Chapters Chapter One: Introduction
“COME ONNNNN” she raged, pounding the rubbery gym floor with her hooves. Competitive Streak (known only as 'Streak' because it took WAY too long to say 'Competitive') knew she was drawing looks from the crowd, but she didn't care. This match was more important than anything else she'd ever done, and now that stupid foal was Messing. It. All. Up.
In her bedroom, Streak had a wall covered in rosettes, ribbons, cups, trophies and shields commemorating her sporting successes. She'd already won the regional soccer trophy, the prestigious 'rising hockey star' cup and the national lacrosse championship winner's shield. Although if you asked her she'd never admit it, Streak knew that this was partly to do with her high school, City High, being one of the best sporting schools in all of Equestria. The Comets were Equestrian champions in lacrosse, football and basketball, and currently they were competing in the Heart's Warming Championship for Volleyball.
The HWC, played two days before the holiday, determined the Equestrian Champions for the sport. Of course, City High had reached the final, because Streak was playing. She was setting blazing records for the season and was close to breaking a couple of all-time records across every school in Equestria.
“Competitive Streak! Calm down!” the Coach shouted, waving her hoof.
“Aaaaaaargh!” Streak screamed, storming towards the bench. “We've definitely lost it now!” Sulking, she sat on the bench and scowled, despite the entire crowd staring at her.
The Coach just shook her head and went back to focusing on the game, leaving Streak to pull the band out of her tail and stalk off to the changing rooms for an early shower. No way she was watching the rest of that shambles.
Of course, the Comets crashed and burned without her. They were beaten easily, and the Streak could hear the crowd's applause once the game finished. Once the medals had been presented, they'd all be back, telling each other how well they did and how hard they tried. Competitive shook her head. What a waste of time. She wasn't even going to bother getting her silver medal. If it wasn't gold, she didn't want it.
As she'd predicted, Streak spent the coach ride home sat on her own at the back. Nopony wanted to talk to her after her so-called betrayal of the team. Not that Streak wanted to talk to them. She just looked out of the window and sulked, trying to make herself feel better by thinking of how awfully the red strip went with her snowy white coat. Made her look like a cheerleader or some other stupid thing.
By the first day back, Streak was already getting geared up for baseball try-outs. She'd been pretty good over the past couple of years, but now she was ready to join the senior team. In fact, she'd forgotten all about the volleyball mess until she found herself summoned to the Principal's office first thing in the morning.
After the obligatory wait outside the office, Streak plonked herself down in the leather upholstered chair and looked at the smartly-dressed Principal with mild disinterest.
She still didn't give the Principal the satisfaction of a reply.
Streak snorted with contempt, stinging from her epic baseball career being wiped out before her eyes.
“What's your decision?” The Principal smiled from behind her glasses.
No baseball was really hurting, Streak thought, as she daydreamed her way through double maths and a chemistry lesson. She never liked to show it when ponies got the better of her, but the Principal had really ruined her summer. She didn't even know the school had a 'cricket' team, so they clearly weren't Equestrian Champions. And this Demon Bowler... yet another pony her age that she'd never heard of. This was going to be a totally terrible summer. Unless she could break a few school records in this cricket thing.
At lunch, Streak wandered over to the gym, not really in a hurry. Any sport played indoors in summer wasn't worth the bother.
“Ah, you're Competitive Streak?” The tallest of the ponies asked, casting a haughty eye over Streak that made her naturally defensive.
Streak just shrugged. “So, what's this cricket thing? Apparently the captain is what, Demon Roller?”
“Well, welcome to the cricket team. We're all here, except for Coach Nets, who isn't coming to this session because it's more of a team meeting than a training session.”
Demon was holding a red ball, and she threw it gently at Streak once she was close enough. Immediately the white pony noticed how hard the ball was.
“No, we use a bat like this. The best way to demonstrate is by showing you how we play.” Demon said, handing the bat to the colt-like pony. “Bus, you can bat. I'll bowl.”
“You probably already know I'm Demon Bowler. They call me Demon, and I'm opening bowler.” The tall one.
“Okay, let's do this demonstration.” Demon said. Only Googly hung back, the other three took up positions.
Googly didn't say anything as Demon ran forwards, ball in hoof, and then suddenly spun her arm around when she reached a line on the floor. It was a weird action, with her rear hooves on the ground, one hoof close to her face, and the other (holding the ball) making a vertical circle. She let go of the ball and it rocketed down towards Bus like a baseball pitch, but it bounced about three yards in front of the batting pony.
Bus used the flat face of the bat to knock the ball away, and it hit the net and came to a stop. Butter looked a little relieved as she pulled off her gloves and jogged over the retrieve the ball.
Streak was a little confused. “Okay, I think I need the rules of this explaining.”
Streak nodded.
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“You play for how long?!?”
Streak was still getting over her shock as Demon explained how the season worked, taking occasional sips from the hot drink in front of her.
“So there's only seven games in total?” Streak asked, studying the schedule. “That doesn't sound too hard.”
Once Butter had departed, Demon went on.
Butter returned with three mugs, handing one to Googly and one to Bus.
