Growth Pains in the Top of the Sixth
In the top of the sixth, during a defensive stand, Hong Yu-chan was swapped in for the third baseman, Edison. And from the moment he stepped onto the field to take his position, he knew for sure something was wrong with his body. Especially his legs—they felt off. The ground felt dull under his feet, and the insides of his thighs quivered faintly. His breathing wasn't ragged yet, but his body was sending the warning signals first.
What do I do… The thought flashed through his mind. But he was already in; there was no backing out now. This was the manager giving him a shot. No, I have to do this. And even as a defensive sub who usually came in late, once your name was on the first-team lineup card, you had a duty to be ready at any moment. Right now, he had to live up to it.
Hong Yu-chan glanced at Kim Hu-seong as he slowly made his way onto the diamond. The guy had already played defense through five full innings, stepped up to the plate three times, notched a hit, and even swiped a bag in between. He's trained harder than me—how's he holding up…? But there was no time for more dwelling. The pitcher had thrown the ball.
Thwack!
Damn it!
The leadoff hitter from the Gwangju Pigeons made contact right off the bat. The ball trickled toward the hole between short and third—a grounder. He reacted on instinct and moved, but he could clearly feel his legs wobbling. He was a beat slower than usual, his steps sluggish. I can't get this one. Normally, maybe, but right now? No way it was happening.
That's when Kim Hu-seong flew in from the corner of his vision. There was no other way to describe it—he straight-up soared. Scooping the ball on a slide like he was raking it off the dirt, Hu-seong twisted up and fired to first in one fluid motion. It was the kind of defense that had carried a pro-only-on-fielding guy this far. The throw was quick and dead accurate, streaking like a laser and forcing the ump to punch the out call.
Hong Yu-chan stared, momentarily dazed. …He's good.
He and Kim Hu-seong had trained similarly today. If anything, Hu-seong had done way more. We trained about the same, but how's our conditioning this different…?
He was a defensive sub himself, so he figured he could pull off something like that too. But drained like this before the inning even started? No confidence there. Still, that play just now… nah, good thing he got it.
He muttered that to himself when Kim Hu-seong approached.
"Legs feeling loose?"
After a brief pause, Hu-seong let out a thoughtful hum. "That's no good… with that…?"
What the hell?
The words stung a bit. They sounded concerned, but there was an undercurrent of looking down on him. The stamina gap was too glaring to argue back, though. Grinding his teeth, Hong Yu-chan forced a short laugh.
"Yeah… feeling it a little tough…"
Hu-seong added casually, like it was nothing. "If you get into a spot during defense where you think you can't get up, just toss it to me at least."
What? Ha, yeah right… like that'd happen?
"You think that'll come up?" Hong Yu-chan shot back—half genuine, half pride.
"You never know."
As if.
But baseball had a way of throwing exactly that kind of irony right after you said it. The pitcher struck out the next batter. Now just one more out to close the inning—when a screamer rocketed toward third.
Hong Yu-chan dove left on pure instinct. His body, which he'd thought wouldn't budge, somehow reacted automatically. The ball ticked off the tip of his glove and hit the dirt. He'd at least kept it from getting behind him. But the real problem came next.
As he tried to snag it and pop up, his legs had no power. He needed to rise, but the strength just wouldn't come. Can't put any zip on a throw like this…
That's when his eyes met Kim Hu-seong's. Shit… damn it…
No explanation needed. Hong Yu-chan flipped the ball to Hu-seong. He hated it, but no choice. Will the timing even work?
And Hu-seong caught it barehanded, then rifled it straight to first without a second's hesitation. The motion was seamless. Once more, the ball drilled like a laser. Pop. It smacked into Hwang Do-yoon's mitt at first, ending the inning.
"Hoo…"
Hong Yu-chan caught his breath and hauled himself up with effort. As Hu-seong passed by, he slapped a high-five with his glove.
"Nice toss."
Then he walked off like it was no big deal. Lucky break.
But at the same time, a massive worry crashed into Hong Yu-chan's head. Thing is, I really can't hold out much longer like this? Can I even pull it off?
He'd scraped by this time. But if this kept repeating, it'd blow up big eventually. So back in the dugout, wondering if Hu-seong had any tips, he asked.
"You not wiped? I'm dying here. You look fine."
Hu-seong thought for a sec, then grinned. "Nah? I'm beat as hell. Legs are kinda shaky."
…? You too?
"But defending in this state? It's got that thrilling edge, y'know? Like when your body moves on autopilot even though you think it won't."
