The quest for a six

March is upon us. This is notable for a variety of reasons, but most applicable to my purposes here, it means the following two things:

First, the Australian summer is unfortunately coming to an end. Along with lowering temperatures, earlier sunsets and fewer beach days, it also means that the cricket season is winding down. Specifically, I'm talking about the cricket season for Fumblers-B, my friends' team that I occasionally play for.

Second, the one-month countdown on my DOD has officially commenced, and I still have no legitimate job prospects. (I actually have three interviews tomorrow -- all first interviews -- but I've long since learned not to get my hopes up too early in the process.) The longer this job drought goes on, the more I fear that I might have to call an end to this Australian adventure.

Pondering these two items the other day, it occurred to me that my last ever opportunities to play organized cricket could be over the next few weeks, as Fumblers-B's regular season ends and they enter the playoffs.* It's a sobering thought -- a thought I'd rather not even consider -- but nonetheless a very real and possible scenario.

*You know what one good thing will come from the end of the season? The end of season trip!!! Many more details to come on this as planning gets under way.

As far as I'm concerned, my cricket playing experiences thus far have been quite comprehensive and fulfilling. I've batted many times. I've played wicketkeeper. I've made a few catches. I've actually bowled six overs. Granted, I did none of these things well -- okay, I did most of these things quite poorly -- but for someone who only gained any appreciation for the sport a little over a year ago, I think this is a body of work of which to be proud.

Anyway. As I reflected back on all of this the other day, it occurred to me that there's one thing I haven't yet done on the cricket field: hit a six.* So last week, as I was scheduled to play in a match on the approaching Saturday, I announced to the rest of Fumblers-B that it was my intention to do just that.

*For those not familiar with cricket, a six is essentially equivalent to a home run in baseball. Hit the ball on the fly over the fence (or rope) and you're awarded six runs.

On Saturday, I was ready. I had visualized. I had gone to a practice session on Friday, and batted pretty well. I had gotten a good night of sleep. I had eaten my Wheaties.

Around 11:30 or so, after over two tortuous hours of waiting, my turn to bat came up. I walked out to the pitch, the guys on my team knowing full well what my intentions were.

The bowler approached. Mentally, I was there, focused only on watching the ball come out of his hand. The bowler released the ball, and I immediately saw that it was headed outside off stump (in baseball terms, it was going to be outside), so I stepped towards the ball and took a hard swing. But the ball was too far outside, and I missed.

Little did I know that that would be the only ball I'd face.

With that ball being the last of an over, Maz started the next over on strike (meaning that he was now facing the balls). And when he hit a ball, he aggressively called for us to run. I ran hard but immediately saw that my chances to make it safely to the other end of the pitch were small. So I prepared to dive, hoping that the wicketkeeper might fumble the thrown ball before he could get me out.

The next two seconds seemed to take a lifetime.

The wicketkeeper did not fumble the ball; he caught it cleanly and knocked the bales off the wicket. I was out.

I started to slow up.

The wicketkeeper's momentum, as he started celebrating, took him right towards me.

Seeing the wicketkeeper heading into my path, I really hit the brakes.

I stepped on a thin layer of dirt on the pitch.

I slipped on the dirt.

I fell, with my forehead colliding with the wicketkeeper's knee.

I hit my tailbone on the pitch.

I smacked the back of my head against the pitch.

I was out.

After about half a minute on the ground, I groggily got up and walked off the field. My chance for a six had passed for the day, perhaps -- although hopefully not -- forever. This wasn't exactly how I had visualized it.