No Spot in the Outfield
The moment I stepped into the training field, I could tell there was no room for me in the outfield. As soon as they saw my face, the players exchanged glances, and whispers started rippling through the group.
"Ah... isn't that Kim Hu-seong? He really got sent down from the first team."
"That rumor from earlier?"
"Hmm... goes up to the first team and comes right back down like that. What an idiot."
A moment later, a few guys from my draft class approached. Their expressions were all kinds of awkward.
"Hey, what the hell happened? Is it true? With the cheerleader?"
Yang Hyeon-jin, the catcher drafted in the ninth round, asked me directly.
"Well... it's not exactly wrong."
The atmosphere shifted the instant those words left my mouth.
"See? I knew it. How does he go up to the first team and immediately think about messing around with a cheerleader?"
"Nah, I'm still jealous. He got to hang with a cheerleader, right?"
"Jealous? He might've gotten on someone's bad side and never make it back up."
Questions poured in from all sides, and a few snide remarks mixed in. That's when it happened.
"Hey, you guys here to play around?"
Everyone froze. It was Hwang Do-yoon. Glove in hand, he swept his sharp gaze across the group.
"Play some goddamn baseball, you morons. Bunch of useless shits with too much time on your hands."
The training field went dead silent in an instant. Even the sound of bats hitting dirt stopped.
Hwang Do-yoon walked straight toward me.
"Hey, Kim Hu-seong."
"Yes."
"Don't strut around just 'cause you spent a hot minute in the first team. Get your ass in gear and train properly. No screwing around."
I straightened up and gave a crisp reply.
"Got it."
He glared at me one more time before heading to the far end of the field. The remaining players clamped their mouths shut, grabbed their gear, and the laughter from moments ago vanished without a trace.
Oh Tae-sik stood with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the field. As the second-team game wrapped up after practice, his gaze lingered on one player.
Kim Hu-seong.
"Not bad at all. He's got some real composure in the field now, probably from those first-team games. Stands out even here in the second team."
He'd definitely improved. When they'd first sent him up, it felt like scraping the bottom of the barrel. But now, every move screamed first-team experience—relaxed, assured. His defensive reads in particular looked downright veteran-level.
Still, watching that poise, Coach Oh Tae-sik felt a heavy weight settle in his chest.
But this kid doesn't belong here...
Half the first team's core was out with injuries. Two starting outfielders, two infielders. With the pitchers excluded, four prime starters were stuck in the second team out of eight positions. No wonder Kim Young-ho, the first-team manager, was tearing his hair out.
Pulling a guy like this—who had rough edges but some standout tools—was a net loss.
Still...
Coach Oh muttered to himself.
I can make him even more usable... Base stealing was the issue, right?
He called over the base-running coach.
"Base coach."
"Yes, Coach."
"Kim Hu-seong's gonna steal from now on. Don't just let him run wild—teach him every trick in the book. Leads, starts, pitcher analysis, catcher's pickoff timing. All of it."
The base coach nodded, then hesitated.
"Got it, Coach... but stealing's all about reps to build that instinct. Demos alone have their limits."
Coach Oh gave a wry smile.
"Then make him get the reps."
"How?"
"Every time he steps on first, have him steal."
The coach's eyes widened.
"If the other side catches on, the holds will get brutal. Could backfire..."
Coach Oh uncrossed his arms and shook his head slowly.
"Is getting held a bad thing? Real base stealers get that every time. They know you're coming. The second you flinch at a hold, you're done. This is his preemptive shot."
"Understood."
"Yeah. The Turkeys' first team is that kind of place—data-obsessed. To convince them, turn him into a guy who can swipe bags in any situation."
The base coach bowed his head.
"Aigoo, always giving me the tough assignments. We'll do it."
"Good. Doesn't matter if they adjust. Let him run till he drops. Failures are fine. Eventually, he'll figure out the counters himself."
Coach Oh turned his eyes back to Kim Hu-seong.
"Hoo... I'm beat."
After the game and a shower, I slipped quietly into the second-team dorm. The moment I opened the door, a whiff of dust hit me.
"Ah..."
I hadn't noticed before, distracted by Hwang Do-yoon sunbae's presence, but the place was a disaster. Trash overflowing from the bin, dust blanketing the floor. Even instant ramen cups lay scattered by the bed.
Lazy-ass Hwang Do-yoon had trashed the dorm.
"Ha... Sunbae, you're something else."
A sigh escaped me unbidden. It had been spotless when I left a few months ago—now it was unrecognizable.
In the end, I dropped my bag and got to cleaning. Wrung out the mop, sorted the trash, aired it out. By the time I finished, sweating bullets, it was way past bedtime.
"Ah~ I'm gonna die."
I collapsed onto the bed, and the mattress creaked. As I closed my eyes, my phone buzzed.
Screen lit up: Seo Ha-yoon.
Reading it stirred a tangle of emotions. I stared at the screen for a while, then let out a slow breath.
This was my choice. No point whining now—it wouldn't change anything.
I pondered, then typed back.
Exhausted, I shut my eyes. Might as well make the most of it—start over right.
And just like that, my second-team life began again.
The next morning came way earlier than usual. I got up extra early to get moving when my name rang out.
"Kim Hu-seong, director's office. Now."
Huh? This early?
Summons at this hour weren't normal. Had I screwed up again? I jammed my cap on straight and hustled to the door, knocking.
"Come in."
Coach Oh Tae-sik sat in his chair, eyeing me. A fresh cup of coffee steamed on his desk.
He narrowed his eyes at me in silence, then spoke slowly.
"Kim Hu-seong."
"Yes, Coach."
"You said you want to be the kind of player they have to call up from the first team, right?"
"Yes. I want to become undeniable—so they have no choice but to call me back up."
He took a sip of coffee, set it down, and stared at me for a long beat.
"Good. You've got some spine saying that."
Leaning back, he continued.
"So, what position do you think you should play?"
I froze. Not what I expected.
"...Pardon?"
"Where do you fit in the first-team lineup? You've seen it up close. Tell me the spot you can actually win."
Tougher question than I thought. I bit my lip, running through the first-team roster in my head.
Then, cautiously:
"Outfield... maybe one of the three spots is open."
Coach Oh snorted—a laugh that wasn't mockery or surprise, just the sound of someone who knew the reality.
"And?"
"Infield too—looks like one or two, maybe three spots."
"Oh~ total of four? That about right?"
"...Pardon?"
"No way. Listen up. Outfield first."
"Center?"
"Can't beat him."
"Right. Jeong I-hoon. Heads to the majors next season. Defense is a tad iffy in center, but he crushes .350+ with mid-to-long power. A monster."
I nodded. Undeniable.
His gaze shifted.
"Right field..."
I jumped in.
"Lee Sang-hyeon sunbae. Even if our averages match, he's got the mid-to-long bombs—I can't catch that."
Coach smirked and nodded.
"Exactly. That's how I see it. Gap in power's too big. Team needs balance, no matter how good your contact is."
He locked eyes with me.
"So left field should be doable, right?"
I answered on reflex.
"Yes, against Yu Seong-jae sunbae... I'm confident there."
But he shook his head immediately.
"Nope. Wrong."
I was speechless.
"Left field's Gu Min-seok's original starter spot. You saw him in rehab? Solid speed, great bunts, executes orders perfectly. Locks down the two-hole as the team's glue. Keeps .300-ish average too."
That meant...
"Yeah. No room in the outfield."
Ah, right—this was the team that finished second last season.