The Substitute Who Wants to Lose
High school weekend league action was underway at Mokdong Stadium in Seoul, pitting two teams from the capital region's A division against each other. The scoreboard showed Seoul Suseok High School versus Seoul Botong High School, with Suseok up 3-0. This game would decide who advanced to the Phoenix Tournament, so the atmosphere was tense and serious.
Crack! A Botong High batter's hit dropped in front of the center fielder. The runner on first advanced to second, putting Botong at one out, runners on first and second—a prime scoring chance.
"Nice! Let's get some runs now!"
"Runners on first and second—our shot!"
Botong High's dugout erupted in excitement.
"Take it slow, take it slow," came the calm instruction from Suseok High's coach to his pitcher on the opposite side.
Suseok's sophomore hurler nodded at the directive.
"Hoo..."
Exhaling deeply to steady himself, the pitcher glanced at the runner on second and fired. Tick! A foul tip.
- Batter made contact.
But the ball rolled toward second for a 4-6-3 double play, ending Botong High's seventh-inning rally.
Yes!
I clenched my fist tight. The Botong batter who hit into the DP trudged back to the dugout, head down.
"Jin-woo, chin up! We've still got chances!"
I called out to my junior with forced encouragement.
"Sorry, sunbae."
But he still looked apologetic. Fair enough—he'd blown the opportunity. For me, though, it was perfect. Exactly what I wanted was unfolding.
Someone might call me crazy for rooting for my own team to screw up. But I had my reasons.
"Kim Jin-woo."
"Yes, Coach."
The inning ended, and Botong players were heading out to glove up for defense.
"Good work. You're done. Come out."
"Ah... Got it."
Tsk, pulled just like that. Can't blame him for yanking the kid after wasting a big chance.
"Kim Hu-seong."
Oh crap, this is bad.
"Yes, Coach."
"You're going in at center for Jin-woo."
Botong High's coach, Kang Dae-man, summoned me. I had massive beef with the guy.
Why? I was a senior. He should be starting me, but here I was, rotting in the dugout. Did I slack in practice? Hell no. Cause trouble? Nope. For some reason, he just wouldn't put me in the starting lineup.
Three years of this—warming the bench, subbing in sporadically. Some games I didn't even play. Today, not in the lineup either, so I'd planned to chill, hype the underclassmen a bit, and call it.
Hot day anyway—resting wasn't so bad. But now even that jerk coach wouldn't let me.
I swallowed a curse, grabbed my glove, and headed out. Whatever. My goal was just to graduate with "baseball team member" on my resume, hit some mid-tier college, maybe become a PE teacher. Baseball dreams? Dead. No point stirring drama.
"Got it."
Fine by me. This would be my last defensive stint anyway. Lose today, and it was over.
Go Myeong-jin, scout for the Gocheok Turkeys, sat quietly in the scout's section, dressed in his usual casual athletic wear and cap. Amid mostly parents and students, he stood out a bit.
Early in the game, as Botong's ace Lee Su-creang took the mound and struck out the first batter, a reporter glanced over, eyes widening.
"No way, Scout Go? What brings you all the way out here?"
The reporter couldn't hide his surprise.
Go Myeong-jin shrugged nonchalantly. "Why? Suseok High's loaded with talent. Worth the trip, right?"
The reporter chuckled in disbelief. "Come on, you know better. Suseok's not even bringing their full starters today. Ace Choi Kang-hyuk's sitting, and closer Lee Tae-sin probably won't pitch either."
"Mm... true."
"Phoenix Tournament spot's locked for them, so they're giving reps to the underclassmen. Botong's throwing their ace and still struggling."
Go Myeong-jin just smiled calmly, shaking his head. "Reporter, what do I do for a living? It's not just the flashy stars. My job's finding hidden gems. Games like this? That's where the fun is."
The reporter nodded. "Man, Scout Go's the real pro."
"Pro? Nah, just bored sitting in the office."
"That's why Turkeys snag all the good ones."
Normally, scouts flocked to games with big prospects, confirming the hyped names. Showing up for a lopsided mismatch like this? To the reporter, it screamed dedication.
Back on the mound, Lee Su-creang labored through his pitches. Fastball sat low 140s km/h, but the ball still had life. Slight arm angle wobble and fading velocity were noticeable, though.
"Ace, huh... Shaking this early? Must've been overworked."
"Yeah, borderline abuse. Classic for a team with one good arm."
Go Myeong-jin leaned back, eyes locked on the ball. "Still solid, though. That control and breaking stuff even when tired? Means good fundamentals. Lower rounds material, easy. Velocity's got room to grow, form's holding—no major fixes needed."
The reporter nodded. "Whoa, scout eyes are something else. Picking all that up from one game? Master level."
Go Myeong-jin tapped his notebook with a grin. "Exactly why I scout these. Hidden talents anywhere. Might even find more potential in a Botong than the spotlight Suseok. That's my focus today."
His gaze returned to the field.
Center field's tougher than it looks. Key part of the up-the-middle defense with catcher, shortstop, second—covers the biggest chunk of outfield real estate. Back up left and right? You're sprinting like a dog every fly ball.
Vast territory means high injury risk, insane stamina required. Bottom line: I'd be running my ass off for two innings.
Ugh, so damn hot.
I scowled toward home, silently begging the infield to handle everything.
Tick! Routine grounder. One out.
Thwack! First base filled.
Thwack! Runners on first and third.
Tick! Infield pop-up, two outs.
Yes, keep it going—sweet.
Thwack! Ah! Shit.
Coming my way. God screwed me again.
Suseok's offense heated up, and now this. No way I catch this...
I sprinted forward, tracking the ball. Flash! Brainwave hit.
Wait—no! Perfect. Let it drop!
Just in case. Three-run lead's shaky. What if we rally?
Hero plays and errors are paper-thin. I'd gift Suseok two more runs—dive and miss.
And... pop!
"He got it! Fresh sub Kim Hu-seong from Botong High with the great grab! That could've meant more runs, but the defensive replacement shines!"
Damn it! Why'd it stick?
Misplayed the landing spot, ended up snagging it. Shit, complicates things.
Still fine. If it's dire, Suseok brings in their closer. Lee Tae-sin. S-grade stud every team's drooling over. First-round lock.
But bottom eighth, Suseok's coach swapped not for Lee Tae-sin, but a freshman pitcher.
Why the hell a frosh? Our heart of the order coming up—not even a sophomore!
Fuck.