Hong Yu-chan had just felt something similar—diving when he figured he was done. But another thought hit him. Wait, he's been fielding like this the whole time? Is this guy insane?
"Shouldn't you rest then? It's dangerous."
"But once you're in it, the body just keeps auto-piloting."
Hong Yu-chan gaped, incredulous. "Moves when you think it won't?"
It sounded ridiculous, but Hu-seong nodded seriously. You could feel he meant it. In that instant, Hong Yu-chan was convinced. This guy's nuts.
"That make any sense? I couldn't move just now."
"That's 'cause your will's not strong enough yet. Like, strong intent makes the body move automatically? I used to freeze up too, but if you stress it like move, damn it, then even in this state, the time it responds on its own stretches out."
Hong Yu-chan, in his fourth pro year, went blank at that. "And in this state, since it's all built on tons of training, the body handles it with barely any mistakes. Heh. So situations like now, where body and mind are max stressed? Super helpful. Plus, it's a real game, so experience piles up two, three times faster—like an event bonus. I'd tough it out! Even better if balls keep coming your way, right?"
Hong Yu-chan recoiled in horror. Hu-seong was a different breed—stamina, senses, mindset, all of it. Standing on the same field, he felt like he was playing a whole other sport. And that terrified him more.
"Don't drag me into your crazy shit…"
"I didn't drag you. You came to learn, hyung."
Crap…
Hong Yu-chan was speechless.
"If you can't hack it, don't. Tell the manager you did one inning on defense sub duty but you're too gassed to go on. Plenty of second-team call-ups who could use the shot."
Damn it…
"Still, you're a fourth-year who's stuck in the first team awhile, so one day like this won't bump you. Ah! Wait, no. Lots of those second-team guys are third-years too, so maybe similar—they might push you out?"
No options left. He'd have to grab his glove for the next inning too. Hoping for that auto-move magic Hu-seong mentioned.
—Strikeout!Lee Tae-sin fans the batter to end the game. Gocheok Turkeys defeat the Gwangju Pigeons 7-2!
I… made it through…
Hong Yu-chan collapsed right by third base, lying flat. The realization he'd somehow endured drained all tension from his body.
"What're you doing lying there? Son Tae-ho hyung sees that, he'll chew you out."
Five seconds? Those eternal, blissful five seconds—shattered by Kim Hu-seong showing up.
"Get up."
Hu-seong extended a hand. Damn…
Why ruin my break? He was pissed, but couldn't show it. Hu-seong had covered most of the remaining three innings' defense with his insane range.
"Uh… yeah, gotta get up."
Grabbing Hu-seong's hand, Hong Yu-chan rose and trudged to the dugout. Is first base always this far?
He shuffled in, started packing his gear.
"You looked solid today. Defense was… your usual steady self, and you drew two walks at the plate. Picking up tips from Hu-seong help? Nah, too soon for results maybe?"
Captain Son Tae-ho said to him.
"Hu-seong's a maniac. Trains way too much. Lucky we survived today, that's all. Those walks? I was too wiped to swing, just stood there and got 'em."
"Yeah? Well… it worked out, so good enough, right?"
"Huh?"
"I think we got a bunch of guys who could use his approach. Especially on our team."
Son Tae-ho got serious.
"We like that MLB style—short, intense team sessions, two-three hours, then自主. Team practice is the killer, sure. But we're the shortest among the ten KBO clubs. Fine for vets at a certain level, but for guys who aren't? Not enough training time to grow."
He eyed Hong Yu-chan.
"Especially kids like you. Fourth year now. First team since rookie year. Decent speed, decent glove—stuck as defensive sub and pinch-runner. You're in the first team, but light training means slow growth. Meanwhile, second-team grinders level up fast, pass you, take backup spots."
…Is that how it is?
"Keep at it. Till you can't anymore."
"…"
Then—
"Huh? You guys not heading out?"
Kim Hu-seong poked out from the locker room.
"Yeah, let's go. Yu-chan, come on."
"Ah! And Hong Yu-chan sunbaenim. Tomorrow, 6 a.m. too?"
Clock read 9:30 p.m. Crash hard, and it'd be time to head back to the stadium.
"…"
Dizziness hit Hong Yu-chan.
"Aish! Don't wanna? Skip it then."
Hu-seong turned.
"They say three days max for new habits, but can't even do that."
He tossed that just loud enough for Hong Yu-chan to barely catch it, then vanished.
"…"
Fuck.