We Need a Turnaround
A turnaround was desperately needed. Whew... It was hot. Sweat poured down my entire body.
Today's opponent was the Gocheok Turkeys' 2군 team facing off against the league-leading Eulji Crows' 2군 squad. They'd inherited the momentum from their first team, making them a formidable force. I stood at third base, glaring at the batter gripping his bat. Infield defense might look similar across positions, but each had its critical demands. First basemen needed top-notch catching skills, shortstops and second basemen required wide range and defensive instincts. Third basemen? Strong throws and the ability to handle tough hops. Especially against these guys—their hitters pulled a lot, and with mostly right-handed bats, third had to excel at stopping screamers down the line.
Crack! The pitch came in, and the ball rocketed off the bat. It screamed straight at me—no time to think. I dove right, dirt kicking up as the ball smacked into my glove. Caught it. The second my body hit the ground, I planted my left leg, spun, and fired a rocket to first. The throw buried itself with a satisfying thwack in the first baseman's mitt.
The ump raised his right hand. "Out!"
I let out a short breath. "Whew... Got it."
I brushed off the dirt and jogged back to my spot. No time to catch my breath—the next batter stepped in. Another righty. Please, God. Send this one to Edison for once. How many goddamn balls have come my way today? I dropped into my stance, inching forward a bit. High chance of another liner.
Crack! Another pitch, another blast. Shit. This one popped up high—right at me, of course. I leaped instinctively, stretching my glove. Thwack!Hiss... I felt it, but it didn't stick. Tipped off the tip and hit the dirt. My mind blanked for a split second, but I spun, dropped low, scooped it up, and fired to first—a beat late.
The ball sucked into the first baseman's glove. Pop! Thwack! "Out!"
That was too close. Tension flooded out as the ump called it. "Whew... Intense..." I muttered to myself, shuffling back to position.
Oh Tae-sik leaned his elbows on the dugout railing, quietly watching the game. He saw Kim Hu-seong dive to snag the liner. The ball bounced once before vanishing into his glove. The throw to first was clean and steady. As the ump called out, Oh Tae-sik nodded faintly.
"Handles tough bounces like that so well. His defense is rock-solid... What do you think?"
The chief coach crossed his arms, nodding before speaking cautiously. "Agreed, Director. But Kim Hu-seong isn't flawless."
"What's the issue?"
"His stability is great, but he avoids risks almost entirely..."
"Ah... Yeah, I see."
"Take barehand plays—he never does them. Even when he needs velocity, he prioritizes precision. He'd snag a few extra outs if he mixed it up."
"Hm... So he's too safe."
"Exactly. Barely any errors, but it's a risk-averse style. He took more gambles in the outfield... Infield, he sticks to the script."
The director pondered, head down, then chuckled. "If that's a flaw, it's a minor one. But think about the first-team mess. We could use that kind of stability at third, right?"
The chief coach glanced sideways. "Sure. But with the history... Might not call him up."
"True. What about Edison?"
"Not bad. A shame to rush him up, but he's whining nonstop in the first team..."
Oh Tae-sik smirked. "Personally, I'd bring up Hu-seong first, Edison later. But the first team wants Edison only."
He scanned the field again. "Haa... Guess it's not desperate enough yet."
A cool breeze swept through Suwon Stadium as the game unfolded. Kim Young-ho sat stone-faced on the bench, lips sealed tight. Pre-game words echoed relentlessly.
Director, the front office has waited long enough. With results like this, we can't hold out anymore.
'But... injuries decimated the roster...'
Still, clinging to tenth? Other teams have injuries too. No rebound, and dismissal's on the table.
That line haunted him. Dismissal... They dare say that to me? Forgot last season's second place? Foreign pitchers bombed, and it's my fault? Hah...
Kim Young-ho ground his teeth softly. Rage boiled inside, but outwardly, he just stared ahead, head bowed.
Then—thud. Bottom of the third, runner on first. The batter bunted perfectly, the ball rolling toward third. Kim Young-ho's eyes snapped there.
Third baseman Im Jae-min charged forward, snagged it, and fired to first. But the throw tailed high. It sailed over the mitt, rolling foul.
"Ha..." A heavy sigh escaped.
The runner had tagged to third; batter safe at first. No outs, bases loaded with third occupied. Worst-case scenario.
Kim Young-ho pulled his cap low, eyes shut. Stuck playing with that guy...
No energy left for curses. He crossed his arms, shaking his head slowly. Switch him out? Will it even help?
He racked his brain for third-base alternatives. Kim Han-seong? He's best at short and second. Third would be marginal over Im Jae-min. Better lock him at short. Hong Yu-chan's meh at third or second. Im Jae-min drops off at second. This is the optimal lineup. Haa... Hurry up and get Edison up here...
Edison at third would steady things, even if it wasted his shortstop skills. It'd balance the infield.
His gaze caught Hwang Do-yoon watching quietly from the dugout corner. "Hwang Do-yoon."
"Yes, Director."
"The 2군 guys all defend like that?"
Hwang Do-yoon looked up, giving an awkward smile. "Uh... Pretty similar."
"Similar?"
"Yeah. Catch and throw stability's on par, but bad-throw frequency varies. Third's always a hot corner, right?"
Not wrong, so Kim Young-ho nodded faintly. "Still, some handle it more steadily."
His brow twitched. "Who?"
Hwang Do-yoon hesitated—he knew the director was on edge. But no dodging. "You know... The guy demoted for screwing around with that girl."
"What?" Kim Young-ho's face hardened.
"He's the steadiest on D. Better ball judgment, throw lines. No risky plays, no mistakes."
Kim Young-ho said nothing.
"You can trust me—I've caught for first- and second-team guys."
The director exhaled slowly, gazing skyward.
Crack! A hit.
"Nice!"
"Yes!" Cheers from the opponents. Third-base runner tagged up and scored.
The Gocheok Turkeys scoreboard still blinked zero.
Haa... Nothing's breaking our way.
Kim Young-ho stood, elbows on the rail, staring at third. Im Jae-min tugged his cap low. Kim Hu-seong... That name again. Figured he had something special, which made it a waste...
Crack! Another hit.
"Ooooh!"
"Woooaaah!" Roars from the enemy stands battered his ears.
He drew a deep breath. Another run... Kim Hu-seong... Maybe call that guy up?
"Director."
The chief coach approached. "Edison's about ready in 2군."
"Good news. Call him up next."
"Got it."
"And..." Kim Young-ho scowled. Have to consider it... Kid's stunt was reckless, but...
He thought fast. Edison and Gu Min-seok back, then we can scrap evenly. But scraping .500 won't cut it...
No real rebound. "Next week, call up Gu Min-seok and Kim Hu-seong too. But don't tell them about Hu-seong."
"Kim Hu-seong as well? Understood."