Part of a Team

Refiloe Moahloli

Description

Morena loves his new school! There are so many fun extramural activities and games to play that he and his friends have set up their own championship. Before school starts and at break Morena and his friends plays marbles, cards, soccer and shoot hoops. After school they take the soccer online or jump into go-karts. Morena is determined to get all the points!

But it isn’t just sports that he excels at, he can come up with a rap song on the spot and has a hilarious idea for an assignment that involves bringing your favourite traditional food to school. He can’t wait to see the teacher’s reaction after the whole class experiences the effects of eating samp and beans!

If there’s one thing Morena takes seriously it is being the captain of his school’s softball team. He is good at pitching and his twin sister Rorisang is an excellent batter. But their team keeps losing! Morena isn’t scared of a challenge, he’ll try his best at any game to be a superstar. How can he help his team to do their best?

A heart-warming story that celebrates family, friendship and working together. The book is also available in isiZulu, isiXhosa and Afrikaans.

Sujets

• Children's
• Sports
• Juvenilee Fiction
• General officer
• Recreation
• General

Informations

• Publié par: Pan Macmillan South Africa
• Date de parution: 01 juillet 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781776251605
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Pan Macmillan Children’s Books
www.panmacmillan.co.za


Chapter 1
Long run to freedom
Papa has decided that we should start jogging together in the mornings. I am the captain of the softball team and Papa says I need to be fit if I want to lead my team to victory.
Papa is a madman. I usually climb out of bed fifteen minutes before we leave for school and now he wants me up before sunrise? The maddest part of his plan is that he loves his sleep almost as much as I do!
‘Vuka, vuka, vuka! Wake up, Morena!’ Papa bursts into my room, switching my light on and off.
‘Noooooo, Papa ... It’s too early,’ I groan.
‘Time for our run,’ says Papa. ‘Up, up, up!’
I drag myself out of bed and pull on some clothes with my eyes half closed. Papa has to nudge me awake because I doze off while tying my shoelaces.

When I have finished dressing, I follow him into the darkness of the morning.
‘Your problem is discipline, mfana wam,’ says Papa as we head out the gate. ‘You have all the talent in the world, but that won’t get you anywhere if you keep forgetting where you’re going.’
It is way too early to be one of Papa’s projects, so I just nod and lug my body forward one step at a time.
As we jog up the hill, memories of our first softball match play out in my head. What a disaster! We lost so badly that even the other team felt sorry for us.
Softball is new to our school, but still, that walloping really hurt.
‘So, what kind of leader are you going to be?’ Papa asks, interrupting my thoughts. ‘A superstar or a playmaker?’
‘Whaaaat?’ I mumble, rubbing the tiredness out of my eyes.
‘Superstars are filled with talent. They know it and they show it. They inspire others by being the best. Or ... you can be the playmaker. The one who, regardless of his own talent, sees himself as part of a team. Both get the job done, but which one do you choose to be?’
‘Aaaaah, Papa. Do I really need to choose now? I can barely keep my eyes open,’ I say.
‘Soon, my boy, soon. You already lost your first match. Be fast, or others will choose for you.’
Yoh. My dad needs to chill. He is taking this way too seriously.


Chapter 2
Practice makes almost perfect
My twin sister Rorisang and I have been practising softball at home. Well, more like close to home. Mama went wild the day a ball whooshed past her head in our yard.

