Prime Time Pitcher

by Matt Christopher

  “Cut it out, man! You were the best!”

  “Well, I did have a lot of fun hanging with my Cardinal buddies, that’s for sure.” He looked around as if he expected to see a crowd of Koby’s teammates surrounding Koby, too. “Anyway, I wish my college was closer so I could catch more of your games, but being almost a three-hour drive away makes it tough.”

  “I know, but you’re here now, and that’s great!”

  “The pleasure is all mine, little brother. Mom and Dad have been telling me how you’ve been tearing up the Meadowbrook Conference. Must have been all those games of catch we played in the driveway.”

  “Not hardly!” Koby said with a big laugh. “I think it’s from eating the famous triple-decker peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches you taught me to make!”

  “Ugh, do you still eat those?” Chuck groaned, holding his stomach. “Great food for an athlete! Now, come on, let’s get home. I understand the camera crew is going to show up, and I’m sure you want to get a shower so you can be all pretty for them!”

  An hour later, Koby was clean and dressed in his best casual clothes.

  “Boys, Dan and Buck are here!” Koby’s mom yelled from the downstairs hallway. “I’m sending them up!”

  “OK, Mom!” Koby yelled back as he and Chuck headed to the hallway at the top of the stairs. “Come on up, you guys!”

  Dan and Buck walked up the stairs. Koby introduced them to Chuck.

  “Thanks for throwing this opportunity to Koby,” Chuck said. “I bet he’s enjoying all the attention and being filmed by you guys.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to win an Oscar, but we sure are learning a lot about middle school athletics,” Buck answered. “Hopefully we’ll get some good stuff tonight that we can use for our promo ads. Those are going to start to run soon. The documentary is scheduled to air on Friday of the week after the last game, against Runkle.”

  “Cool,” Koby said, beaming.

  Koby started to lead them down the narrow hallway to his room. Dan peeked into the open doorway of Chuck’s room.

  “This must be your room, right, Chuck?” asked Dan. “Forgive me for nosing my head in there.”

  “That’s OK,” said Chuck. “Although I think it’s been cleaned up a bit since I’ve been away at school. I can’t find my favorite dirty T-shirts hidden under the bed anymore!”

  Dan chuckled.

  “Mind if we start in here with the trophy shelf in the background?” Dan asked.

  “Go right ahead,” Chuck said. “I’m pretty proud of what’s up there.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Koby said, trying to get a word in.

  “Great, then let’s get started. Buck, get a shot of the trophy case, OK? Then if you two will sit here, we can get the best angle,” Dan said as he directed Buck where to set up.

  Koby and Chuck sat down and stared directly into the camera.

  “Hey, relax, you guys. It looks like you’re sitting on a bed of nails!” Dan said.

  Koby and Chuck grinned at each other.

  “Good, now that you’re smiling a bit for the camera, we can get started. Chuck, let’s begin with you. I know that you also played for Monticello. What was the most memorable thing about playing for MMS, if you can think that far back?” Dan asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Now, wait a sec,” Chuck protested. “It wasn’t that far back! But, to answer your question, I do remember one thing above everything else. It was getting this award.”

  Chuck turned around and picked up his team spirit trophy. Holding it proudly, he said, “This trophy, given for demonstrating the most team spirit, meant a lot to me. It was a great honor to get. Now, I certainly wasn’t the greatest player — you can ask Coach T. about that—but I gave it all I had. That’s what it was all about for me.”

  The camera zoomed in on the trophy and then closed in on Koby’s face as he watched and listened to Chuck talk.

  “How much of an influence has your brother been on your ball playing?” Dan asked Koby

  “A lot! I remember watching him play at MMS when I was a little kid. They sure didn’t win many games, and—”

  “You can say that again!” Chuck agreed. “When I was in the seventh grade, I think we won only two games and one was from a forfeit. The other team’s bus broke down, and they couldn’t make it to the field. Their coach wasn’t able to reschedule, so we got the win. I think that was my best game!” He patted his trophy, then put it back up on the shelf.

