Netball Dreams (4 page)

Ding, ding, ding …

When the bell rang, we walked down the steps together and headed for class.

The other kids scattered, running in different directions and doing their own thing.

But we stayed together. We walked as a group, talking and laughing like a gang. The Dream Team, together.

Now we had a name. We started hanging out all the time after that. Even when we weren’t playing netball, we sat and talked as a team.

Angie and Claire stopped playing basketball at lunchtime. Amazing! Of course, most of the time we played netball anyway. It was fun. When the lunch bell rang, we would gulp down our food, eager to be first down at the courts.

The rest of the team were getting better and better, learning not to step or bounce the ball. They were shooting better, too.

Angie spent heaps of time with me. She was my sporty superhero.

Sometimes we just played catch. Slow at first, then faster and faster until I was throwing with force. Soon I learnt to catch a fast ball, like catching a giant bullet.

‘Aim at the bib,’ Angie would say. ‘Not the person’s face.’ And sometimes I did just that.

Becky and I made a poster on my dad’s computer. Before each netball game, we would tie it to the fence.

Then we would stand in a circle and pile our hands in the middle, one on top of the other until we couldn’t tell whose hand was whose. Together, we would throw up our hands and call out, ‘Go, Dream Team!’ It was brilliant. Doing that made my whole body buzz, ready to play the game.

We lost our next game. The other team had four girls who played on a real team after school. Those girls were really competitive and played like bull terriers – angry and unstoppable.

We only lost by three goals, so we didn’t feel too bad. It’s not all about winning, after all.

Then, for our third game, I had my first taste of victory. Suddenly, I understood why the others tried so hard to win.

Whoops!

Someone dropped the ball. But it wasn’t me. It was Tony, the boy who was last to be picked. We were playing against his team.

Quickly I reached down, fumbling for the rolling ball. Tony didn’t even try to stop me. Then I had it. Solid in my hands.

‘Here, Alex!’ called Becky.

With good aim for once, I passed the ball to her.

‘Sorry,’ mumbled Tony. But his team didn’t say ‘never mind’. They didn’t say anything. I was glad that I didn’t get stuck on that team!

Over, across, and up went the ball, as it was passed and shot through our goal. Another goal for us! And we were already winning.

With each point and each pass of the ball, our team moved closer to something exciting, just around the corner. It was like finally making it to Christmas Eve.

Near the end of the game, I saw a little smile on Angie’s face. Even Callum stopped frowning. Then, at last, the final whistle blew.

Like pins attracted to a magnet, we rushed together, jumping up and down, hugging and doing high fives.

It was brilliant. I was light and happy and proud, high on the taste of a win. It was such an amazing feeling, being part of the winning team. I wanted to feel that way again.

All week after our win, I wanted to celebrate! Becky and I made up a chant.

Dream Team are the win-ners!

Dream Team are the win-ners!

As we sang we did a silly dance, kicking our legs out to the side. We did it all recess, until some of the other kids called, ‘The Dream Team stinks!’ But we just laughed.

Winning with the Dream Team made me feel bold and strong and part of something important.

We won our fourth game by three points. It wasn’t easy, though. Sometimes the ball moved so fast I didn’t know what was happening.

But it was an important win, because now we had a chance at the grand final. Imagine that! If we won our fifth game, we would qualify for it. I had never been in a grand final. But I was sure it would be fun.

The week before our fifth game, we practised whenever we could. The whole team was hungry to win.

And at the start of the next game, we were pumped. It was as if we were zapped with electricity. We had springs in our legs and suction caps on our hands.

Soon the ball was flying.
Zig, zag, zap!
It moved through our hands with speed.

Just before half-time, the scores were level. Angie was playing centre. She was blazing across the court like a bushfire. I could tell she wanted to get ahead before half-time.

She had the ball and was trying to get it to our attackers. But the other team were good defenders. They weren’t making it easy for Angie.

Forward went the ball. Then it would hit a dead end, the other team blocking our players. Back came the ball to Angie.

Suddenly, Angie seemed to change her mind. She threw the ball to Becky. Then Angie ran backwards, calling for the ball again. I kept my eye on Angie and stayed with my player. But I wasn’t sure what was going on.

What was Angie doing? She was running
away
from our goal.

Becky threw Angie the ball. And before I knew it, Angie was calling my name.

‘Aleeeex!’

I ran closer, to clear my player.
Flash
came the ball, rushing towards me.

I reached my hands up, eyes on the ball. But it came faster than I was expecting. Faster than ever before.