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mind when I play. Also, some greens are fast and some are slow. We have quite a slow green.’
    They had a game and some of the members even gathered around to give tips. Davey realised that bowls was a very social sport and before too long he was enjoying himself.
    â€˜You can have a rest day tomorrow and then it’s back to more rolling,’ said Trevor, when it was time to head home.
    â€˜But it’s all done,’ protested Davey, pointing to the social green they’d been playing on.
    â€˜You’re ready for the big league son,’ Trevor chuckled, pointing to the professional players’ green next to the one they had worked on.
    Davey groaned.

    That night, Davey tidied his room. He never tidied his room. Yet he found himself packing toys away, putting dirty clothes in the wash basket, and neatly lining up his cricket trophies so they faced out just so.
    Once his room was spotless, he began to vacuum the lounge room floor.
    Davey’s mum eyed him suspiciously. ‘As much as I love the fact that you’re helping around the house,’ she said, ‘I think it’s time to start your essay.’
    â€˜The dirty dishes are still in the sink!’ protested Davey.
    â€˜Now!’ His mother frogmarched him to his room and sat him down at his desk.
    She was right. If he didn’t hand his essay in the next day, he wouldn’t be allowed to practise his hitting, let alone play in the match.
    Max wandered into the room and jumped up onto Davey’s bed.
    â€˜Hey, mutt,’ said Davey.
    Max circled three times and then lay down with a huff.
    Davey yawned. He looked down at his blank piece of paper. Wow. He’d been sitting there for ten minutes and hadn’t written a word.
    Trouble is, maybe Bella’s right, he thought. Maybe I’m just not very academic. Mr Mudge doesn’t seem to think I am.
    Davey really felt like a Whopper Chomp. Or something sugary to eat. Or anything to eat. Or a drink. He got up to go to the kitchen.
    â€˜Not so fast!’ Davey’s mum was waiting in the hall outside his bedroom.
    â€˜Are you stalking me?’ Davey asked.
    â€˜Essay,’ she said firmly.
    â€˜I’m hungry,’ Davey complained.
    Davey’s mum smiled knowingly. ‘I’ll bring you a snack. And a drink. Now go!’
    Davey sat back down at his desk and knew that this was it. No more excuses. He thought about Trevor and the care and attention that went into looking after the bowling green.
    Davey wrote at the top of the page, ‘Behind the Scenes by David Warner’.
    Then he began to write.

CHAPTER 12
BAD GUYS AND UNDERDOGS
    The next morning, Davey met up with Sunil, Kevin and George at C playing field before school.
    â€˜Hey, stranger,’ called Kevin. Then he hit a ball straight into George’s outstretched hands at silly mid-off.
    â€˜Howzat?’ cried George.
    â€˜Aw!’ Kevin walked.
    Davey and Kaboom took their place at the crease. It felt good to be back. Sunil obliged by bowling him a few so he could practise his new shot.
    â€˜Woah!’ Davey realised just how rusty he was when he spun around so fast he fell over.
    â€˜You’ll be calling me Lord and Master before too long,’ snorted Mo, who seemed to have appeared magically out of thin air.
    Mo was flanked by Nero and Tony, who apparently both found Mo’s comment to be utterly hilarious.
    Davey knew it was better to ignore Mo in the hope he would vanish, but this morning he took the bait.
    â€˜You don’t know what you’re talking about, Clouter,’ he said. ‘You know nothing about cricket.’
    â€˜I know you’ve done zero cricket practise for the last week,’ the big galah screeched. ‘The Whopper Chomps are mine, all mine! ’
    â€˜Don’t be too sure,’ said Davey. ‘I’m the underdog and everyone loves the underdog.’
    â€˜The chances of you hitting six sixes are zero,’