A Bat of His Own

They had rolled to an easy win over the Chunichi Dragons' farm team, then been blown out by the Yomiuri Giants' second squad, and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Daejeon Phoenix's third practice opponent was the Gwangju Thunders. Last year's champions, and the clear favorite to win it all again with hardly a leak in the roster, the Thunders were unmistakably strong.

Crack!

The ball split the right-center gap, a booming double, and Phoenix starter Jo Ki-hoon pinched his brow and crumpled the innocent glove in his hand.

"Damn. Look at Hae-woon just muscling that thing out."

From the Phoenix dugout, Joo Min-ho clicked his tongue at Jeong Hae-woon, who had just ripped a two-RBI double and was standing on second. The pitch and the location Jo Ki-hoon had just thrown were excellent, exactly as Min-ho's groan suggested. Hae-woon had swung without a moment's hesitation anyway, and even on a ball he'd caught a little off the sweet spot he had simply overpowered it into a double. Well pitched. Better hit.

The power on him doesn't even belong in the same conversation as high school.

Jeong Hae-woon was a high school classmate Do Kang-hyun had only ever caught on television now and then. He'd been a good athlete back then, but thirteen years on, the forearms alone were different.

Watching that stronger body whip the bat with so much violence, right there in front of him, Kang-hyun understood how little a broadcast had prepared him for it. He could see, plainly, why the man was the home-run hitter who represented the KBO, and why the Thunders had paid him sixteen billion won over six years.

"You at least say hi to Hae-woon earlier?"

"Just a quick hello."

Classmates or not, thirteen years was a long time, and neither of them had the warmth to close that distance. Hae-woon had always been prickly, and Kang-hyun had never been the type to get familiar fast, so they had stood there awkward, traded the barest greeting, and gone their separate ways.

"It'll be weird for a bit, but he's still a high school classmate. Try getting close to him. Personality aside, Hae-woon's the type who quietly comes through if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you actually ask him for something."

"Hae-woon?"

"Maybe he's got some room to breathe these days. He picks up checks, and if you ask him for a hand with this or that he grumbles like it's a pain and then does whatever he can. Last year I was looking to switch bat companies and asked what he was using, and he went and hooked me up with the outfit that sponsors him. That's not an easy favor. He acted like it was nothing, and I was pretty shocked."

At the news that prickly Jeong Hae-woon had even opened the door to his own sponsor, Kang-hyun's eyes went round. The company whose bats Hae-woon swung was one of the best in the country, and as a franchise hitter he was said to get unlimited bats on sponsorship, all year long.

"I'm capped at thirty a year, but that's plenty. One of those runs about two hundred thirty thousand won—call it a hundred and seventy bucks. Thirty of them, free. You do the math on what that saves. Break one in a game and the club hands you a replacement voucher, you send it to the company, they make you another. Some of what I used last year I passed down to the kids in the minors, so thanks to Hae-woon I'm saving money, playing the generous sunbae, and coming out ahead all over the place."

Listening to Min-ho, Kang-hyun had to admit the Jeong Hae-woon of high school had changed a great deal.

"Which company is it?"

"You want to ask him yourself? If saying it to his face is awkward, I can pass it along."

Kang-hyun had no particular desire to put the request on Hae-woon.

I can just have Agent Jang Woo-seok look into it.

Unlike Min-ho, who had already been through free agency and still had no agent, Kang-hyun had one, and a fairly capable one at that.

"It looks like we'll formally execute a sponsorship agreement with Donggwang Base after the preseason exhibitions."

Kang-hyun had asked him to look into bat makers, and Agent Jang Woo-seok had come all the way to Okinawa to say so.

"After the exhibitions?"

"Interest in you is high, and they consider the publicity value acceptable. What they don't have yet is conviction in the performance. Their calculation is to set a proper market rate once the exhibitions are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠done."

"Then I'd better play well."

As he said it, Kang-hyun took a few cuts with the three bats the agent had brought. They were Donggwang Base's most basic model, 870 grams. For one of the top makers in the country, the balance itself was not bad.

"Regardless of whether a sponsorship deal closes, they've agreed to provide thirty bats for this season up front. They can build in five-gram increments, and beyond that they'll customize to your preferences."

At that, Kang-hyun took dry swings and began sorting, one by one, what he liked about the bat in his hands and what he didn't. Whether it was the Spider Sense or not, he could catch details so fine that the old Kang-hyun would never have felt them.

"If we take the weight up about five grams, to 875, that should be just right. And the balance..."

"One moment. Let me write this down. Go ahead."

"Yes. The balance should sit a little under the end, but higher than a true middle. If I had to name it, call it a middle-top. I'd like the center of mass there. Can they even do specs this fussy?"

"I'll make the case as strongly as I can. Don't worry about it. Just tell me exactly what you want."

"Yes. Thank you. I'd like the barrel a little thicker than this one. The length can come down to match. For the knob, a flare shape would be better—something that lets me use my wrists more freely than this. And I want a wood with real rebound."

