But Sara just threw up her hands and said, “If it will get Koby to talk, I guess I could include you. Sheesh, what some people will do to see their name in print.” She closed her social studies book and opened her notebook. “You two scram for a little while so I can come up with some questions. Go practice pitching or something.”
Obediently, Koby and Tug stood up to leave.
“Hey, before you go, microwave me some more popcorn!” Sara added, holding out the empty bowl.
Twenty minutes later, Sara called them back inside.
“OK, ready? Question number one: Koby, how long have you been pitching?”
“I’ve been pitching for five years, since Little League.”
“Have you ever played any other positions?”
“Once. I played outfield for a summer league game when our regular center fielder and his substitute were both on vacation.”
“But pitching is where you naturally belong. Anyone can see that. Right?”
Koby shrugged. “It’s where I feel I can help my team best, yeah.”
Sara consulted her notebook. “Who first got you interested in baseball?”
Before Koby had a chance to reply, Tug interrupted. “Hey, hello there! When are you going to ask me a question?”
Sara sighed. “OK, Tug. Tell me, how long have you been Koby’s catcher?”
“Oh, brother,” Tug groaned.
Koby intervened. “Sara, I think I should point out something you might not know. You see, Tug is really important to how well I pitch during a game. I count on him to know things about the batters and to call pitches that might fool them. Without his steady target, the famous Hummer, I might not be as accurate a pitcher. And besides that, he’s great at covering home, throwing runners out at second, and he hits well, too. So —”
Sara held up her hand. “OK, OK, I get the picture. I’ll include as much about Tug as I can. No promises, though. Do you still want to do the interview?” She looked at Koby for an answer.
Koby glanced at Tug. “What do you think?”
Tug rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. I hate playing second banana to this guy, but we might as well finish it.”
Koby gave him a wry smile. “I promise to remember you when I’m rich and famous, Second Banana. For now, let’s get this interview over with.” He turned back to Sara. “In answer to your question,
my brother, Chuck, was the one who got me interested in baseball, when he pitched for the Cardinals.”
“When was that?” Sara asked.
“Six years ago. I don’t remember much about his season, only that it wasn’t very good. But he kept up his enthusiasm, no matter what. Even got an award for it.”
Sara scribbled madly in her notebook. Tug, meanwhile, drummed his fingers on the table. Koby could tell that he had had just about enough of the interview.
Well, he’ll feel differently when the article comes out, Koby thought. I’m sure Sara will include that stuff about him. His ego is just bruised now, because Sara is giving me all the attention. But he knows I’m only doing this for the team. Doesn’t he?
5
The Megaphone
Monticello Middle School
May 20
SPORTS SHORTS
by Sara Wilson
By now, the name Koby Caplin should be familiar to anyone who’s read my column over the past few weeks. Well, I managed to corner him recently to ask him some of the questions I’m sure you’ve all been wondering about. Here’s a quick profile on the player who, thanks to his remarkable performance on the field, has become the standout leader for the Cardinals:
Koby Caplin began pitching five years ago in Little League. He’s never played any other position, except one time in summer league when his superior throwing arm was called upon to help out his team in center field. He says his older brother, Chuck, first got him interested in baseball. (Some of you with older brothers who played baseball may remember Chuck, who pitched for the Cardinals during one of their more dismal seasons. I guess we should all be happy Koby didn’t follow in his brother’s footsteps too closely!)
Always a team player, Koby is quick to point out that the abilities of his battery mate, Tug McCue, whom he affectionately calls his “second banana,” help make him look good on the mound. If that’s true, then keep up the good work, Second Banana! And that goes for you, too, Koby. Monticello looks to you to keep this team alive!
For those of you who haven’t made it to a game yet, be sure to catch Koby and the Cardinals (sounds like a rock group, doesn’t it?) at their next home game, versus the Holton Hawks this Friday. (Last Tuesday’s game was another victory for the Cardinals, thanks to Miguel Sanchez and Peter Chung.)
“Sports Shorts” Trivia Question: Who scored the millionth run in major league baseball, and when did he do it?
Answer to the last trivia question: Ken Griffey Sr. joined his son, Ken Griffey Jr., in the Seattle Mariners’ outfield on August 31, 1990. They were the first father and son to play together.
Koby Caplin had a murderous look in his eyes. With a copy of the Megaphone in hand, he strode through the hallways, searching for Sara. Finally, he spotted her.
“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
EXECUTIVE PRODUCER OF SPORTS
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
At 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.”
Prime Time Pitcher Page 3