Dugout Frustration and Clutch Homer
Yeah, it was my fault. That's how I ended up watching the game from the dugout.
"Hmm... Was this really the right call?"
Honestly, not playing left a bad taste. Sitting on the bench just didn't feel good. But the batting coach was spot on. Keeping my weakness against breaking balls under wraps was crucial—for my personal stats and the team's. It all made sense, especially since I'd felt them testing me outright.
But as time dragged on, my body started itching. With each inning... yeah, sitting on the bench wasn't my style. I needed something else. Not just enduring it—I had to find another way.
I stood up and approached the batting coach, who was standing at the far end of the dugout. He glanced at me.
"What?"
I leaned in close and whispered, "Coach... what if we tried something different?"
"Like what?"
I took a breath and continued. "How about I switch back to lefty and just foul some off?"
"Lefty? No."
The batting coach shook his head firmly. Then he pointed at my legs first. "Your legs have slowed down. The opposing pitchers are racking up pitches on you just to keep you off first base. If they realize your legs are iffy, they might not even pitch to you."
"But..."
"Whenever you get on base, you steal all the way to third, and even from second, you read the pitcher's hands and signal the runners. That's why they see you as a threat. They're pitching to you to prevent you from getting on in the first place, right? Your legs can't even make it to second right now. You're lucky not to hit into a double play in this state."
I couldn't argue.
"We'll talk lefty later. Not now."
"Got it."
Meanwhile, Manager Kim Young-ho let out a small sigh.
"Hoo... frustrating."
The score was 1-3 against them. "Im Jong-hyeon's hanging tough."
They'd only scored one run off Gwangju Pigeons' ace Im Jong-hyeon through seven innings. Meanwhile, they kept giving up runs to the Pigeons—naturally frustrating.
Then it happened.
"Im Jong-hyeon's coming out."
"Who's in?"
"Uh... closer Lee Yong-chan."
"Good."
Manager Kim Young-ho checked the lineup. "Nine, one, two. Not bad."
And when No. 9 hitter Lee Gyu-yong smartly got on first, No. 1 Gu Min-seok bunted him to second. Then they walked No. 2 Kim Han-seong to fill first again, and Manager Kim Young-ho made the call.
"Kim Hu-seong!"
I heard my name from the on-deck circle.
"Im Jong-hyeon's out, so you can go now, right? It's Lee Yong-chan—the guy you homered off before."
I snapped my head up. "Yes, sir!"
The batting coach patted my back, cutting his words short. "Go get 'em."
I grabbed my gear and headed in. "You're pinch-hitting for No. 3 Edison."
As I walked to the plate, I glanced at the scoreboard. Opponent: closer Lee Yong-chan. Familiar face. He was fiddling with the ball on the mound, looking relaxed, but I could tell he was faking it.
I scanned the field. Kim Han-seong senior on first. Playing coach Lee Gyu-yong on second. Infield in standard positions. Outfield pulled back a bit. Awkward defensive setup. Guess they saw me as a homer threat now.
I checked the pitcher again. Lee Yong-chan. Solid closer, but in a jam.
Shhhheeeack!Thwack!
The count went to 0-1. Slider missed big outside the zone. Poor command on the breaking stuff.
Shiiiick!Thwack!
"Strike!"
The next one was a 154 km/h four-seamer. Fastball, but I couldn't help a faint smile. The ball's tail is nasty. Still...
"Even on short rest, it's fresh from the opener. Nice ball," the chief coach said, eyeing Lee Yong-chan's pitches.
"But fatigue's showing. Breaking balls all over, fastball's got speed but no life. So..."
Manager Kim Young-ho nodded in satisfaction. "Perfect spot for Kim Hu-seong right now."
Crack!
A massive crack echoed through the stadium.
I pulled it hard~! The ball sliced between left and center, soaring deep. I saw the outfielder take a few steps and stop.
That's when I slowly lowered my bat. Got it.
My mind lightened first. The stress from the bench melted away. I jogged the bases like it was a stroll.
