coaches during the Victorian Cricket Camp with an attitude similar to the one that brought about so much success for you during the cricket season last summer.

I look forward to receiving confirmation of your participation in this year’s camp.

Yours sincerely,

Trevor Barnes

I think the letter must have been read aloud at least six times before Mum finally insisted I put it away so we could concentrate on eating.

‘Will you ring your friend Jimbo?’ Jim asked, looking over at me. ‘Or anyone else? Scott Craven?’

‘I won’t be ringing Scott Craven,’ I said. ‘But I’ll bet he got the letter.’

I didn’t want to ring Jimbo in case he hadn’t been invited to attend. Maybe there was some policy about selecting just one player from each team.

‘I guess I’ll wait till I see Jimbo at school next week,’ I said. ‘Do you reckon he’d have rung if he’d got a letter?’

‘He might be delaying for the same reason you are, Toby,’ Jim said, smiling.

‘If Jimbo doesn’t make it, they’ve stuffed up big time,’ I