Free Prime Time Pitcher by Matt Christopher Page A

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 conferencechampionship 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 thatI’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.’ ”
    Coach Tomashiro regarded Koby silently for a moment, then laid a hand on his shoulder. “Koby, I was against doing this TV
     show from the beginning, even though I knew it could help bring fans to the stands. But I wanted to put a stop to the whole
     thing when I saw what it was turning you into. I kept my mouth shut, though, because I needed to know you could find your
     way back by yourself. I’m very glad you did.”
    “Thanks, Coach,” Koby said with a small smile. Coach T. returned the smile, then sent Koby over to the backstop, where Tug
     was waiting.
    “Ready to catch some pitches, Tug?”
    “We’ve got to get ready for the game, don’t we?” Tug said matter-of-factly.
    Koby threw his routine of warm-up pitches.
    And Tug caught them.
    In dead silence.
    When the umpire called for the game to begin,Koby couldn’t let the silence continue. He had to say at least one thing to Tug.
    “You signal; I’ll throw,” he said simply.
    Tug glanced at him and, after a beat, nodded slowly.
    “OK, team, everyone on the bench!” Coach Tomashiro yelled. “Everyone’s hands in the middle for the last time this season!”
     he said as he looked every player in the eye. “Together: GO, CARDINALS!”
    “GO, CARDINALS!” the team yelled.
    “Now, get to your positions! The game is going to start.”
    “PLAY BALL!” the umpire roared.
    Koby trotted to the pitcher’s mound and stooped to pick up the rosin. He scanned the crowd and saw Sara, his parents, and
     his teachers sitting nearby. He spotted Dan and Buck, too. Buck’s camera was at his shoulder, ready to capture the action.
    OK, this is your chance to make things right, Koby reminded himself.
    Koby had to battle not only the Runkle School artillery but ninety-degree heat as well. He wentinto his trademark high-kick windup and unleashed a sizzling fastball high and outside to the first Firebird at the plate.
     The crowd rallied behind the first pitch.
    “Ball one!” shouted the umpire.
    Koby’s teammates were silent behind him. “Hey, this isn’t a funeral, you guys! Talk it up!” yelled Coach Tomashiro.
    The defense perked up. But knowing they were cheering for him only because the coach had ordered them to made Koby feel awful.
     He suddenly realized how much he depended on their support.
    He walked the batter on four straight pitches.
    The next batter sliced Koby’s fastball up the middle. Sandy dove to his right, but