Reluctant Shortstop and Pitching Peril
From third base to shortstop. Along with catcher, second base, and center field, it's called the center line—the core defensive positions that guard the heart of the diamond in baseball. It's the most crucial infield spot, and the starting shortstop is the best infielder on the team. But oddly enough, when the manager told me to play shortstop, I wasn't thrilled.
Hmm, I just don't feel like it for some reason. Why is that? Is it because I've been doing well at third? Or...
While I was lost in thought, mulling it over after hearing the manager's words, Son Tae-ho hyung approached.
"Hu-seong, I overheard just now. So you're the starting shortstop now?"
Son Tae-ho hyung grinned.
"Basically, the manager's admitting you're the best infield defender. You should be happy about it. Why the long face?"
I pondered for a moment before being honest.
"I'm a bit thrown off about taking shortstop. I don't know why, but it feels a little uncomfortable."
Son Tae-ho hyung nodded and patted my shoulder lightly.
"Yeah, I get why you'd feel that way. But this isn't your problem. It's Edison's injury and Han-seong's throwing error. You earned it because you did well. And aside from that defensive miscue, Han-seong's made mistakes last season too."
Then, in a low voice, Son Tae-ho summed up the situation.
"Throwing errors like that... We've had similar issues before, remember? Back then, the manager chewed out Jae-min, who was at third, big time. He really hates those kinds of mistakes. Plus, today's game was tight, and we lost, so he's extra pissed. It's not your fault at all, and you need to recognize you're qualified for this."
Hmm... Guess I should think of it that way...
Son Tae-ho paused, glancing toward one corner of the dugout. There was Kim Han-seong, who'd come in after me and was now getting an earful from the manager.
"Well, this'll dent Han-seong's pride a bit."
Son Tae-ho gave a wry smile.
"I'll congratulate and advise you like this, and later I'll comfort Han-seong a little. Man... the manager's on a warpath today."
Son Tae-ho grimaced as the manager laid into Kim Han-seong endlessly. Being captain sure is tough. To keep the team running smoothly, you have to worry about stuff like this too...
With that, Son Tae-ho checked the mood and headed toward Kim Han-seong.
"Hu-seong."
Then Hwang Do-yoon showed up.
"Your third base defense today was killer. I think you deserve the shortstop spot. No matter how I look at it, your defense is more solid."
Hwang Do-yoon, who'd been at first, said it with a serious face. It wasn't empty encouragement—it was conviction.
"I just did what I always do."
"Ugh, quit with the humble act, dude. I saw those smart plays you made at third today—did the manager miss 'em? And your throws? You've improved there too. Must be all that shadow pitching paying off now."
"Huh? How'd you know? I do it every day..."
"Everyone knows, man. When an infielder's throw speed jumps but everyone else trains the same, it means you're doing extra."
"You can improve with other drills too."
"Sure, but catch ball alone? Can't do that solo. Shadow's the only thing you can grind by yourself. Anyway... the ball's coming in faster now. Earlier, you rifled one hard—I was shocked, almost missed it 'cause I reacted late. Just do that at shortstop too. It's the most important spot."
"Tch, but I don't wanna play shortstop..."
"..."
Hwang Do-yoon hyung glared at me for a second.
"Manager says play it, so play it, kid. No competitive fire in you? There's position battles too."
Hmm, is that right?
The next day, team practice began. Shortstop after so long. Stepping into shortstop felt strangely awkward right away. I'd played it countless times in high school, but my body had gotten used to third lately, so it was off. The field of view, the feel of balls coming in—it was all a bit different from third.
To shake off the awkwardness, I moved more deliberately. Stepping in quicker, diving for plays. Hustle-mode defense. At first, the vibe seemed okay, but problems cropped up soon. Rushing in messed up my bounce reads, and throws were slightly off-time. Errors piled up on grounders I'd normally snag.
"Kim Hu-seong, what the hell are you doing? Get it together! You signaling you hate shortstop or what?"
The defensive coach's voice cut sharp. I felt Kim Han-seong's gaze from second base training.
Ugh, he's watching. Wonder if he's thinking I only got it 'cause he slipped up? Fine, own what I need to. Smooth it out. No forcing. Like old times—relaxed. Stick to my range, no chasing wide. And soon, my play shifted. Dropped the itch to step early, watched the ball all the way, picked the safest option. Clean. Basics only.
The defensive coach watched awhile, then nodded.
"Okay! Kim Hu-seong, that's better now. Just like that."
"Got it."
Meanwhile, Kim Young-ho, watching defense, scowled over the pitching staff.
"Okay. Infield's sorted for now. But what about these guys..."
The starter lasted five innings before pulling out. Then they burned the whole bullpen trio to cover: one for two innings, another two, the last one a full one. Emptied the tank—and still lost. Exactly the nightmare scenario for Kim Young-ho.
The pitching coach eyed the mood from the dugout corner. He knew better than anyone the manager wasn't happy.
After a silent beat, the pitching coach spoke cautiously.
"Manager, the remaining two-game set with the Crows will be tough."
Kim Young-ho just nodded silently.
"Their rotation's 2, 3, 4. Ours is 3, 4, 5. We get pushed even against equals, let alone a step behind..."
"Sigh... I know. That's why we're talking alternatives."
Kim Young-ho grimaced, then clicked his tongue.
"Tch... Fine, since it's like this, test the trade guys over the next two games depending on the flow. Bullpen can rest a day or two."
"Understood."
That seemed to wrap it, but then the fitness coach rushed up, face grim.
"Manager, bad news."
Kim Young-ho sensed it instantly.
"It's Seung-hwan. Turns out there's a reason his stuff tanked yesterday. Shoulder’s worse than we thought."
Kim Young-ho hung his head and sighed deeply.
"Haa... And?"
The fitness coach stayed even-keeled.
"Looks season-ending. Brace for long-term absence at least. We'll need an interim starter."
Kim Young-ho went quiet. Then another long sigh as he eyed the pitching coach.
"You hear that? Handle this too."
After defense practice, having somewhat balanced my shortstop game, I was resting before the game. Then I overheard Kim Jin-ho hyung from the bullpen and Lee Tae-sin talking.
"Pitching coach said he'll lean on the trade pitchers today and tomorrow. Plans to call up a few from Double-A too—guys who came up but didn't get chances, he'll use 'em."
"Feels off to overwork the bullpen after two innings each. Used to just throw 'em in to win."
I couldn't believe my ears. Even after losing opener, no bullpen for the rest of the series? Basically forfeiting the two games? Testing trades mid-series like this? Just use 'em if the spot comes up. I hustled yesterday, doing it today and tomorrow too... Pitchers get the sweet deal? Should I slack too? Nah, can't half-ass defense or hitting. Starting shortstop's sensitive now—no slacking allowed. But thinking my grind might mean nothing pissed me off. Should I say something to the pitchers? Felt like giving them a piece of my mind.
But then I pictured Son Tae-ho hyung, chatting everyone up. No. That's not the way. I shook my head, mind clearing. Right—protest pro-style. I ain't planning to lose these two. Gonna grind so hard they have to call up the bullpen. Like yesterday.