The reporter from KidSports TV and her cameraman were set up near the first-base dugout when Danny and Mickey arrived in their Orioles uniforms, bright orange jerseys and gleaming white pants.

It was two weeks later, and Danny was still on a roll with his special pitch. The O’s had won their last three games and their dominant new closer had slammed the door on a potential rally in each win.

Not only was the Terminator the talk of the league, but video clips of Danny throwing it and batters taking hilarious swings at it had gone viral, attracting a flood of media attention and Internet buzz from all over.

Already this week, he’d been interviewed by the local newspaper, posed for a photo shoot for Youth Sports Showcase magazine, and done Skype chats with teen journalists from baseball-crazy Japan and the Dominican Republic, a translator haltingly relaying each question to the young American phenom.

Now he and the TV reporter, who introduced herself as Jessica Parker Lewen, sat in twin folding chairs in the bright sunshine at Eddie Murray Field as the cameraman prepared to shoot.

“Stand by…” Jessica said. She flicked the hair from her face with a toss of her head and smoothed her eyebrows with a delicate pinkie.

Danny guessed Jessica to be about sixteen years old. She had the whitest teeth he had ever seen, ringed by red lipstick that made them seem like two rows of glittering pearls set in a ripe tomato.

He wanted to ask what she did to get her teeth so white, whether it was the result of brushing, like, eighty-five times a day or using those teeth-whitening strips that seemed to be advertised every five seconds on TV.

Or maybe she was just one of those kids who never, ever ate or drank anything that could possibly stain them.

But before he could ask, the camera winked on and Jessica launched into her introduction.

“Thirteen-year-old Danny Connolly was, by his own definition, just an ‘average ballplayer’ until recently. But now he’s perfected a mysterious new pitch that’s made him the hottest reliever in the Dulaney Babe Ruth League.

“The pitch, which he calls the Terminator, has proved to be virtually unhittable since he first unveiled it a few weeks ago. And it’s a major reason why the Orioles are poised to make the play-offs for the second straight year.

“Now he’s our special guest on this week’s segment of…KidSports Rising Stars!”

She turned to him and flashed a dazzling smile. “Danny, welcome to the show. Thanks for taking time from your busy schedule to be here.”

Busy schedule? Danny thought.

It wasn’t like he was the CEO of Bank of America. All he had planned for today was another round of blasting the bad guys menacing Spider-Man.

“Well, let’s get right to it,” Jessica continued. “Tell us how you came to develop such an incredible pitch.”

Danny related an abbreviated version of the postgame pitching lesson he’d gotten from Mr. Spinelli, back when the O’s reliever was at his lowest point, blowing games with alarming frequency and ticking off his teammates.

He followed that with a brief history of what was originally called the “eephus” pitch. Then he explained that, after much tinkering and hard work, he had come up with an even deadlier and more effective version of the Terminator.

This one had a considerably higher arc, he explained, something he’d been experimenting with lately.

“And you call this new version of the Terminator…what?” Jessica asked.

“Son of Terminator,” Danny said, having decided Terminator 2.0 was too wonky and predictable.

In the background, he could hear Mickey snicker.

“And there could be a Son of Terminator Two,” Danny added, “if we can make the pitch do anything else: somersaults, barrel rolls…I’m still experimenting.”

For a moment, Jessica seemed to weigh the enormous implications of that statement.

Then, in an earnest voice, she said, “I know this is a lot to ask, but…would you demonstrate the pitch for our viewers? Please? It would really be a huge thrill.”

She made it seem like if he didn’t do it, the entire KidSports viewership would weep uncontrollably at the missed opportunity to see a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon.

“Sure,” Danny said. He removed the microphone that had been clipped to his jersey. Then he nodded to Mickey, who had already scooped up his mitt and was making his way to the plate.

Once on the mound, Danny went into his windup and floated the new version of the Terminator into the ether.

This one rose dramatically, like a hot-air balloon, higher than he had ever thrown it, before it suddenly stopped and plummeted into Mickey’s mitt.

Quickly, the cameraman panned to Jessica, who gasped as if she’d just seen an alien spacecraft land at her feet.