“The job of the middle order in long games is to score as many runs as possible and adapt to the situation. That could mean getting runs quickly, or playing very defensively to avoid getting out.” Demon said, nodding.
Streak nodded. “So the bowlers have to stop this from happening?”
“Speaking of practice, you are free this Saturday?” Demon asked.
***
“Okay fillies, it's time to get ready for the new season.” Coach Nets said, striding up and down past the bench where the five of them were seated, his short brown mane sticking up wildly as usual.
“Today, we're going to do a little light game practice to get back into the swing of things. Our goal for next week will be to find new players.” He said, jogging a little on the spot to avoid the cold. “It'll be tennis balls until the ground gets softer, though.”
Streak considered this. Saying she needed help was weak, but she had no idea what was going on.
Personally, Streak thought that the excessive padding was a little silly. Baseball players didn't wear anything like that much.
“Demon is a fast bowler, which means she bowls very quickly to try and give the batspony the shortest possible time to react. The ball bounces off the seam or swings in the air.” The Coach explained. “Googly, who you'll see in a minute, does it differently.”
Streak nodded. There was a lot of stuff to learn.
“Demon just bowled Googly. That's where you hit the wickets with the ball and knock the bails off. The bails are those little wooden things.”
“Taking the strike means you're the one facing the bowler.” Nets added. “Now watch how Googly bowls.”
He led Streak over to the wickets from which Googly was bowling.
“We call each group of six balls an over. At the end of the over, the bowler swaps with another bowler, who bowls from the other end.” Coach Nets informed Streak as they headed back to their original position. “It can seem a little confusing, but you always have to swap end, and always have to swap bowler. Just remember that.”
Streak hoped she understood. “So what do I do when I'm not batting or bowling?”
They did a few more practice overs before the coach called them all in.
They began walking towards the outdoor nets which had suddenly appeared.
“There's one golden rule. The arm holding the ball has to be dead straight.”
Streak tried, and the ball flew high and wide.
To Streak, it seemed that hitting those tiny little sticks from twenty yards away was the hard part.
In the end, Streak ended up taking a ball home so she could practice in her back yard. Bus promised they'd work on batting after school on Tuesday, but Streak wasn't convinced she would be any better.
Streak had decided that if she was going to be forced to play the game, she might as well get good at it. And anyway, she spent most of her time after school each day practicing anyway, so it wouldn't do any harm to practice this bowling business. By Tuesday she'd spent over four hours wheeling her arm around and bowling the ball at the back of the house, and now she could get it to bounce every time, even if it missed the target almost every time.
Googly smiled, and Streak noticed that her and the spin bowler were the only two to have their kit. She took a seat on the bench as Coach Nets walked in.
All the members of the cricket team burned with embarrassment, including Streak. She was annoyed that she had to be seen with a bunch of losers. Before she could think of any smack-talk to reply with, the hockey players had laughed to themselves and stalked past, giving condescending looks to the cricket players.
Streak retired to the changing rooms. Whilst they only had to wear their athletic kit for proper practices, Googly had given her a second-hand set of batting pads and a battered helmet that didn't fit properly. They were awful, like wearing somepony else's sweaty catching mitt. But she dutifully strapped on the leg pads, put on the helmet and pulled on a pair of padded gloves that had holes in them. Then she went back into the gym, relieved that the hockey team didn't have to see her looking so stupid.
Googly walked over. "Okay, the first and most important thing is the stance. You have to stand side-on, like in baseball, but the bottom edge of the bat should touch the ground." She pushed and prodded Streak until she was in the correct position, face of the bat facing the pile of balls.
Googly bowled the first ball, which arced straight towards her. She swung the bat as hard as the could, missing the ball entirely. The ball crashed harmlessly into the net behind her, but her powerful swing meant she'd moved out of her batting stance and now had to try getting back into it.
The next ball hit the bat exactly as Streak had intended.
"Try it on this ball." Googly said.
Googly shrugged and bowled the final ball. Streak saw it coming straight towards her and smiled, stepping forward perfectly and angling her bat just right. But when the ball bounced, it veered towards her left leg and passed cleanly through the gap between the bat and her leg. It then continued and hit the wickets again.
After two hours of endlessly repeating the same stroke over and over, Streak was confident that she could not only pull it off every time, but decide which balls to block and which not to. Googly said she should only block fast, straight balls, or spin bowling where the ball spins into the middle. They'd tried spin bowling at the end, but it was too difficult for Streak to get the hang of.
They reached the corner of the street outside school, and Streak was about to say goodbye when she realised that Googly was walking the same way as she was. "Oh, you live in this direction too?"
Googly thought for a few moments as they crossed the street. "Probably the off drive. It's the closest thing to the forward defence."
Streak just nodded and looked at the street sign. They were at Fir Place, about halfway to Rhododenron. "So what other shots can you teach me?"
Streak only sighed. There had been a lot to learn, and she still only really knew one shot. "This cricket stuff is really difficult."
"Hi, can I speak to Bus please?"
She put the phone down and rolled her eyes. She had no idea how much the kit would cost, but she'd probably be able to persuade her parents. Cricket was just begging to have some school records beaten, and that's what her parents liked to hear.
