Keep It Down!

Hi there,

I'm David Warner, Australian cricketer, and I'm really excited to introduce you to my new series of kids' books called
The Kaboom Kid.

Little Davey Warner is ‘the Kaboom Kid', a cricket-mad eleven-year-old who wants to play cricket with his mates every minute of the day, just like I did as a kid.

Davey gets into all sorts of scrapes with his friends, but mainly he has a great time playing cricket for his cricket club, the Sandhill Sluggers, and helping them win lots of matches.

If you're into cricket, and I know you are, then you will love these books. Enjoy
The Kaboom Kid.

David Warner

Chapter 1:
Eleven Green Batters . . .

Chapter 2:
The B4U Fan

Chapter 3:
New Recruits

Chapter 4:
Keep it Down!

Chapter 5:
A Cricket Catastrophe

Chapter 6:
Clean Bowled and Out

Chapter 7:
Training Trauma

Chapter 8:
Talkin' Tango

Chapter 9:
Maro Magic

Chapter 10:
George's No-brainer

Chapter 11:
‘Tarantula'

Chapter 12:
Sandhill Flats Slump

Chapter 13:
The Warbling Wicket-keeper

Chapter 14:
The Sandhill Flats Singers

FOR CANDICE

‘Warner, you're reserve keeper!' Sunil Deep was speaking in his team captain's voice, even though they were just having a hit in the playground before school.

‘Aye, aye, cap'n.' Davey Warner bowed and doffed the old trucker's cap he called his baggy
green, but he wasn't exactly ecstatic as he trudged to the spot behind the wicket.

‘It's not my thing,' he said to his friend, George Pepi, who was at the crease, bat in hand, waiting for Sunil to bowl. ‘Batting – yep, definitely. A bit of spin bowling – if I'm needed. But wicket-keeping?' He shook his head.

Sunil ran in and bowled a fast ball on leg stump. George hit it off the front foot straight to mid-on. Ivy Mundine was there, and she quickly got her hands to the ball and threw it back. George didn't try for a run.

‘Yeah, well, as soon as Dylan turns up you're free,' George said. He frowned. ‘His mum must have forgotten to wake him up again.'

Dylan was often late. He told his friends it was his mum's fault, but Davey had noticed that Dylan's mum always seemed to be on
time for parent–teacher interviews and when she had to see Mrs Trundle, the school principal, about Dylan breaking school rules again.

Still, nobody really minded. Dylan was one of those kids everyone liked – everyone except Mrs Trundle and their teacher, Mr Mudge.

With an invisible bat, Davey slogged an invisible ball for six. ‘I wish he'd hurry up. I need a bit more time at the crease.' A real ball whizzed past his ear and George took the opportunity to run for a bye, bringing Kevin McNab, another of Davey's good friends, on to strike.

‘What're you doing, Warner?' Sunil shouted. ‘You're supposed to be keeping wicket, not pretending you're batting for Australia!'

Max, Davey's dog, was fielding at deep fine leg, even though Mrs Trundle had banned him from the school grounds for life. Now he chased the ball and, moments later, dropped it at Sunil's feet.

‘I have to practise my shots for Friday,' Davey shouted. ‘First game of the school comp. We've
got
to beat the Batfish!'

The last time Sandhill Flats Primary played Batfish Beach Primary they'd lost. Now they were thirsty for revenge.

Kevin nodded. ‘Yep, gotta get those Batfish back.'

‘You're a batfish!'

It was Mo Clouter, school bully and cricket detester. He and his friends Nero and Tony had wandered down to C playground to
look for something to do. They'd found it – bothering the cricketers was one of their favourite pastimes. Now they were standing right behind Davey, talking loudly and whistling, trying to put him off his game.

Davey tried to block them out. He focused on Sunil, who let loose a fast bouncer down the pitch.

Davey then Kevin ducked as the ball flew over their heads and sailed past Mo and his friends. ‘Hey, watch what you're doing, Deep!' Mo shouted.

Sunil gave them a friendly wave. ‘Sorry! Better get out of the way!'

But Mo didn't move. ‘Hey, Shorty!' he called to Davey. ‘Guess you'll have to be wicket-keeper from here on, now that Dylan's gone . . .'

Davey and Kevin glanced at each other.

‘He's just late,' Davey shouted over his shoulder.

‘Ha-ha!'

Davey turned around. Mo and his friends were holding their bellies and laughing like they'd just watched the funniest YouTube video ever.

Davey shook his head. ‘What?'

‘Yeah, three years late by the time you see him again. He's left. His whole family's gone. Didn't he tell you?'

Davey and the rest of the cricket team looked at each other. Dylan gone? Without telling them? He'd never do that.

‘I don't believe it,' Davey said, turning his back on Mo and his crew.

‘You'll find out soon enough!' Mo said. ‘Right, guys?'

‘Right!' Nero and Tony echoed.

‘Dylan's gone, Shorty. His mum got some big job in a mine up north and they've moved. I heard Mrs Trundle tell Mudge last week.' Mo made a sad face. ‘Guess he forgot to mention it to you.'

Mo and his fellow comedians lumbered off, laughing loudly.

Davey and the rest of the team stopped playing to discuss this latest piece of information.

‘Do you reckon he's telling the truth?' George asked.

Sunil shrugged. ‘Dunno. Dylan was off sick all last week. Maybe he was going to tell us then, but couldn't.'

Kevin stuck out his bottom lip. ‘Hope it's not true. Who's gonna drive Mrs Trundle round the banana? Dylan's so-o-o-o good at that.'

They all nodded silently. Dylan had been an expert when it came to infuriating Mrs Trundle. He only had to step onto school grounds and wherever she was her eye would start twitching. It was fantastic to watch.

Davey felt a surge of fear rise in his stomach. If it
was
true – and it probably wasn't, because Mo was always making stuff
up – Davey would miss Dylan, no doubt about it.

But, truth be told, that wasn't what Davey was most worried about. The surge of fear he felt was because, if Dylan
had
left, both the school team and the club cricket team would be without a wicket-keeper. Even worse, as reserve keeper, Davey would have to take on the job, at least until a substitute could be found. Which meant that at training he'd be spending too much time behind the wicket and less time at the crease. Worst of all, with the game coming up on Friday against Batfish Beach, Davey would most definitely have to keep wicket. Which he wasn't at all prepared for.

‘Clouter's making it up,' Davey said. ‘Dylan'll be here any minute.' But even though he tried to sound confident, the awful feeling didn't go away.

The school bell sounded. Max barked and tried to make a dash for it, but Davey caught him by the collar. ‘You better get out of here before Trundle sees you,' he said, tugging the dog to the school gate.

Davey pushed Max through and surveyed the street. A few stragglers were still arriving to school, but there was no sign of Dylan.

Surely he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye,
Davey thought.
And surely he wouldn't leave before the big match against the Batfish. Surely . . .

Mr Mudge, the grumpiest teacher at Sandhill Flats Primary, stood in the doorway of the classroom and waved the students of 6M through. It was only 9.30 in the morning, but he already looked tired.

‘Maybe Dylan's on the run?' Davey
whispered loudly to Sunil as they squeezed past their teacher. Davey had recently seen a movie about a guy who'd been wrongly accused of something and everyone was after him. Maybe that had happened to Dylan, he thought, although he had to admit that when Dylan was accused of something he was usually guilty.