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Authors: Matt Christopher

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BOOK: Prime Time Pitcher
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“Sara!” he thundered, forgetting the rule about no yelling in the halls.

With a startled look on her face, Sara turned to him. Koby thrust the paper under her nose.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble or something? Coach T. is going to flip when he reads this!”

Sara widened her eyes. “Why do you say that? Did I print something that wasn’t true?”

Koby sputtered. “Well, no, it’s not that, it’s just, just — I mean, come on, Sara! You make me sound like a baseball god or
something! You barely even mentioned Miguel and Peter, who kept the Cardinals’ winning streak alive! And I never called Tug
‘second banana’ in my life!”

Sara pulled herself upright. “You did, too. In your kitchen when I did the interview. I wouldn’t have written it down if you
hadn’t.”

Koby suddenly remembered what she was referring to. He shook his head. “OK, you’re right, but it
was just that once. It’s not like I call him that all the time. And what you said about Chuck, boy —!”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Sara insisted. “He did pitch for a dismal team.”

Koby sighed, feeling defeated. “Yeah, but you didn’t have to print it. It makes it sound like I brought it up.” He crumpled
the paper and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. “But the worst thing about the article is it makes me look like a prized
bear. I can just hear what the guys are going to say. Especially Tug! You’ve really made things hard for me, Sara.”

He turned and started to walk away. Sara’s voice stopped him. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Koby. All I’m doing is giving
you and the Cardinals some good press coverage. Exposure breeds popularity. Maybe you’ll change your tune when you see those
stands filled with fans of yours at the next game. And that’s what you want, isn’t it? Isn’t that why you did the interview?”

She closed her locker and disappeared down the hall.

Koby stood there, thinking about what she’d said.

Sure he wanted to see the stands full. He even liked the idea that they were coming to see him pitch. But he wasn’t sure he
liked being singled out so conspicuously. And if
he
didn’t like it, what would his teammates think?

He shook his head, knowing he had no answer for that question.

There was something different about the crowd at the game with the Holton Hawks. It was SRO — Standing Room Only. As he walked
into the dugout, Koby noticed that more than one person in the stands was holding a copy of the
Megaphone.
He glanced at Sara’s usual spot. She gave him a knowing wave with her own copy and mouthed the words, “Told you so!”

“They’re squeezed in like sardines,” said Scoop as he craned his neck from the dugout to get a look at the crowd.

“Does
everything
remind you of food?” Tug asked.

“Hmm. Let me think.” Scoop put his chin in his hand and pretended to look thoughtful. “One-word answer for that question,
Tug: yes!”

Koby cut into their laughter. “Hey, let’s concentrate
on the game, OK, guys?” he said. “Tug, how about warming me up? Scoop, you could use some practice out there, too.”

Tug raised his eyebrows. “Well, who made you coach of the day?” he asked sarcastically. “Sara Wilson and the
Megaphone?”

“Very funny,” Koby mumbled.

“OK, OK, can’t you take a joke? Since when aren’t you up for a little pre-game humor?” Tug asked. When Koby didn’t reply,
Tug grabbed the Hummer and walked to the first base foul territory.

Koby threw a few easy pitches to Tug and then rifled some fastballs.

“Looks like you’re more than ready!” Tug yelled to Koby. “Are you serving up any barbecue with that smoke?”

“Barbecue deee-luxe!” Koby drawled with a smile.

“Now that’s more like the Koby I know and love!”

Coach Tomashiro’s booming voice cut into their conversation. “OK, Cardinals! Back to the bench for a team meeting.” The players
trotted over. “Now, remember, we’re going into this game with a 5-0 record. Pretty impressive, right?”

“Right!” yelled the team together.

“Nope!” Coach Tomashiro said firmly. “This is just another game for us! We’re going to be playing as hard as we always do.
We have to play every game hard — regardless of our record. Those Hawks are going to try to get their talons into us. Let’s
leave them hungry! Hands in the middle, now — GO, CARDINALS!”

“GO, CARDINALS!” the team shouted together. Then they took to the field.

As usual, Koby kicked the dirt near the rubber to make the mound perfect. The first Hawk stepped to the plate. Koby kicked
high and threw.

Zip!

“Steeriike one!” yelled the ump.

Tug tossed the ball back to Koby. “You’re smokin’, Kobe! Bar-bee-cue!”

Koby worked the count to 1 and 2, then got the batter out with a called strike three.

