Frustration, Joy, and Burning Envy
Frustration, joy, and envy. A disaster had struck. This couldn't be happening.
"Good work out there."
"Good work."
The players from both teams lined up long and bowed before heading off. I'd won, but I trudged back to the dugout with hollow eyes.
"Kim Hu-seong. You did pretty well today. Best game you've had so far."
Coach Kang Dae-man looked at me and said.
"Yeah, so what? Ugh... ahem."
"Ah, I get why you're like that. But let's think positive for once."
Ha... no, seriously. This wasn't it... Now we'd have to ramp up for the Phoenix Tournament with bullshit training. To climb even a little higher, he'd squeeze out even more practice sessions, calling it our last shot. As my worries piled up, the underclassmen approached me.
"Hyung! You were insane today."
"How the hell did you pull that off?"
The juniors crowded around me.
Why couldn't you say shit like that more often, you punks?
"What about it?"
"That infield play at the end. Man, how did you even think to nudge it with your glove like that?"
"Just got lucky. It was fucking dangerous."
"Knew it looked that way. Heh heh."
Coach chuckled from behind.
Ah... shit... Anyway, what now? I thought this damn training was finally over, but now a few more days got tacked on...
"Everyone, good work."
Then the head coach addressed the team.
"Especially Su-creang, who held the mound till the ninth. Great job..."
He glanced at me briefly.
"And Hu-seong, who delivered the game-winning hit. Good job."
Maybe because we'd advanced to the round of 32, the coach actually gave me rare praise.
Hmm... feels a bit short, but better than radio silence, I guess.
"But now that we've made it to the Phoenix Tournament round of 32, time to train even harder, right?"
Fuck it, whatever. Either way, I'm stuck grinding, but this time I won't die alone.
"Exactly. I think it's because everyone trained diligently every day with solid defense (or not)."
I stared straight at Coach and said it.
"..."
Coach's face twisted like What the hell is this kid saying? before he snapped out of it and nodded.
"Right, Hu-seong's spot on. That's what comes from dedicated training—defense like that. Saved the team twice. So like the head coach said, training starts Monday. Round of 32 kicks off right that weekend."
Every player's eyes darkened at Coach's words.
Yeah. Let's all spin our wheels together.
After the game ended, it being the weekend, most players packed up and left the dorms. Their phones buzzed nonstop with messages from family and friends asking when they'd be home; some parents were already there to pick them up.
But I stayed. I wanted every scrap of rest I could get. Sure, part of me wanted to go home, but for some reason, my feet wouldn't move that way.
Going home wouldn't change much anyway. Staying in the dorm alone was more comfortable.
Of course, I wanted to brag to my family about my performance this time, but boasting about a senior subbing in defense? Kinda embarrassing.
Sigh... Back in the dorm, I flopped onto my bed, figuring I'd just sleep.
The next morning, I woke up a bit later than usual. Embracing that limp, holiday vibe, I tidied up and headed downstairs.
Gurgle... starving. Needed something to fill the void.
"Ramen, maybe?"
That's when I spotted Coach at the lounge on the first floor, glued to his laptop.
Huh? Coach. What's he watching?
"Coach? You didn't go home?"
The screen showed the online bracket dropping live.
"Oh, Hu-seong. Nah. Someone insisted on sticking around the dorm, so I figured why not. Usually after advancing to the Phoenix Tournament and putting on a show, you'd head home to brag. Had to stay?"
Ahem...
"S-sorry if it's because of me. I just... prefer resting alone..."
"Kidding, you punk. A few others too."
"Really?"
"Yeah. They partied all night somewhere and crashed late. Oh, bracket draw's starting."
Huh? The draw?
The Phoenix Tournament did online random draws. I peeked over.
High school names scrolled down the screen, pairings popping up one by one.
"Who you wanna face?"
Coach asked playfully.
I hesitated, then answered honestly.
"Honestly... whoever it is, I'll probably just sub in defense. Does it matter?"
Coach's eyebrow shot up.
"Hey, don't talk like that. You never know."
I've given up long ago. I'm used to late-inning cameos, and starting in a big game? Fat chance.
"Hmm... then maybe a weak team. Like a regional champ like us."
I answered seriously enough.
Coach slapped his knee.
"Exactly. Good eye. Gotta face someone manageable to climb higher."
Then he dropped another bomb.
"Oh, and the head coach says he's starting you next game."
What?
"...Me?"
"Yeah. After what you showed. Can't bench you now."
My heart started pounding the second he said it.
Part of me wanted to deny it. But... another part burned hot.
Starting. In the Phoenix Tournament, no less.
"Aigoo... Coach, why didn't you tell me sooner? I could've gone home and bragged."
Coach grinned, eyes locked on me.
"Then go now. Your parents would love it."
I shook my head.
"Too late, I heard it. Time to train."
Coach eyed me a moment, then pulled something from his pocket—a shiny key.
"Training room key. Use it as you like. Go hit now if you want."
I took it with both hands, sighing.
"But Coach... lemme grab some ramen first. I'm starving."
"Pfft. Should've eaten before coming down, punk."
Coach chuckled.
#4. Seoul Botong High School
"Huh? Who's our opponent?"
And across from us in #3: Seoul Suseok High School.
We're fucked.
Thwack!
I was doing tee work. Alone, it was all I could do.
I should be thrilled to be in the starting lineup, but my chest felt tight.
Because our Phoenix Tournament opponent was Seoul Suseok High School.
Scared of their powerhouse with Lee Tae-sin? Nah.
Suseok's core wasn't him—that's why I was terrified.
We made it as regional reps, but we weren't the top team. Suseok won our region; they advanced to Phoenix via another tourney, and we snuck in right behind.
Suseok's strongest? Starting pitcher Choi Kang-hyuk.
The monster clocking 154 km/h average. Rumors said he'd hit 160 max. Without MLB, he'd be first-round, first pick to Daegu McPhies.
Blazing four-seam fastballs, sliders, changeups—natural disaster at the high school level.
And the lefty arm? That's what drew scouts.
Thwack!
I pictured Choi Kang-hyuk and kept swinging. Each contact stung my hands, but practice was all I had.
"Hoo... break, clean up, then more."
As sweat dripped down my forehead, I stepped outside for air.
Catching my breath, a stranger approached.
"Hey! Is Lee Su-creang around by chance?"
The guy blurted it out.
Huh? Why's he hunting for him outta nowhere?
I tensed up a bit.
"Who're you?"
"Oh! Forgot to introduce. I'm a scout for the Gocheok Turkeys."
He flashed a business card: Gocheok Turkeys scout manager.
Ah...
"Uh, most went home. Weekend, and we advanced, so they're off bragging."
"Yeah? Then why'd you stay?"
"Training. It's what I'm used to."
The Turkeys scout nodded, eyes sharpening for a split second before softening into a smile.
"Got it. Keep it up."
He turned to leave, then paused.
"By the way... what's your name, friend?"
"Kim Hu-seong."
The Turkeys scout—Go Myeong-jin—nodded with another smile.
"Right. Good work."
He walked off. Kim Hu-seong watched his back fade, smiling bitterly inside.
Ha... Su-creang's so damn lucky. Scout shows up on the weekend.
Jealousy burned up my throat.
But what can you do? This is my spot. That's his.
I gripped the bat tight and headed back in.
Thwack!
I smashed one hard to vent, then gathered the scattered balls.