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"Here comes the typhoon!"

 Shahid Afridi, the great slugger

The sun hid behind clouds, turning them orange blue. Next to the fridge, on the terrace, was a clean white table with 3 jugs of mango juice on it and a tray of half-filled glasses.

I was playing cricket with my cousins. I held the bat as tightly as I could. Everyone was in position staring at me. Ali lined up:

"Are you ready to face the best bowler in town" he shouted.

I laughed, but my confidence was fading.

He looked at me: "Ready?"

I nodded, and looked at my Dad who was smiling and holding a camera in his hand. He gave me the thumbs up and began to film. Ali signalled to my brother to go and stand next to me. Then he started running towards the crease, picking up speed.

He shouted: " Here comes the typhoon".

I closed my eyes and swung the bat as fast and as hard as I could ...and hit something with a crack.

I looked up for the ball. Temporarily blinded by the sun, I covered my eyes, then looked down and saw my brother on the floor, holding his head. He was trying to laugh and cry at the same time. In fact I think I have only ever seen a similar expression on the face of the Mona Lisa...perhaps Leonardo played cricket.

My dad picked him up, and took him inside.

Ali sauntered over: "Nice shot." he said, "And oh, you're out by the way".

Every summer both my Mum's extended family and my Dad's would come over to stay at our house. We had a 7 bedrooms, 2 living rooms, a big terrace and a front garden.

Every evening we played cricket on the terrace and the girls played badminton downstairs in the front garden while the toddlers were left to roam free in the house. We ate together and played together and at night we watched movies together, gathering around the TV with our blankets and pillows, while the ceiling fans spread the cool air from the air conditioner all around the room. We watched a lot of cricket.

We all admired Shahid Afridi. He is original. He is a slogger and that is what we liked about him. My cousin Ali imitated his style, and now, years later, he runs his own cricket club in Pakistan and is on the verge of going professional. Watch out for him: Ali Shah.

When I moved to UK I forgot about cricket. until Ali called me and suggested I take it up again. So I did and I joined a cricket club - Chessington Cricket Club. I played for them for a year. A year ago we reached the finals of the Mayor's cup. Things were going badly for us. In fact so badly that many of our supporters had gone home early.

The opposition team, was on top of us and needed only 6 more runs to win - they needed one big hit over the boundry. Our team, for some reason, didn't lose hope. It was my turn to bowl, but the team captain showed his faith in me:

"Get them out".

I lined up for my first throw.

I could see our opponents' supporters jeering me and my parents cheering. I looked at the batsman. He nodded, so I started my run towards the crease.

Running as fast as I could, I chucked the ball, which left my hand, hit the pitch, jumped up and headed towards the batsman. He swung round as hard as he could, but miss-timed his swing clipping the ball on the lower edge of the bat.

The ball hit the wicket, the bales dropped and the umpire called:

"OUT!"

 My parents from the other end of the pitch screamed my name, shouting:

"Do it again!" 

I lined up for my second throw. The new batsman jogged up and then signalled for me to bowl. This time I took inspiration from what I had just done and focused on one single point - the left side of the wicket.

I ran up to the crease as fast as I could and let the ball fly from my hands with side-spin. The ball accelerated and one more time it bound up, changing direction slightly. It confused the batsman so that he didn't even attempt to hit it.

I was lucky, the ball just skimmed the top of the left wicket and the bales flew off for the second time in a row.

"OUT!"

The last batsman was on his way up the field. The light was fading. Their coach gave him some advice while I waited.

When he was ready he nodded at me to signal "Go". 

I took a deep breath, and recalling what I just done one more time, I started to run as fast as I could towards him, and let the ball slip for the last time. The moment was so scary that I shut my eyes.

The ball bounced, heading towards the batsman. He swung the bat and he missed it. The ball carried forwards and hit the stumps.

"OUT!"

My parents and the few supporters who had stayed behind jumped and shouted with happiness. Chessington Cricket Club had won the Mayor's cup.

 
By Abdulrahman Khalil
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