One down, and the next two batters made it easy by striking out swinging.

The stands erupted with cheers.

“Listen to that applause!” cried Billy Trentanelli as they trotted in from the field. “Thataboy, Koby! Keep those crowd-pleasing
K’s coming!”

Koby flashed him a smile. At least Sara’s article doesn’t seem to have bothered Billy, he thought. In fact, it’s almost like
he agrees with Sara — that the fans are coming to see me pitch!

At the plate, Beechie was a little too eager and popped out to the shortstop. Batting second, Koby helped himself at the plate
with a perfect one-out bunt. The third baseman charged in but couldn’t make the play.

With a strong lead off first, Koby toyed with Max Cohen, the Hawks’ ace pitcher. Let’s see if I can’t add a check mark for
a steal next to my name, he thought.

But K.O. walked, giving Koby an easy trip to second base. Tug came up to the plate. Max pitched him high and inside, trying
to force a grounder to the left side for a potential double play.

Then Koby got his wish. Both he and K.O. were given the green light to steal. They took off with the next pitch. Tug ducked
so the Hawks’ catcher could make the play.

“SAAAFE!” yelled the umps at second and third.

The Cardinals fans went ballistic.

Tug followed up with a bloop single to fill the bases.

The Hawks’ coach walked to the mound and talked with his pitcher. Max was kept in the game — until Scoop ate up his next pitch
for a stand-up double, scoring Koby and K.O. The tally: Cardinals 2, Hawks 0. Max was done for the day. The Hawks’ relief
pitcher stepped in, threw a few practice pitches, then signaled that he was ready to begin.

Prez Jefferson hit a dribbler toward second but was thrown out at first. Then Billy grounded out to cap the inning.

The Cardinals held their 2-0 lead thanks in large part to Koby’s rifle right arm. In fact, after four innings, he was throwing
a no-hitter, having set down the first twelve batters he faced. With each pitch, the roar from the crowd grew louder.

If Sara’s right, Koby thought as he jogged off the mound to the dugout, then people coming to see me are getting their money’s
worth today!

In the bottom of the fifth, the Cardinals added one more run when the Hawks’ third baseman let go with a wild throw on Papo’s
grounder. Three consecutive singles from Sandy, Beechie, and Koby
added two more. The scoreboard now read 5-0.

Entering the top of the sixth, Koby was feeling strong. He wasn’t just throwing a no-hitter, but a
perfect
game!

He was feeling so confident, he decided to try something he’d never done before.

When Tug gave him the signal for a ball high and outside, Koby shook it off.

He saw Tug frown, then signal for the same pitch again.

No, Tug, let me choose! Koby thought as he shook off the signal again. Again, Tug flashed the same signal. This time, Koby
flat-out ignored him. Instead, he went into his windup and threw a low sidearm pitch. With a mighty swing, the Hawk batter
launched it like a rocket at Cape Kennedy.

With his heart in his mouth, Koby watched Beechie run down the ball in deep center and, with a spectacular leap, snag it from
over the edge of the fence.

A cheer burst out from the stands.

As Koby wiped his brow, Tug hurried to the mound. “What are you
doing?
You’re pitching a no-hitter and you’re shaking off my signals? That doesn’t
make sense. You’ve got to trust me. I know these batters.” Tug looked at Koby sideways. “Or don’t you think my job is as important
as yours?”

Koby shook his head, embarrassed. “I don’t know what I was thinking, Tug. I’m sorry. It must have looked like I was really
showing off, didn’t it?”

“I don’t think anyone else even noticed. You’d have to be a pitcher yourself to catch it. Just don’t do it again.” Tug handed
Koby the ball. “Now get these last two out so we can retire these guys once and for all!”

The next batter took Koby’s first two pitches for a 1 and 1 count. On the third pitch, he lined a shot straight up the middle.
Koby jumped as if he had springs on his cleats.

Phwap!

He caught the ball — a sure extra-base hit if it had made it to the outfield. He had made a good out and preserved his no-hitter
at the same time.

As Koby sized up the next Hawk batter, a thought went through his head: I sure would like to see the word
no-hitter
in Sara’s column. I bet my fans would, too!

The eager batter fouled off Koby’s first pitch.

Koby’s next pitch was a heater that socked into Tug’s mitt before the batter could blink an eye. Ahead with an 0 and 2 count,
Koby threw a nasty sidearm pitch across the plate. The Hawk batter punched the ball down the left-field line. All eyes at
Cain Park Field followed it as it sailed through the sky.