"If you want it hard, maple is fine, but the most popular bat right now is birch. Power, durability, flex—the whole combination is strong."

"All right. Let's go with that wood, then. Length stays thirty-three inches, like this one."

"Grip thickness, color, finish?"

"The grip on this bat fits me. Thicker is no good, but a touch thinner than this is fine. I don't like tape, so if they can, I'd rather they sand only as far as where the palm sits. Color should be matte. Nothing that jumps out."

He doubted a company would really build a bat to specifications this exact, but as the agent had said, he laid out everything he wanted first. To a hitter a bat is what a rifle is to a soldier, what a pen is to a writer: the piece of equipment that matters most. The truly fussy, high-strung ones treasure theirs so much they hate even letting a teammate touch it.

A bat made just for me.

The thought alone lifted him, light and pleased.

"I'll make sure your requirements get to them clearly."

"When do you think I could actually use them?"

"The schedule is tight, but I'll ask them to have bats ready no later than two or three days before the exhibitions."

"It's their busy season. Still, I'd appreciate it."

"Don't worry."

After that they talked about this and that, and the heart of it was the reaction back home to how Kang-hyun had played against the Chunichi Dragons' farm team.

"Personally, I thought the response would have been much hotter if you'd also appeared against the Yomiuri Giants' second team. I regretted that."

"I know. But the club has its own thinking. Nothing to be done."

As an agent, the best outcome would have been his player leaving a mark on a Japanese club as well. Even so, Jang Woo-seok was certain that once the season truly began, Do Kang-hyun would be a player no one could hide, however ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hard they tried. It was only a question of timing. The result would be the same, and he had decided this kind of consideration—keeping them from grinding the man's stamina down—might even be the better play.

"You already know this, but the greatest weakness I see in you is stamina. No matter how much talent a player has, if the stamina isn't there to support it, he fails to show his real ability. It happens constantly."

"Yes. I've actually been training with building stamina as the focus lately."

"The right call. If you need anything, anything at all, just say so. I'll send you the nutritional supplements a lot of players in the States are taking."

"You really don't have to— ...yes. Then I'll accept them, gratefully."

He had started to refuse and changed his mind mid-sentence. If he was in a position to need help, he ought to take it actively. This was no time to fuss over useless pride or saving face.

"I'd recommend the products that help with muscle recovery and reducing fatigue. I'll narrow the list and send those."

"The only way I can repay you is by putting up good numbers. That's how I'll think of it."

"That won't be nearly enough."

"Sorry?"

Kang-hyun's eyes went round at the answer he hadn't expected, and Agent Jang Woo-seok spoke with a face as serious as the world gets.

There wasn't a gram of humor in him, and Kang-hyun was thrown for a moment. Then he nodded.

"Yes. The best hitter in the KBO, like you said... I'll run at that first."

At an answer that had nothing but sincerity in it, the agent let a smile touch his mouth, thoroughly satisfied.

"...What is all this?"

Joo Min-ho stared, baffled, at the jumble of bottles packed into the parcel that had arrived in Do Kang-hyun's name.

"...I'd have to look to know."

Everything in the box had been sent a mere three days after Agent Jang Woo-seok's visit to Okinawa. When it came to getting things done, the man was as fast as frying beans in a lightning flash.

"Protein powder for muscle recovery, fatigue reduction and preventing muscle loss... BCAA? Branched-chain amino acids?"

Beyond the products Min-ho was reading off the bottles there were vitamins, omega-3, tart cherry extract, and more. The thought of swallowing all of it every single day already made Kang-hyun feel full.

"There's even a detailed dosing guide in here."

The sheet in Kang-hyun's hands broke the day into morning, pre-workout, immediately after training, lunch, and bedtime, and spelled out, in painstaking detail, which vitamin or supplement belonged to each.

Min-ho, reading the instructions beside him, shook his head with a thoroughly fed-up face.

"How are you supposed to remember to take every single one of these? Even if somebody handed them to me, it'd be a pain, and I'd forget half of them anyway. Your agent, though. Unreal. Devotion down to the bone. How's a guy without an agent supposed to live with himself?"

"Weren't you the one who said you wouldn't hire one because the commission's a waste?"

"How much do I even make, that I'd hire an agent? You don't do it until you're clearing five billion won, minimum."

"So this is you giving me shit for having one when I'm small-time."

"Heh heh heh. Sharp-eyed little bastard."

Min-ho cackled, and Kang-hyun couldn't help a short laugh of his own. The agent had even packed cases that held each dose together, so there would be no skipping a round because it was a hassle or because he'd forgotten, and Kang-hyun felt grateful to him all over again. While he was turning the bottles over one by one, Min-ho spoke up, blunt as ever.

"But isn't this overkill? We're back in Korea in two days. He could've just given them to you then. All this does is add to the luggage."

"Those two days might be what makes me stronger."

"...Give me a fucking break."

Kang-hyun had no real answer to that. He had only been trying, somehow, to dress up the agent's sincerity, but from a third party's seat it really did look flat-out ridiculous.