I'll Smash Them All
The next day, the sharp crack of bat meeting ball echoed from the batting cage in the morning.
"Whoa! Kim Hu-seong, you're swinging a bit harder today, huh?"
Hwang Do-yoon, who'd come to watch, grinned from the side.
"Figured I'd go a little more aggressive today."
"Yeah? I'd actually recommend not swinging at all."
"Not swing?"
"Yep. Your opponent's James."
Hwang Do-yoon wasn't wrong. James—the guy who'd made a name for himself with his sweeper since the exhibition games. I'd toyed with him in the opener, but now the odds were reversed.
"Eh, doesn't matter when you're left-handed. But now you're like me and Tae-ho hyung. Same style. Gotta watch out for that type. It's a nightmare for us righties."
I got it right away from his explanation. I knew it in my head. But...
"Got it. Still, I wanna face the breaking balls."
I nodded slowly and prepared to hit again.
"You're crazy. Do you."
No other choice. Better than standing there and striking out. If I kept whiffing in practice, I'd get owned tomorrow too. I had to clash with it once more today, get used to hitting it. Sure, I'd probably get used to failing faster.
I relaxed my grip on the bat, exhaled long and deep. Imagined the pitch coming in. A fastball that suddenly dipped at the end—a sweeper. A breaking ball teasing the strike zone, luring the bat out.
Whoosh!
I swung, but the trajectory looked tricky. Definitely tough. I planted my legs firm, swung short and choppy. Nah. Too weak—won't carry. Even solid contact would be a routine fly to the outfield.
I inhaled again.
"Again. One hundred more."
As the game started, I trotted out to center field. That's where they'd slotted me today. Center's the heart of the outfield—one slow read, and it turns into runs. Lots of ground to cover, drains the stamina faster... but deep down, I was glad.
Center means constant movement, so digestion comes quick. Get the stomach settled fast, play in better shape. Perfect for my goal.
I spiked the outfield grass once more to feel it out, scanned around. Kim Seok-hyeon in left, Lee Gyu-yong in right. Kim Han-seong at second, Edison at short. Checked their spots again, locked in.
Just as I sorted it mentally, second starter Michael faced leadoff hitter Kang Do-yoon.
I leaned forward a hair during the first pitch watch, dropped into ready stance. First one's a ball. Second pitch—crack!
The ball squirted between short and third, rolling toward left. Clean hit. I twitched forward instinctively, then stopped, clicking my tongue.
"Close. If it'd just gone a bit more toward short..."
But it was done. Next play mattered.
No. 2 hitter Lee Sang-hoon stepped up, bunting right away. The infield tensed up a notch. Bunting looks simple, but it flips the whole shift and throw routes. Outfield too.
I crept forward slow, prepping for a bunt that might go farther than expected, shifting bit by bit. Eyed Kang Do-yoon's lead off second too.
He was geared to bolt for second the second the bunt rolled.
Screeech—pop!
First bunt failed. Ball up and in, Lee Sang-hoon yanked back in surprise. Ball one. Next pitch, he laid one down. It trickled forward; he sprinted to first.
I surged ahead on instinct. Third baseman Hong Yu-chan charged in, fielded clean, fired to first. Good—so far.
But then my eyes flicked to second for a split second. Kang Do-yoon touched it. Kim Han-seong was up front on the bunt. Short was covering third.
So... second base was wide open. Just for that beat.
Empty. And...?
It hit my vision before my brain; my body moved first. This could work...?
Seeing second vacant, your feet naturally overshoot. Sure enough, Kang Do-yoon glided past, peeking the situation.
The instant he passed second and turned— I was already charging, full sprint to the bag.
Outfielders don't cover second often. But this? Exception. Someone had to fill it, and I was closest.
Nearly at the bag, I glanced first. Hwang Do-yoon, seeing my glove flick toward second, faked to the pitcher and lobbed it over casual-like. Perfect timing—ball'd arrive as I did.
Caught it clean. Tagged instantly. Dugout erupted from third as Kang Do-yoon flinched back to retouch.
Too late. Tag beat his spike.
"Out."
Umpire's hand up.
"Nice!!"
Cheers from first-base dugout. I held the stare on Kang Do-yoon a beat longer post-tag. Runner looked robbed.
Broadcast jumped in right away.
As the cheers died, I jogged back to center, dropped low. Game was just starting.
Nice start.
Defense wrapped; our turn at bat. Bottom of the first. I strolled to the plate slow. Board read one out, man on first—Kim Han-seong hyung.
I glared straight at starter James.
Alright, aggressive it is.
Mind was set, but facing him on the mound? A twinge of fear. Guy posting sub-2.00 ERA on sweepers alone. Tension crept in.
Shhhheee—
First pitch: it. Fastball start, then the signature sweeper slide. I swung through. Whiff.
Big miss. Classic James sweeper.
Irritation flared, but I shoved it down. Planned aggressive from the jump. This happens. Key's what follows.
Now what...?
Shhhheee—
Second: sweeper again. Same slide. I clocked it from his windup. Obvious choice. Swing? Take? Brain split fifty-fifty.
Forced the bat back mid-commit. Ball slipped outside.
Whew...
Then a weird thought flashed: Just lay off sweepers—they all go ball?
But chasing that? Quicksand. Or maybe he aimed strike and missed. Against me, at least.
No waiting. Go time.
Shook my head, long exhale. Reset sights on James.
Nodded at the catcher's first sign.
Shhhheee—
Eyes widened. Sweeper, yep. Far... outside.
Body lagged half-beat. Wrenched wrists desperate.
Still...
Thwack!
Made contact.
Ball rocketed out. Yes! Looked deep, but right fielder snagged it at the warning track. Out called.
But I felt good. Solid. In this shape? Not bad at all.
Breaking balls? I'll smash 'em all.