Chapter 13

Chapter 13. Make Sure You Bring Him In

Busan Oceans wasn’t the only team interested in Choi Seong.

The general manager of the Hawks, who had finished ninth last season, was also calmly watching the game.

The reason was simple.

A YouTube video uploaded by a spectator had slowly begun spreading the name Choi Seong around.

“Hmm…”

His stuff was overwhelming.

Of course, a fastball in the 140 km/h range was impressive enough on its own.

But his stats hadn’t been anywhere near this level until last year.

Just what kind of miracle tonic had he taken to improve this much?

“His pitches really are as good as the interview made them sound…”

The operations team leader beside him let out a low murmur.

When he had first read the interview article, he assumed the reporter had exaggerated.

He always read Daehan Sports articles carefully, but they tended to go overboard from time to time.

Besides, wasn’t reporter Lee Yujin still a rookie?

He figured she had gotten carried away and hyped the kid up.

But when he personally called the reporter, she had actually protested that the article hadn’t exaggerated anything.

“He threw a no-hitter and recorded five RBIs. Until they intentionally walked him in his third plate appearance, he practically dominated the entire field by himself.”

Meanwhile, the head of the scouting department had even vouched for him personally.

He insisted that they absolutely had to select Choi Seong with their first draft pick.

“What round were we originally planning to take Choi Seong in?”

“As far as I know, he was projected around fiftieth overall, and we were planning to take him with our fifth team selection. There were about three teams from the Seoul metropolitan area competing for him, but they were probably thinking of using a later pick.”

The operations team leader lowered his head as he answered.

The general manager fell into thought once again.

“Choi Seong… A no-hitter… and nine scoreless innings against Bundang Yatap High?”

There was no question that he was an impressive player.

There were still plenty of things they needed to confirm, though.

Being talented at both pitching and hitting also meant there was a high possibility he would head directly to MLB.

And that wasn’t the only issue.

Since he had recently given such a provocative interview, they also needed to check how the fans were reacting.

After all, Busan Oceans was a club that had to listen to its fans more than almost any other organization.

“Check the reactions on the online communities.”

“Yes.”

The baseball community used by fans across the country, Baseball 9-Dan, was already on fire.

• What the hell is Choi Seong? He’s the hope of the freaking Oceans.

• Honestly, if he’s planning on going to MLB eventually, shouldn’t he come to Seoul Magicians?

• Oceans fans, do you want dopamine? Then raise your heads and look at Choi Seong.

The general manager nodded while browsing through reactions from several communities.

“Let’s do everything we can to secure Choi Seong.”

He paused.

Then corrected himself.

“No. Make sure you bring him in.”

A confident smile spread across his face.

Of course, Choi Seong could potentially become someone who ruined the team’s chemistry.

But if the fans wanted him, then they had to do it.

The general manager had already been cursed from every direction after failing to drag the team out of the lower rankings during his two years in charge.

“Prepare the largest signing bonus in franchise history. If we draft him and he decides to go to college or head to MLB instead, both you and I are getting fired.”

They had the largest fanbase among all the clubs.

And yet they were in last place.

One wrong move now, and their heads could roll.

Choi Seong was the obvious choice.

Since draft order was determined based on the previous season’s standings, the Hawks would be selecting second from the top.

The problem was what the tenth-place Busan Oceans would do.

And if Choi Seong announced that he was heading to MLB, all of this would become meaningless anyway.

“Either way, keep a very close eye on Choi Seong. Send scouts to every single game from now on. And find out whether he can really continue as both a pitcher and hitter in Korea.”

The operations team leader nodded.

“He really went and did it…”

Choi Seong used only two pitches.

A fastball and a slider.

Yet by mixing those two pitches, he completely dismantled the opposing lineup.

The sheer force behind his pitches left everyone speechless.

Two straight wins.

It was Saeum High’s first two-game winning streak since the baseball team had been founded.

People were even calling it a miracle.

Seriously.