Three straight days of homers! Four bombs against the Gwangju Pigeons!
Crack!
"Haa... hit again? By him? Ughhh! Why's nothing working?!"
The Gwangju Pigeons manager vented from the dugout, his hand flailing like he was hunting for something to throw.
With closer Lee Yong-chan rattled, he'd been gritting his teeth until the ball cleared the fence—then it all burst out.
The pitching coach hurried over after hearing the explosion and cautiously spoke up. "Manager, sorry. We talked about it with Jong-hyeon—Kim Hu-seong's picked up on a few things."
"Picked up what? After giving up all those homers?!"
The Pigeons manager snapped, face flushed red, voice hoarse with rage.
The pitching coach swallowed hard and pressed on. "Well... looks like Kim Hu-seong switched to righty because his injury slowed his running. And he's a homer guy, but seems weak against breaking balls. Feels like Kim Young-ho's using him strategically."
The manager scowled and turned. "For real?"
The pitching coach nodded. "Yeah. He barely touches breaking stuff. Timing's off—bat late or early. And against slower fastballs, not just breaking, he struggles too."
"Sure?"
"Not 100%, but it's leaning that way. Next time we face him, exploiting it shouldn't be hard."
But that only fired the manager up more. "Why tell me now?!"
The pitching coach raised his hands defensively. "Couldn't say for sure yet. But it's clarifying. A few more games, and we'll nail it. We got caught early this time—should firm up watching the rest."
The Gwangju Pigeons manager stared at the dugout floor, then sighed softly. His voice dropped, exhaustion creeping in. "Fine. For postgame interviews... play it off. Say we learned a ton about the Turkeys, won't lose like this next time. Especially not to Kim Hu-seong again. Tell the players too."
The pitching and chief coaches acknowledged.
The manager refocused on the game. Sure, a go-ahead homer stung, but it wasn't over.
The game ended. Final score: 6-5. Gwangju Pigeons swept in the opener by the Gocheok Turkeys again.
The Turkeys dugout erupted as the last out was recorded. The players prepped to head out beaming.
But just before leaving, a quick huddle formed in one corner: Turkeys manager, chief coach, batting coach, and fitness coach.
The batting coach spoke first. "Kim Hu-seong clearly hates the bench. He even brought up switching to lefty—he's itching to play."
The manager nodded. "Understood."
The fitness coach, hearing the details, concluded swiftly. "Hu-seong's outfield style minimizes knee stress by moving early, but it burns stamina. Resting strategically is best for him now."
He continued. "Plus, if he trains hard on breaking balls, it'll drain him more, and he lacks power against slower fastballs. He needs bulking up anyway. To ramp training without overtaxing stamina, cutting games is optimal."
The manager nodded. "Exactly. He's already Rookie of the Year, multiple hitting awards. Convince him to aim for a step-up this year. It's not bad now—solo homer leader already. I'd be thrilled with five a month from him. He's at four this month alone."
"Right. He crushes fastballs now—if he fixes breaking or slow stuff, he'll be a monster. Tell him to hang tight, even if frustrating."
The batting coach nodded too.
…
"Pardon?"
Meanwhile, packing my gear in the dugout, I overheard and blurted in shock.
The manager, chief coach, batting coach, and fitness coach all turned to me.
"Hu-seong, you heard?"
"Yeah..."
"That's the plan."
…
"No."
"Hu-seong, this meeting's all for your good!"
As I opened my mouth, the fitness coach cut in, veins bulging. "And it's your fault. You showed up too improved—now everyone's expecting more."
How's that my fault?
"Look at the batting coach. Last season, he barely noticed you. Now he's front and center. You reeled him in—you deal with it."
I'm losing it.
"Yep, yep. Kim Hu-seong, your fault. So eat up like the fitness coach says! Train smart like the batting coach orders. Got it? Meeting over! Prep to head out, everyone."
As I stood there dumbfounded by the fitness coach's words, Manager Kim Young-ho jumped in and wrapped it up.
… No way…