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<A Father's Legacy Creates a Great Player>
What good is any of this now?
The newspapers were full of huge articles praising me.
They wrote about how a player, who once had been just a human windmill that swung and missed all the time, became the king of the league.
All of them were full of praises.
They wrote that if I had bloomed earlier, maybe I could have reached Major League Baseball.
They wrote that if it wasn't my sudden injury, maybe I could have played for another three years.
There were so many praises that it even embarrassed me to read them.
But I felt quite unpleased.
The person whom I wanted to show it all to was already gone.
Tap, tap
The rain started to fall.
And I didn't even bring an umbrella. What a mess.
I carefully put the newspapers I brought by the side of my father's grave.
Here. Have a drink first, Father.
One cup for Father.
One cup for me.
With each sip from the bottle, memories of him returned.
In the end, I never became a player Father could be proud of.
It was a rather common story.
A son raised by a quiet and strict father.
A useless child who never became what his father wanted him to be.
That was me.
If I had known that all this would happen, at least I would have sent you a ticket.
I forced a bitter smile.
I should have told you to come and watch me play.
I had not understood this back then.
Father did not want me to become a great baseball player.
Seeing me healthy and playing on the field was enough for him.
Somehow, I learned this only after his death.
I had been an awful son.
Nahan, this was your father's diary.
After the funeral, Mother gave me Father's diary.
It was as thick as an encyclopedia.
And in this notebook full of Father's fingerprints, almost every page was dedicated to me.
No.
Almost every page was impossible to find.
2023.08.21
Nahan played his first game in the Bonghwangdaegi Tournament today.
He did not seem to want me there, so I did not go.
He did not get a hit in four attempts.
It was a pity that the ball hit hard in his last attempt was caught right in front of the fence.
But you did your best, son.
There will be many more attempts ahead of you.
2023.09.14
Nahan got drafted by the Busan Giants.
It was only in the seventh round, and it was not the Hawks, but
I'm still glad that he became a professional player.
I hope that one day my son will become a great player.
No.
I just hope that he will remain healthy and keep playing baseball.
2026.10.10
Korea won the gold medal in baseball at the Asian Games.
While watching the players receiving their gold medals, I was happy, but a bit sad.
How happy would I be if my son was standing there?
Son, I believe in you.
I'm sure you will stand there someday.
2032.05.17
I had an argument with Nahan.
His baseball had been unsuccessful recently, so I casually advised him.
I seem to have upset him.
Probably, he was oversensitive since he got injured while establishing himself on the first team.
When he asked what I could know about it if I had never played baseball in my life, I had nothing to answer.
I need to apologize someday.
2033.11.13
I started to study hitting theory.
I never was a player, I never majored in anything connected with baseball, but
Maybe this could somehow help my son.
2034.09.11
They say that it's cancer.
They discovered it too late, and, apparently, there's nothing much they can do.
I feel completely exhausted.
I don't think that I can tell Nahan.
He is only just starting his career.
I don't want to make it difficult for him.
At least, I need to organize my baseball notes.
Flip, flip
Father's diary ended in January 2035.
Probably, the cancer had made it too difficult for him to even hold a pen.
After diary entries, page after page was full of theories that Father studied.
There were even many materials from abroad.
And I had never known that he was doing so much for his useless son.
Father's theories were incredibly thorough considering that he had never studied baseball professionally.
I couldn't imagine how many times he had watched the footage of me.
There were notes about how my front foot touched the ground after leg kick.
Exact timing when my shoulders opened.
All the small details filled the pages.
Of course, his theories were not perfect.
But they were enough to give me a general idea.
After watching my hitting form that was created based on Father's theory, my coach said:
That's a quite good approach. Let's develop it further.
Thus, thanks to Father's efforts and a fantastic coach named Wilson, my career changed completely.
Before, I could barely score ten home runs in a season.
Afterwards, scoring forty became almost routine.
I finally entered the national team that I dreamed about and came back with the gold medal.
I received the Golden Glove that I dreamed about.
Even got the MVP trophy in my hands.
I achieved everything.
And yet
The emptiness inside me did not disappear.
What good is any of it if the person who wanted to see it most is not here?
After finishing the bottle, I laid down next to Father's grave.
I regretted everything.
Thanks to Father's advice, I became successful.
But I could never show him what his advice had allowed me to become.
Please
If someone gives me one more chance
And this time I will repay Father.
I'm sure that I will become a son he can be proud of.
This was the last thought I had before falling asleep.
Hey, Nahan! Wake up already! Didn't you say that you had to leave early today since there's a team meeting today?
The familiar voice woke me up.
It was so familiar that I could almost say that I got sick of it.
Seriously! Why can you be exactly like your father? Hurry up and get up!
The owner of the voice roughly threw off my blanket.
The warm air hit my sweaty body, immediately wiping out my sleepiness.
I jerked up my head.
My eyes met Mother's.
But
She looked younger.
She seemed tired from working, but there were fewer wrinkles on her face, and her hair was much darker.
A rather stupid word escaped my mouth without me noticing.
Mother?
Mother? What's the matter with you?
She stared at me strangely.