Just what kind of team had this place been before I came here?

The school’s students and teachers had become so interested that everyone was talking about our two-game winning streak.

“Haah…”

And I, the person at the center of all that attention, simply spent my days yawning.

The weather had gotten warmer, but I still preferred training in the afternoon rather than the morning.

There was still a slight chill in the morning air, which increased my injury risk by roughly one percent.

It was a tiny number.

Still, I preferred certainty.

[Saeum High Achieves Miraculous Two-Game Winning Streak in Weekend League]

[Who Is Choi Seong? No-Hitter Against Jeil High]

[High School Baseball Rankings Shaken Up… Saeum High Suddenly Emerges as Championship Contender]

[A Long-Awaited ‘Real Deal’ Has Appeared in High School Baseball]

How many reporters had shown up back then?

Around four?

Exactly four articles had set the online sports pages on fire.

However, I turned down all their interview requests for the time being.

We had only won two games.

Getting carried away already would be ridiculous.

During the season, I needed to focus only on baseball.

Of course, there were only five games left anyway.

Still, a season was a season.

If we won every remaining game, advancing would be easy enough.

“Seong-ah.”

Just as I hugged my pillow and prepared to take a nap before afternoon training, I heard a voice beside me.

People had been coming up and asking if I was Choi Seong all day.

I didn’t answer them.

It was annoying.

Some of them muttered things like, “What an asshole,” or, “What’s with this guy?”

But annoying was still annoying.

However, when someone called me that casually, I couldn’t exactly ignore them.

“Yeah. What?”

It was Park Seoha.

He had originally been the team’s number-one starting pitcher before I took his spot.

He was usually quiet.

I remembered him in particular because he was a left-handed sidearm pitcher.

“We have another game this week, right?”

He was right.

Normally, there was around a two-week gap between games.

But there were a few occasions where matches were scheduled only one week apart.

I assumed they arranged it like that to avoid overlapping with other tournament schedules.

“Right.”

“You said you weren’t planning to pitch at all this week, right?”

Correct.

Once I turned pro, I would probably be part of a starting rotation that pitched every five or six days.

But things were different right now.

My body was still developing, so even pitching once every seven days was demanding.

I needed roughly two weeks of rest before my injury risk dropped significantly.

“Right. You’re starting this week, Seoha. Make sure you prepare properly.”

After saying that, I lay back down.

Park Seoha lightly tapped my back.

Tap, tap.

Like he was cautiously knocking on a door.

The sight made me laugh.

Everyone on this baseball team, starting with Yoon Jaejun, had pretty strong personalities.

Yet whenever they were around me, they suddenly became meek.

It was different from when I played in America.

Back then, everyone had strong personalities, so we were constantly messing with each other and causing chaos.

“Take a look at my pitches.”

I stared at him in surprise.

“Ask the coach. That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

We had perfectly functioning coaches.

What exactly was the problem?

“It has to be you… My pitches are different!”

His voice rose slightly.

Even though it was break time, I instinctively looked around in embarrassment.

Everyone was watching us.

“Why are you saying it like you’re confessing your feelings…? Besides, I watched your pitches all winter.”

Our third game was against Jamsil Saenae High.

They were considered weaker than Bundang Yatap High and Jeil High, the two teams we had already faced.

Like I mentioned before, the league was currently classified as two strong teams, three middle-tier teams, and one weak team.

We had already defeated both of the strong teams.

That meant we had reached a position where we could relax a little.

“Still… can you look at them just once?”

I let out a sigh.

Of course, we could still win or lose.

But I wasn’t such a terrible person that I would reject someone who had come to me first because he genuinely wanted to learn.

“What part do you want help with?”

A left-handed submarine pitcher.

That was Park Seoha’s unusual characteristic.

Left-handed pitchers using a submarine delivery were extremely rare to begin with.

Even in MLB, you only saw someone like that once every few years.

“My velocity isn’t coming out properly…”

There was an old saying in professional baseball.

