AB de Villiers E-Book

Jeremy Daniel

• Herausgeber: Jonathan Ball
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Serie: Road to Glory
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 98

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

'AB hopped over the boundary rope and onto the field, grinning at the sight and sound of a packed Wanderers Stadium. He swung his bat from side to side and listened to the crowd roaring his name.' So begins the wonderfully entertaining story of the rise to fame of one of South Africa's favourite sporting stars. Written specifically for youngsters aged 10 –14, it takes the reader close to all the action, and the ups and downs. AB was already building a name as a great schoolboy tennis and rugby player, but when he decided to focus on cricket the word spread quickly about a talent that could not be contained. With two brothers a lot older than him, AB learned early how to play hard and never give up. In this inspiring story we watch as AB progresses through high school, then 'varsity, and learns how to play against the best. In his first Test series, AB struggles and wonders if he's good enough to make it at this level. However, the outcome is an inspiration to sports fans and readers who love a good story.

Leseprobe

Jeremy Daniel

Jonathan Ball Publishers

Cape Town & Johannesburg

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Dedication

Chapter 1 New world records

Chapter 2 The fighter

Chapter 3 The first world cup

Chapter 4 The trickster

Chapter 5 Test match

Chapter 6 Home alone

Chapter 7 Getting noticed

Chapter 8 A natural

Chapter 9 Affies new boys

Chapter 10 Opening the batting

Chapter 11 The troubles

Chapter 12 A very good year

Chapter 13 Dropped

Chapter 14 Ready to graduate

Chapter 15 Under 19

Chapter 16 Coaching

Chapter 17 Turning pro

Chapter 18 Leaving home

Chapter 19 A Run-in with the coach

Chapter 20 The first test

Chapter 21 Centurion

Postscript

Sources

Classroom activities

Written activities

Author’s note

About the Book

Also available in the Road to Glory series

Imprint Page

This book is dedicated to the memory of my grandmother, Doreen O’Connor, a fantastic sportswoman in her own right, who never missed a single game I played.

CHAPTER 1

NEW WORLD RECORDS

AB hopped over the boundary rope and onto the field, grinning at the sight and sound of a packed Wanderers Stadium. He swung his bat from side to side and listened to the crowd roaring his name, ‘AB, AB, AB!’

It took him a moment to adjust to the fact that most of the people at the Proteas’ one-day international against the West Indies were dressed in bright pink with green trimmings. So was he, under his black pads and helmet.

It was Pink Day, 18 January 2015 – a day when people across South Africa raised funds and awareness for breast cancer – and the atmosphere was amazing.

His thoughts turned quickly to the game. It was one of those crisp, still Highveld afternoons, clear for kilometres around, and the openers had provided the perfect setup. Hashim Amla and Rilee Rossouw had each made a century and it was only the 35th over. The score was 247 runs for one wicket.

Just a few days earlier, the West Indies had chased down a massive T20 score of 232 runs to beat the Proteas, and AB knew that they were still feeling confident. But today his team had a chance to strike back.

A series against the men from the Caribbean was always an epic encounter. During the years of apartheid, when South Africa was banned from playing international sport, the West Indies had dominated world cricket. Names like Viv Richards, Malcolm Marshall and Brian Lara would always be legendary. But that was a long time ago, and this year the West Indies team was rebuilding. AB knew they were beatable and tonight was a good night to do it.

Taking guard, he studied the gaps in the field and then focused all his attention on fast bowler Jerome Taylor. The first ball was straight, full and slower – meant to trick him into playing early. AB opened his stance, paused for a beat, and swung straight. He didn’t connect perfectly, but the ball raced past the bowler and just beat the outfield for four. The crowd roared and AB relaxed a little; he was off the mark. Two more quiet deliveries helped him settle and get his eye in, then the next one sat up perfectly and AB swiped it back to the boundary for four more.

By the end of the over, AB had 18 runs behind his name and a familiar relaxed feeling washed over him. Was this going to be one of those nights when everything went his way?

The next ball was slightly overpitched, so he moved across his stumps and hooked it for six. It was a huge hit, landing just under the Wanderers scoreboard. The kids in the stands charged around looking for the ball, to claim it as a prize before throwing it back to the fielder.

AB decided he would take a few chances today. A scoop and pull over his shoulder sent the next ball sailing for another six, and the Wanderers crowd went crazy.

AB looked across at Hashim Amla batting alongside him. Hashim shook his head in amusement and gave AB a thumbs-up. AB and Hash had been playing in the same games for so many years that no words were needed. AB knew that Hash wanted him to push the score along.

He also knew that he had the fierce support of his coach and that a top-quality line-up of batsmen was waiting in the dressing room, if anything went wrong. He decided to take his foot off the brake and see what would happen.

In came Andre Russell, who bowled a full toss, and AB dispatched it for six more runs. Another full toss, six more … and suddenly AB was on 52 runs after only 16 deliveries. The stadium announcer’s voice cut through the deafening cheers.

‘A massive Wanderers hand for the fastest 50 in a one-day international in history! The one and only AB de Villiers!’

AB couldn’t believe it – 50 runs in only 16 balls. Hash came jogging over and embraced him.

‘What’s up with you, Abbas? You’re on fire!’ Hash exclaimed, as AB raised his bat to the cheering crowd and nodded to the dressing room.

‘Just my lucky day, I guess,’ replied AB. ‘But I’m going to try for a few more.’

