Free Prime Time Pitcher by Matt Christopher

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 canwork. 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 lousyright 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
    T he 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