“Oh, my gosh, that was totally awesome!” she cried. “Did we get that whole thing on video, Lars? Please tell me we did!”

Wordlessly, the cameraman gave her the thumbs-up sign and continued taping.

“That was a totally sick pitch, dude!” Jessica shouted to Danny. She scurried out to the mound with her handheld mic to give him an awkward high five, still shaking her head in wonder.

“Okay, one final question,” she intoned. “And this is the one everyone wants to know, the one that’s number one on our ‘McDonald’s Top Ten Questions for Danny Connolly’ survey….”

She lowered her voice dramatically. “Danny, exactly how do you throw this new pitch of yours?”

Danny paused for a moment and grinned. He had prepared for this all morning.

“Well, Jessica, I’d like to share that with you and your audience,” he began coyly. “I really would. But it’s top secret. And if I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Jessica threw her head back and roared with laughter, as if this was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

“Oh, you’re too much!” she cried. “Lars, isn’t he just too much?”

Another silent thumbs-up from the cameraman confirmed that, yes, Danny was just too much.

When Jessica finally composed herself, she looked into the camera and intoned, “Danny Connolly: an interesting guest, to say the least. This has been Jessica Parker Lewen on this week’s edition of KidSports Rising Stars.

“Join us next week when we talk to Jeremy Burnett, a rising star on the junior table tennis circuit, who has asked the world governing body of the sport for permission to play with a dinner plate instead of a paddle. So long for now.”

As soon as the camera winked off, Danny heard a hollow clapping sound behind him. He whirled around to see Sammy and Katelyn leaning against the fence, rolling their eyes.

As Jessica and her cameraman went off to pack their equipment, Katelyn ran toward him holding a pen and a piece of paper.

“Oh, Mr. Connolly, you’re my favorite player of all time!” she cried breathlessly. “Could I get your autograph? Better yet, would you sign my arm? If you do, I’ll never wash it again, promise! I’ll let it get so filthy they’ll sign me up to do a soap commercial!”

“Okay, okay,” Danny said. “How long have you guys been here?”

“Long enough to hear about your busy schedule,” Sammy said with a grin. “We had no idea about your many, ahem, commitments.”

“Nerd, I thought I was gonna gag!” Katelyn said. Here she mimicked Jessica’s breathless, high-pitched voice. “‘Oh, Danny Connolly, you’re too much! Isn’t he just too much, Larsy?’”

“Haters gonna hate,” said Mickey, who had just joined them.

He draped an arm around Danny and said, “I thought Jessica did an excellent job of bringing out the complicated side of a young pitcher struggling to find his identity on the mound in this fast-paced world of ours.”

“Oh, puh-leeze!” Katelyn said. “Complicated? The kid’s about as complicated as chalk.”

“So the interview airs on this weekend’s show?” Sammy asked.

“Remind me to watch something else,” Katelyn said. “Like a documentary on the chemical properties of zinc.”

Danny gazed at Katelyn and nodded sympathetically.

“Don’t be jealous just because I’m famous and wildly successful,” he said. “I’ll still talk to you in the dugout. I’ll still say hello when we pass each other in school. And a couple years from now, when you try to talk to me in high school and my bodyguards block you, I’ll say, ‘No, it’s okay, guys. It’s just ol’ what’s-her-name! The one who was on the Orioles the year I dominated.’”

Katelyn shot him a death glare.

“Nerd, you are really getting on my nerves now,” she growled. “I’d suggest you cease and desist before—”

“You’re right, Mickey.” Danny smiled benignly and looked at his catcher. “It’s turned into a hate fest. But that doesn’t mean we have to stay here and be a part of it. Let’s go.”

As they turned to leave, the last thing Danny saw was a furious Katelyn lunging at him as Sammy held her back.

“You’re getting out of here just in time, dude,” Mickey whispered. “If she breaks free, she’ll kill you.”

Danny grinned.

“And if she can’t get to me, she’ll kill Sammy,” he said.

“That girl could use an outlet for her aggression,” agreed Mickey.

“Problem is, she already has one,” Danny said. “It’s called baseball.”