‘Morena le Rorisang, out! Out of my yard with that game of yours! Yhuuuuu, I nearly died!’ Mama yelled.
‘Askies, Ma!’ Rorisang and I sang in unison.
So, we practise at the park down the road now. We walk there with Papa when he comes home from work.
‘Remember, you have to bend your arm a little bit,’ Rorisang says to me. ‘That’s how you get the ball to spin.’
‘I am trying but, eish, it keeps slipping,’ I sigh.
We’ve been watching videos on YouTube that teach softball skills. I – because I’m a pitcher – pay special attention when it comes to mastering the curveball.
If we have any hope of winning our second match, I need a few tricks up my sleeve.
Rorisang bats and, well, Mama’s near-death experience is enough to tell you how she hits a ball.
‘Keep your fingers under the ball,’ Rorisang says. ‘And bring your arm closer to your body, like you want to hug yourself!’
YouTube videos really are the best.
After a while I start to get it. I feel a little more confident going into our next match. We practise in the evenings until the sun sets, with Papa watching us quietly in the background.
Every now and then he throws in an observation from the bench.
‘Rorisang, you need to be looser with that grip! If you hold on too tight, you limit how far you can hit the ball.’
‘What do you mean, Papa?’ asks Rorisang
‘Relax-a-nyana. Shake off the tension in your muscles. And when you swing, make sure you’re flexible enough to follow through,’ says Papa.
Rorisang does a shimmy dance before getting into position to bat.
‘Imagine doing that every time at matches,’ I chuckle. But I don’t laugh for long.
When I pitch the ball to her, Rorisang’s new grip sends it flying to the far end of the park. It takes us forever to find the ball in the bushes.
‘You see?’ smiles Papa. ‘You just need to relax.’
It seems like Papa has also been doing some research on softball skills.


Chapter 3
A second chance
On the day of the match, I can’t wait to try out the curveball. I want to see if I can trick the opposition into not knowing which direction the ball is coming from.
I also can’t help but think of what type of captain I want to be. Ugh, Papa the Madman’s voice is in my head!
Superstar. I choose superstar. With my name in lights and everything.
Today’s match is our first away game. We travel some distance to get to our opposition’s school.

Enough time for Rorisang to come up with a new war cry. She’s been composing war cries ever since we moved from our old school to The Cradle. Coach S said something about being charged up at the beginning of the bus trip and Rorisang got inspired. By the end of it we were all chanting her new song.
‘We are The Cradle, The Cradle
any power we are able
to disable your cable
and leave you in great shock.’
Lil’ sis got skills. We’re in high spirits when we walk onto the field.
Our opposition is good. Really good. And fast! Their balls come hurtling towards us, and we miss. Like, a lot. We all struggle to put runs on the board, including Rorisang.
We might as well have stayed at home because we can’t get anything right. Nothing works. Not the curveball I was so excited to try out, and not our team.
We lose again. Eish, eish, eish.
When we lost our first match, Coach S gave us cake to celebrate. It was really cool of him, although Papa thought it was weird. I’m not sure he’ll show us the same grace this time.
‘Yoh, we were even more pap today!’ cries Kyle.
‘Are we getting better, backwards?’ snorts Sizwe.
An awkward grin is all I manage in response. Making fun of ourselves is our thing, but I am in no mood for it. I feel really bad.
Coach S doesn’t say much after the game, just that we really need to work better as a team. The bus ride back to school is the exact opposite of the ride there. No singing and very little talking – even Rorisang looks miserable.
What’s the point of practising so hard if none of it makes any difference. This sucks.


Chapter 4
Gumba-gumbas
At school on Monday, the mocking of our dismal performance continues.
There are five guys in my group of friends. Niven and Takalani are with me in Ms Khozi’s homeroom class. I was grouped with them for a project on my first day at The Cradle, and we just clicked. Kyle and Sizwe are in another class, and also on the softball team.
We meet on the soccer fields during break.
‘Bra, if only you were as good at softball as you are with marbles!’ chides Takalani.
‘Hah, so much spice from a guy at the bottom of the championship log,’ I respond. ‘Must be cold down there at relegation.’
‘Tjo! Burn!’ Sizwe laughs.
We have an ongoing championship, a collection of points from all the different games we play. Before school starts and at break we play marbles, cards and soccer, and sometimes shoot hoops. When we get home, we take the soccer online.
Sizwe is the soccer pro. The latest FIFA game just came out, and since we’ve been playing it a lot, his lead is insane. Niven is also good at FIFA, but he really kills it on the basketball court – that’s why he’s currently second on our personal scoreboard. Kyle is an all-rounder, but we still haven’t figured out how he wins most of the card games. Me, well, a little bit of this, a little bit of that – and of course I am the marble master!
Today we are playing marbles during break at our spot behind the tuck-shop.
‘Sizwe, those gumba-gumbas are nice. I am coming for them!’ I say.
Gumba-gumbas are those very big marbles. Sizwe always has the fanciest ones.
I line myself up carefully and have a go at clinching them.
‘Yessss! And the marble master has got sweet aim! Chaaaah .