“Foul!” ruled the ump.

Koby heaved a sigh of relief. He dug at the rubber and grabbed the rosin. The crowd was quiet.

Koby went into his motion and hurled his trademark fastball. The batter took the bait.

Whoof!

Nothing but air — strike three!

Perfect game — a no-hitter! Final score: Cardinals 5, Hawks zip.

Tug was the first to reach Koby, but soon the entire team mobbed the pitcher’s mound. The crowd exploded, chanting, “KO-BY!
KO-BY! KO-BY!”

As the team dispersed, Sara cornered Koby. “Hear those shouts, Koby? What did I tell you? You’re the star of this team. You’re
the reason they’re here.”

Koby looked into the stands. He was about to reply to Sara when someone caught his eye — a
man still sitting in the top of the bleachers. He was furiously writing notes. Suddenly the man glanced up and caught Koby
looking at him. To Koby’s surprise, the man broke into a huge grin and gave Koby the thumbs-up sign.

Sara turned to see who Koby was looking at.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“I don’t know. But he sure seems to know me,” Koby said in a puzzled voice.

“Probably just one of your many adoring fans,” Sara said. “See, he’s even holding a copy of the
Megaphone!”

Koby shrugged, then headed to the locker room to gather his things.

Still thinking about the man on his way back out, Koby walked by the bleachers. Suddenly he spied something on the ground
directly beneath the seat where the man had been. It was a business card with shiny gold type.

Curious, he picked it up and read it:

Dan Marsh

E
XECUTIVE
P
RODUCER OF
S
PORTS

Channel 5 Evening News

Koby’s heart thumped. Television? Why would a guy from TV be watching a middle school baseball game? And why did he look so
interested in me? Or was that just my imagination?

He didn’t know the answers to any of the questions, but his mind was full as he walked home.

6

A
t school on Monday morning, kids Koby barely knew thronged to congratulate him on his game. Koby was getting tired of saying
“thanks” when he was finally rescued by Sara and Tug. Together they headed down the hall toward Coach Tomashiro’s classroom.
Standing outside his door, Coach Tomashiro was talking to a man who definitely was not a teacher at MMS.

That man looks very familiar, Koby thought. I know, it’s that guy I saw sitting in the bleachers, the one who waved at me!
But what’s he doing here?

The man handed the coach a piece of paper and headed down the hall. Coach Tomashiro read the paper and grimaced. When he spotted
Sara, Koby, and Tug, he folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

“Sara,” he said, “I think you might want to come
and cover practice today. I’ll be making a special announcement, and I think it’s something the
Megaphone
might be interested in.”

“I’ll be there, Mr. T.,” Sara answered in a flash. “And I’m looking forward to watching the game against the Thunder tomorrow,”
she added, referring to the match scheduled for Tuesday after school. “Miguel Sanchez might not be as exciting to watch as
Koby, but he pitches a good game.”

“Sara!” Koby exclaimed, embarrassed.

Mr. Tomashiro looked thoughtful. “Yes, that’s true. Koby has been playing some excellent ball for the team.”

“ ‘Excellent’? “ Sara echoed. “I’d say stellar! This boy is news!” She slapped Koby on the back.

“Yes, well …” Coach T. didn’t finish his thought. Instead, he stepped into his classroom and held the door open for them.
“Once again, I seem to be playing doorman. Why don’t you three find your seats so we can begin?”

That afternoon, Coach Tomashiro started practice with his announcement. “OK, Cardinals, listen up,” he bellowed as the team
gathered around in a semi
circle. “The Channel 5 Evening News has decided to do a documentary on middle school athletics. They’re calling the program
‘High Five.’ It will air at the end of the season on a Friday night during prime time. Believe it or not, they’ve chosen us
as the team they want to showcase. We’re being highlighted because we’re clearly a team heading in an upward spiral —”

“You got that right!” yelled Scoop.

“Yeah!” the rest of the team chorused.

“Quiet! This will bring a lot of attention to our school, and that’s why I decided to do it. Now, as you all know, I dislike
singling out any one player — this team has no room for prized bears. However, the station wants to follow one player in order
to get a real feel for what it’s like to be a middle school athlete.” He hesitated for a moment, then finished by saying,
“The TV station has requested that that player be Koby Caplin.”

BOOK: Prime Time Pitcher
2.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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