  “Keep going, Chuck — this is great stuff! You’re on a roll!” Dan said.

  “But what about me?” Koby interrupted. “I didn’t finish what I had to say about Chuck’s influence on me.”

  “We’ll get back to you, Koby,” Dan answered. “Just sit tight.”

  So Koby sat back and let Chuck do most of the talking. Almost all of what he said had to do with teamwork, sportsmanship, and playing one’s hardest for the sake of the common goal.

  “Winning?” Dan guessed.

  Chuck gave a meaningful smile. “No. The common goal was to leave the field satisfied that we’d played our best and helped our teammates play their best, too. At the end of the day, we couldn’t have done any better than that. I think that’s why, unlike a lot of losing teams, no one on our squad ever got on anyone else’s case. We were a tight-knit, loyal bunch,” he concluded, “and that’s why that trophy means so much to me.”

  After the interview, at Mrs. Caplin’s request, Dan and Buck stayed for dinner.

  “That was a mighty fine meal,” Buck said. “It was better than a four-star restaurant.”

  “Mmmm, it just stuck to my ribs,” Dan added. “I better move my belt buckle over a notch or two. But now we should get to the station for an editing session. Before we go, though, Koby, I want to get a few shots of you and your brother playing some catch in the driveway, if that’s OK.”

  “Fine with me,” Koby’s mother said, “as long as Koby and Chuck can help me clean up here first.”

  “We’ll help, too,” Buck volunteered. “C’mon, Dan, prove to everyone here that Channel 5 has manners.”

  “I’m on it,” Dan said with a smile. “Big appetites and manners — that’s us!”

  They all helped to clean up and do the dishes. When everything was done, Koby went to the back porch to get two gloves and a ball while Dan and Buck set up in the driveway.

  The camera began rolling again.

  “Hey, Chuck, let’s go into the driveway and play some catch, you know, like the olden days when you were a lot younger,” Koby said with a smirk.

  “I still don’t think you can catch my fastball,” Chuck answered. “You never could!”

  “Just watch!”

  Chuck went into an exaggerated windup and unleashed a fastball.

  Phwap!

  “Pretty good, big brother, pretty good!” Koby yelled as he pretended to fall back from the impact.

  “Now let me see yours, little brother. Just ‘chuck’ it over!”

  “ ‘Chuck’ it, huh? No prob, fasten your seat belt!” Koby said. He imitated Chuck’s delivery exactly and sent a smoker down the middle of the strike zone.

  Phwap!

  “Ow!” Chuck cried. “That pitch is a lethal weapon. Now I can understand why you’re having such a great year.”

  Koby grinned. “Yeah, thanks to pitches like that, Monticello should win the Meadowbrook Conference. I must say, it’s been a long time coming. I’m just glad I was able to turn this team around and give Monticello a winning season for once. The team just needed a superstar like me to light a fire under them, that’s all!”

  Chuck balked in mid-throw and stared openmouthed at his brother.

  Koby laughed. “What’s the matter, Chuck? Forget how to pitch?”

  Chuck slowly shook his head. “No. But I think you’re forgetting something.”

  Koby looked mystified. “What’re you talking about?”

  “If you have to ask, then I doubt you’ll figure it out. But mayb
e you will. Hopefully you will. And in time to be the player I think you are.”

  With that, he took off his glove and returned to the house. Koby started after him, then saw that the camera was still on. So instead, he picked up the ball that had rolled out of Chuck’s glove and tossed it up in the air a few times. He cracked a weak smile and said, “Just practicing fielding pop flies.”

  But after a few more tosses, Buck clicked the camera off and signaled to Dan that they were done for the day.

  11

  The Megaphone

  Monticello Middle School

  June 3

  SPORTS SHORTS

  by Sara Wilson

  You’ve probably all heard by now that our flying-high Cardinals took a bit of a nosedive in their rematch against the Greenview Green Jackets. Pitcher Koby Caplin slipped, allowing four hits and an unusual number of balls. The Green Jackets walked away from Cain Park Field with a solid 3-1 victory.