‘No doubt,’ said Hashim, as he jogged back to his crease.

AB knew that many people called him the best one-day cricketer in the world. Some days it made him proud, and on other days he felt he wasn’t worthy of that title. But now he had a world record behind his name. He was captain of the Proteas and the number one batsman in the world, and this was his moment.

Then the celebrations of his half-century were over and it was time to get back to business. AB got into his groove, knocking a few singles around, batting some boundaries, and, every few balls, unleashing a mighty six. He was feeling invincible, until a short, angry delivery from Taylor cut back at him, narrowly missing the stumps.

‘Watch out, AB,’ the wicketkeeper warned. ‘You’ve made him angry now.’

‘Luck is running out, mister,’ said another voice from the slips, but AB kept his eyes firmly forward and focused on what he wanted to do. Reverse sweeps, drives, square cuts; they were all working to perfection and the West Indies had no reply.

At 92 runs off 29 balls, he moved right across his stumps, got down on one knee and hoisted the ball miles over mid-wicket for six. AB had scored 98 runs from only 30 balls and the crowd was going wild. This was it.

AB met Hash in the middle of the pitch and they bumped fists.

‘I don’t think that last one has even landed yet,’ said Hash, and AB chuckled. ‘One more and that’s the fastest century ever,’ Hash continued.

‘Ja,’ AB agreed. ‘Better get back to work’.

As Jason Holder, the all-rounder, turned and walked back to his mark for the next ball, AB noticed that he was wearing the number 98 on his back. Surely that was a sign that this was his day?

Holder steamed in and bowled. AB saw the ball as big and beautiful as a grapefruit. Feeling like he had all the time in the world, he crashed it over mid-wicket and into the crowd for six. A century off only 31 balls: another world record.

All the tension flowed out of AB’s body and he burst out laughing, then walked straight into a bear hug from his teammate. It doesn’t get better than this, he thought. At the same time, his mind flashed back to the years of hard work and struggle, the highs and lows of a sporting career and how it had all begun.

It doesn’t get better than this, he thought.

CHAPTER 2

THE FIGHTER

AB stood barefoot and shivering, straining his eyes to see what was happening. Because he was only 11 years old, he had been placed far on the square leg boundary, which was almost out in the street.

His mother called them for dinner – for the third time – but this was a very important moment in the game. He was playing cricket with his two older brothers, Jan and Wessels and their best friend, Gerrit Deist. Even though AB’s stomach was rumbling and his feet were numb with cold, dinner would have to wait.

AB heard Jan motoring in and bowling, then saw the flash of a bat and heard the taped-up tennis ball making contact.

‘Catch!’ shouted Jan.

Every nerve in AB’s body went on high alert. But the gathering gloom made it nearly impossible to see. He saw a dark flash and hurled himself to his left, arms outstretched. The ball sank into his hands.

‘Got him! I got him!’ shouted AB, jumping to his feet, and Jan whooped and clapped while Wessel threw down his bat in disgust.

‘You’re a legend, kid! For an 11-year-old that was one amazing catch,’ Wessels grinned, and AB beamed with pride. There was no higher praise than from his older brothers.

‘Can I bat now?’ he asked. ‘It’s my turn.’

‘Nah, let’s call it quits for the night. Floodlights aren’t working,’ joked Gerrit.

‘I don’t care,’ said AB quickly. ‘I can see fine. And it’s my turn. I caught him.’

The older boys paused and looked at each other. Jan shrugged.

‘OK, I guess you deserve a few balls. But we’re not going easy on you just ’cos you’re a laaitie.’

AB grinned. He reached down for Gerrit’s bat and remembered how it was much too heavy for him.

Gerrit laughed. ‘He can barely lift it. This shouldn’t take long.’

‘Ja. One more ball then we’re coming, ma,’ shouted Jan as the three older boys laughed and took up their positions.

Gerrit was in his early twenties and the fastest bowler in town. But AB was desperate to prove that he deserved to play. He needed to prove he was a fighter. He gritted his teeth and took up his stance in front of the wicket, deciding to rest the heavy bat on top of the wicket, so that he wouldn’t have to do a full backlift.

The first ball caught him high up on the thigh before he even saw it. It stung sharply, but AB said nothing, just threw the ball back to Gerrit and tried to rub his leg without anyone noticing. The next one he spotted early and blocked, then picked it up and threw it back to the bowler.

‘Boys! Your food’s getting cold and I’m not asking again,’ shouted his mother from inside.

‘Stop messing around, Gerrit. Bowl him,’ said Wessels.

AB was getting colder and hungrier by the minute, but more than anything else, he was determined. Ten deliveries later, he was still defending his wicket in the almost pitch darkness.

‘Ag, come guys, let’s go inside. I can’t get him out,’ said Gerrit.

‘AB carries his bat into tomorrow’s game,’ announced Jan, and his brothers clapped as AB walked off.

Nothing had ever sounded sweeter to AB’s ears than the sound of that clapping.

CHAPTER 3

THE FIRST WORLD CUP

AB was dreaming deeply when a hand reached under the covers and started shaking him.

‘AB, wake up. Wake up, man! It’s started.’

For a few seconds, he felt groggy and confused, but suddenly he remembered. It was the 1992 Cricket World Cup in Australia and South Africa was playing Pakistan. He bolted out of bed and rushed down to the lounge where the rest of the family were gathered around the television.