Catcher with a Glass Arm by Matt Christopher

1
    B all two!”
    Jody had to reach almost out of the catcher’s box for that pitch. He looked at the runner on first. The Tigers’ man was jumping
     back and forth, teasing Jody to throw the ball.
    Jody didn’t know what to do. If he threw to second base, he might throw wild. He had a poor peg. If he threw to first, the
     runner might dash for second.
    “Throw it here!” yelled Moonie Myers angrily.
    Jody tossed the ball to Moonie, who waswaiting for it about six feet in front of the pitcher’s mound. That settled his problem for a while.
    Moonie toed the rubber, looked at the man on first, then pitched.
    “Strike two!”
    That pitch breezed in knee-high, about an inch from the outside corner. Jody caught it smack in the pocket of his mitt. It
     stung a little.
    Then Jody saw the runner on first take off like a shot for second base. Sweat broke out on his face. Even before he threw
     he knew that the ball would not reach second. He could catch any pitch near the plate, but he could not throw a ball within
     twenty feet of a target.
    Jody saw Rabbit Foote run from his shortstop position to cover the bag. Jody heaved the ball. It arced over Moonie’s head
     like afat balloon and struck the grass short and to the left of Rabbit.
    Rabbit caught the hop. By the time he tried to make the play, the runner was already on the base.
    The Tigers’ bench let out a lusty cheer. They had plenty to cheer about, too. This was the last of the fourth inning, and
     they were leading 5-4. Now there was a man on second and no outs. They had a good chance to fatten that score.
    Rabbit tossed the ball to a disgusted Moonie Myers and trotted back to his position. He was small but quick-footed as the
     animal for which he was nicknamed. He had a lot of spark, too. He showed it now as he started a chatter that spread like wildfire
     among the other infielders.
    Jody joined in, but it was hard to yell through an aching throat. It was his faultthat a man was on second base, just as it was his fault that the Tigers had got two runs in the second inning. At that time
     he had thrown wild again to second, and two men had scored. He had expected Coach Jack Fisher to put in somebody else to catch.
     But there was no other catcher.
    Moonie breezed in the next pitch.
Whiff!
    One out.
    The next hitter flied out to left field. Then Jody caught a high pop fly, and the inning was over.
    Jody breathed a sigh of relief. He took off his catching gear, put on a protective helmet, and picked up a bat. He was leading
     off this inning. Boy, he’d like to hit that ball this time. A hit would make up for that bad throw to second.
    “Batter up!” cried the umpire.
    Jody stepped to the plate. He was a left-handed hitter, already with a single and awalk to his credit. He let the first pitch go by, then swung at the next. The bat connected with the ball solidly. The white
     pill flashed over second, and Jody rounded first for a clean double.
    The fans cheered, and the knot that had lodged in Jody’s stomach disappeared. That was what a good hit did for you. It was
     like medicine. It made you feel all well again.
    Right fielder Roddie Nelson let a pitch go by that was straight down the heart of the plate.
    Another pitch breezed in, curving across the outside corner. Roddie swung. Missed!
    Jody, leading off the bag, turned and trotted back. He tried to remember when Rod-die had got his last hit. He just couldn’t.
     This was their second league game, and Roddie had not yet touched first base. Roddie was just hopeless, that’s all.
    The pitch. “Ball one!” Roddie almost swung at that one.
    The pitch again. It looked good. Roddie swung.
Crack!
It was a beautiful sound. Real solid. Jody saw the ball flash like a meteor over his head, and he knew it carried a label
     on it. A home-run label.
    The ball sailed over the left-field fence for Roddie’s first hit of the year—a two-run homer.
    The fans had never cheered so loudly. Roddie came in, crossing the plate