  This defeat doesn’t hurt the Cardinals, as they maintain their one game lead over the Danville Mudcats, but it does bruise the team ego.

  But here’s an alarming bit of information a secret source passed on to me. According to my informant, at least one error—an error that eventually led to a run being scored, mind you — might have been avoided. It seems our own TV celebrity, Koby Caplin, refused to throw the pitches his battery mate, Tug McCue, signaled for. In fact, he started choosing his own pitches. Would Tug have been able to nab the strike that got by him if he’d known what to look for? No one will ever know … but in the meantime, the Cardinals chalked up their first loss.

  Ah, well. We can only hope that Koby will remember what teamwork is before the game against Runkle. (But maybe he’s lost himself to stardom completely?)

  Miguel Sanchez will be on the mound for Monticello versus the Erieview Jethawks, so be there if you can to cheer him on!

  “Sports Shorts” Trivia Question: Which major league team once wore shorts for it’s uniform?

  Answer to the last trivia question: Houston Astro Bob Watson scored the millionth run in major league history on May 4, 1975, at Candlestick Park, in San Francisco. He scored from second base on a three-run homer by teammate Milt May at 12:32 in the afternoon.

  Koby’s heart sank as he read Sara’s article. He was glad Dan and Buck weren’t around with the camera. He wasn’t sure he could control the panicked look on his face.

  How could she have written that about me? he wondered. And how did she learn about the signals? There’s only one person who could have told her, he figured: Tug.

  Koby recalled seeing the two of them with their heads together right after the Greenview game. He flushed — but whether from a sense of betrayal or guilt at having been found out, he didn’t ask himself. All he knew was that he had to find Sara and hear for himself that Tug had been the source.

  But when he tracked Sara down just before lunch, she was tight-lipped.

  “My source asked not to be identified” was all she would say. “But I will tell you this. It wasn’t who you think. It wasn’t Tug.”

  Koby snorted. “Oh, come off it, Sara. Stop trying to make the Cardinals into some kind of mystery, with villains and heroes and intrigue, just so people will keep reading the Megaphone. I thought you were a better reporter than that.”

  Sara’s eyes blazed. “Seems to me you didn’t question my reporting abilities when I had nice things to say about you,” she retorted. “Funny how I don’t hear you denying that your actions led to Tug’s error and a run for the opposite team. Tell me, Koby, would you be confronting me if, instead of fingering you as the problem, I’d said it was Tug? Would you have come here and defended him by admitting that it might have been your fault?”

  Koby was silent.

  “I thought so. And as for revealing my source, forget it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go to lunch. Although my appetite isn’t what it was a few minutes ago.” She pushed by him and stalked into the cafeteria.

  Koby had no choice but to follow her. He picked up a tray and loaded it down with food, then headed for his usual table, where Tug, K.O., Scoop, and Prez were already sitting. On the table in front of them was a copy of the Megaphone.

  Nobody moved when he tried to squeeze in.

  “Hey, you guys, can you make some room?” Koby asked.

  Scoop, K.O., and Prez gave him hostile glares in response. Tug didn’t even look up. Then Prez said, “This table’s reserved for team players. No room for hotshots who gamble with the team’s record for personal glory.”

  Koby flushed. “Fine, I’ll go somewhere else. But before I do — Tug, can I ask you something?”

  Tug stared at his tray and said, “Yeah, what is it?”

  “Sara said you weren’t the one who told her about my calling my own pitches. Is that right?”

  Tug’s head snapped up. “If that’s what she told you, why would you think she was lying? Jeez, Koby, you’re really turning into a jerk, you know that?”

  Now it was Koby’s turn to stare at his tray. He knew Tug was right, that he was accusing Sara of being deceitful. But Tug still hadn’t answered his question. And despite what Sara had said, Koby needed to hear it from Tug himself.

  Tug seemed to realize this, too. He blew out his breath and said, “We’ve always had great teamwork, but now, just because of that stupid TV show, you decide you don’t need me.” Tug shook his head. “The difference between you and me, Koby, is that I still believe our pitcher-catcher relationship can work. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up. And that includes going to the Megaphone behind your back! So I guess you’ll just have to keep looking for the ‘secret source,’ ‘cuz you ain’t lookin’ at him right now.”

