Taiwan Spring Camp 4
Taiwan Spring Camp's practice game finally began. The opponent was Taiwan's Fu Bang Guardians. To be honest, they were a lower-tier team even in the Taiwanese league, making them a perfect matchup for us to lightly check our roster strength.
"Alright, here's today's starting lineup."
But... I wasn't on that starting line.
Damn it.
No name in the starting lineup... I thought I'd done everything the manager asked, but even here I'm just a defensive sub... Sigh...
The tension faded away before my name was even called from the order sheet, replaced by a bitter taste.
"Today's roster is..."
"The 2군 best lineup. The strongest we can field based on reputation."
Gu Min-seok answered Hwang Do-yoon's question. Hearing those two rehab players' words hit me with another wave of gloom. So even after all that hard work, I'm still not best material...
"Ahem... Excluding the rookies, just checking the pure existing 2군 members' form?"
"Yeah. Makes this game worth watching, right? If they flop here, the rookies push them out. Nail it, and they might sneak into 1군. It'll be fun seeing them fight for it."
Is that how it works? Skipping us rookies to first gauge the current 2군 guys' true strength. That way, they can figure out where to slot us in later and who we can replace. Which means today's game is a golden opportunity—and a trial by fire—for the veterans.
I mean, doesn't it make sense for those who've been playing longer to get the first shot? Fair, right?
Hwang Do-yoon glanced my way and beckoned me over with a small wave.
"Hey? It's Kim Hu-seong. Come here."
"Yes? Sure."
I scurried over to Senior Hwang Do-yoon's side. He slung an arm around my shoulder.
"Hey, watch closely. See who sucks, who you can beat. That's the key."
"Heh, teaching the good stuff. But he's not wrong. You gotta top all those guys to climb to 1군."
The seniors' words were sharp advice. The disappointment in my chest faded, replaced by a fresh surge of tension.
Right—he's spot on. Since I'm not playing today, I can learn for sure from this game. Gotta surpass that whole lineup to make 1군.
The game unfolded more anticlimactically than expected. I'd half-anticipated it, but not this easy.
We all knew Taiwanese pro baseball lagged behind Korea's in power, and Fu Bang Guardians were perpetual bottom-dwellers. Plus, it was early spring camp, so they were taking it easy.
Our side? Even as 2군, it was our best available lineup. Nail this, and 1군 calls could come—motivation was sky-high. They looked loose, shaking off rust for the season start, while our guys played with fire in their eyes. The vibe was night and day.
Hits kept falling, defense stayed rock-solid, and the mound held steady. By the end of the 6th, we led 4-0.
Then, right as we prepped for the bottom of the 6th, my name rang out.
"Kim Hu-seong."
"Yes, Manager."
"Get in. Shortstop."
I froze. Totally out of left field.
I stared at him in shock, and he added curtly,
"What're you waiting for? Hurry up. Sync up with the vets who've got pro experience."
"Yes, sir!"
My heart plummeted, then raced. I jammed on my glove and sprinted onto the field like my life depended on it.
Sudden shortstop swap? I hadn't messed up, so why...?
Thwack! Right then, a grounder rocketed my way. Rolling fast in front of short.
Other thoughts scrambled my brain for a split second, but my body reacted on instinct. Charge forward, snag it central. Step. Perfect throw to first.
The ball vanished cleanly into the first baseman's mitt. One out.
First defensive play down smooth—tension eased a bit.
Whew... What the hell. Daydreaming? Focus on ending the inning—no distractions.
Thwack! Next Fu Bang batter looped a single in front of center. Runner on first.
Thwack! The following shot screamed toward second. Instinct kicked in—I dashed to the bag.
Second baseman Im Seong-jin charged out, fielded, and tossed to me. I caught it mid-stride, tagged the bag lightly, and fired to first. Ball smacked the mitt; ump pumped his fist.
Double play.
The starter at second, Im Seong-jin, clapped my shoulder as he passed.
"Nice one, number 11. Smoother than I thought."
"Thanks."
I fought a grin, composed myself, and headed in.
Top of the 7th—my at-bat finally arrived.
Opponent pitcher clocked late 130s to early 140s km/h. Solid for a bullpen guy, but nothing special. Changes weren't sharp either. Totally hittable.
Whew... Alright, let's do this.
Whiiiff! First pitch dove low in the zone. No reason to hold back—I swung.
Thwack! Foul result. Big bounce, rolled right to short. He scooped and tossed to first easy.
But I busted it down the line.
Smack!
"Out!"
Razor-close, but out's out. A hair quicker on the swing, and it'd been an infield knock. That tiny bit...
Damn... Faster timing? Or softer contact?...
Regret crashed as I trudged back to the dugout.
No helping it. So... only option left is...
And top of the 9th, my turn came again. Runners on first and second, one out.
I steeled myself entering the box. Bunt time.
Score was 6-0—gap's wide, but practice game; why not try everything?
Choked up on the bat, set. Pitcher tilted his head but fired. I laid down the bunt.
Surprise bunt! Ball trickled low toward third. Good angle!
But faster than expected—straight to the bag. Third baseman slid in, tagged before the runner. Force at third.
Relay to first.
Smack!
"Safe!"
My speed saved me at first. But overall? Botched sac, no hit—just awkward.
Whew... Tough.
"Bring Kim Hu-seong."
"Yes, sir."
Post-game dinner. I entered the manager's room at his summons, already stewing over my hitting woes. Figured a lecture was coming.
Oh Tae-sik eyed me arms-crossed, sighed, then asked,
"Kim Hu-seong. How do you think you should fix your hitting?"
I hesitated, then blurted,
"Practice a ton, keep swinging in the box..."
His face hardened.
"Just bunt forever, then?"
Another sigh escaped.
"Sigh... You've got clear strengths. Speed's up, defense is solid basics. Makes you useful—at 2군 level."
"Useful" perked me up, but the qualifier soured it.
"In this pro league, no hitting means no survival. Yours is too weak right now. 1군? Forget it."
I bowed my head. It stung deep.
But his next words surprised.
"Watched your high school footage, thought it over... From now on, don't swing until two strikes."
I snapped up.
"Pardon? What do you mean?"
"Exactly that. Your contact's better than you think. But that's the problem—you chase everything from pitch one, no plan. Skills suck, so it's all grounders. Skip the first two pitches. Got it?"
"Uh..."
"Smashing every pitch? Talent. But if that talent sinks the team, redirect it."
"Yes. You're right."
"Think more, play smarter. Quit the wild animal swings."
Oh Tae-sik tapped his temple.
"Yeah. Crush the rest of camp. You'll get solid 2군 time then."