Even if a pitcher didn’t throw particularly hard, he could still rack up strikeouts as long as he could consistently place the ball exactly where he wanted.

We called those pitchers finesse pitchers.

Park Seoha, who served as the team’s number-two starter, showed potential to become one.

“Focus on controlling your breaking balls instead of worrying about velocity.”

After saying that, I had him throw a few pitches.

Watching came first.

One of the biggest reasons young prospects lost their way was simple.

They treated throwing hard as the ultimate virtue and poured everything into velocity.

• 130 km/h

His four-seam fastball wasn’t particularly fast.

But it curved inward like a snake.

Park Seoha clearly looked disappointed when he saw the velocity.

“What was your ERA last year?”

“11.75…”

The fact that he had still consistently appeared in games despite that ERA was probably because the coaches saw potential in his pitches.

Or maybe the other pitchers were even worse.

“Your problem isn’t velocity right now. Throw your curveball.”

A curve in the 110 km/h range came in.

If he properly utilized its vertical movement, it could become a useful pitch.

The biggest weakness was that his command was wildly inconsistent.

On days when everything clicked, he pitched decently.

But when it didn’t, he got absolutely destroyed.

It all came down to command.

“Go through your pitching motion until the moment before you release the ball. Looking at you now, your plant foot keeps landing differently every time. Imagine that you’re planting your foot right here whenever you throw.”

I kindly dug into the dirt and marked where his landing foot should go.

For submarine pitchers, their movement was affected by how low they could extend their arm.

And their control depended heavily on how consistently they landed with their lead leg.

“Bend your waist lower and extend your arm farther downward. Let’s focus on fixing your pitching form before the game.”

Park Seoha’s expression immediately brightened.

“Th-Thanks.”

The way he smiled shyly made him look like he was about to confess something.

For the record, I absolutely hated getting hit on by men.

Back when I played in America, plenty of people had tried inappropriate things because they assumed I was some meek Asian kid.

“Forget the confession. Just train properly.”

“N-No! That’s not what I meant. I’ll treat you at the unlimited barbecue place in front of our school.”

“I don’t really eat frozen pork belly.”

Park Seoha let out a huge sigh.

Then he simply continued listening to everything I told him.

I genuinely didn’t eat frozen meat at all.

Seven days passed in the blink of an eye.

I focused on batting.

Park Seoha focused on pitching.

How many more wins did we need before we could realistically call ourselves champions?

Still, it was too early to relax.

It wasn’t like I could pitch every single week.

“Seoha. Whatever happens, don’t let your mentality collapse.”

Before the game, Coach Park Seonghyeon spoke to Park Seoha in a firm voice.

A nervous Park Seoha nodded.

Today, I was playing second base.

Kim Gyeongtaek, whose batting form hadn’t been particularly good lately, was sitting out while I took his spot.

Saeum High Lineup

• Starting Pitcher: Park Seoha

• 1st Batter: Kwon Geonwoo (Center Fielder)

• 2nd Batter: Choi Seong (Second Baseman)

• 3rd Batter: Yoo Jiseong (Third Baseman)

• 4th Batter: Yoon Jaejun (Catcher)

• 5th Batter: Park Byeonggyu (First Baseman)

• 6th Batter: Park Jageun (Right Fielder)

• 7th Batter: Geum Taesang (Left Fielder)

• 8th Batter: Park Seoha (Starting Pitcher)

• 9th Batter: Kim Jeongtae (Shortstop)

The rest of the lineup remained unchanged.

“If we win this third game, our chances of winning the league will be higher than ever. You can all do this, right?”

“YES!”

The players answered loudly.

This game would prove whether Park Seoha was actually useful.

I had given him an intensive crash course on his release point and plant foot.

However, the results would only show if his mentality didn’t collapse first.

“Play ball!”

The game began.

And the very first pitch Park Seoha threw hit the leadoff batter.

A collective sigh erupted from the bench.