  With that, Tug picked up his tray and left the table. Scoop, Prez, and K.O. followed, leaving Koby to sit alone and eat his cold lunch.

  Practice was awful for Koby. No one talked to him except to warn him when a ball was coming his way. When it was over, he walked home by himself, miserable.

  After his shower, he got a piece of news that brightened him up a bit. His mother told him that Dan had called from the station. “He said if you want to come down to look at the film footage Buck’s taken already, you’re welcome to. Sounds like that could be interesting.”

  Chuck looked up from the table where he’d been reading the newspaper. “It does sound interesting,” he said. “In fact, I’d like to tag along if that’s OK with you.”

  Koby nodded happily. He called Dan back to say they were on their way.

  Fifteen minutes later, Koby, Buck, Dan, and Chuck were gathered around a TV monitor. Buck loaded in a cassette and started the machine running.

  Clip after clip of Koby danced by on the screen. But after the first minute, Koby barely even looked at himself. He was too busy listening to what he had said. And what he heard caused him to shrink into his seat.

  “ ‘Thanks to pitches like that, Monticello should win the Meadowbrook Conference.…’ ”

  “ ‘But what about me? I didn’t finish what I had to say about Chuck’s influence on me….’ ”

  “ ‘The team just needed a superstar like me to light a fire under them….’ ”

  When the video ended, Koby couldn’t look at any of the others. Chuck broke the silence.

  “Well, that sure is something.”

  Koby finally looked up. His voice was thick. “I didn’t know I’d been such a jerk. No wonder Tug and Sara hate me. And now the team does, too.”

  Chuck put his arm around Koby’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “Koby, I know you feel lousy right now. And you should. But it’s not too late to make things right. Is it, Dan?”

  Koby looked at Dan hopefully.

  Dan nodded. “I think we can work on it.” Koby’s face brightened. “No promises, though,” Dan added. “We’re under a tight schedule. Anything we do will have to be done quickly. We’ll have to use some of this footage. Otherwise, we won’t have enough to fill the whole documentary.”

  “But
what if we made some new footage?” Koby asked.

  Dan drummed his fingers on the table. “We’ll be shooting the game against Runkle, but that’s cutting it pretty close. We’ll try, though, but like I said: No promises.”

  12

  The atmosphere in the locker room was charged up before the game against Runkle.

  Koby sat alone on the bench in front of his locker. He pounded the pocket in his mitt as he looked down at the floor.

  I’ll just show these guys on the field what I’m made of, he said to himself.

  “OK, men, listen up!” Coach Tomashiro said as he gathered his troops.

  Koby found a space at the edge of the circle.

  “Win or lose, we can all hold our heads up high when the season ends this afternoon. A win over the Firebirds, as you know, will clinch the Meadowbrook Conference title, something we haven’t accomplished in many years. Yeah, a conference championship award would look mighty fine in our trophy case. But you know what I think will look — and feel — even better is if you play your hearts out! That’s something you can always carry with you. So come on, everyone put your hands in the middle….”

  Each member of the team put a hand on top of the next guy’s. “GO, CARDINALS!”

  “EEEEOOOOO!” the team yelled and jumped as they ran behind the coach.

  “Cardinals! Cardinals!” The full house exploded with chants as they spotted the team trotting onto the field. “We’re number one! We’re number one!”

  It was an SRO crowd again.

  Koby caught up with Tug. “Hey, Tug, want to warm up?”

  Tug didn’t say anything at first. He looked around the field and saw that Coach Tomashiro was staring right at him.

  “Yeah, sure, Koby. Um, uh, I’ve got to get the Hummer first. I’ll meet you over at the backstop.”

  As Tug walked off, Koby approached Coach Tomashiro. “Coach? Uh, I want you to know that I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting lately. I’ve been a real loser. I’m kind of surprised you even kept me on the mound. I know how strongly you feel about ‘prized bears.’ ”