Rumors of the Pitching Whisperer
After giving knuckle slider advice to Ahn Young-hyun, he delivered two scoreless outings over six innings in his next pair of starts, claiming victories both times. Batters couldn't touch his knuckle slider. It wasn't in any scouting data, and the way it dropped was a work of art, making it nearly impossible to handle. Young-hyun hyung was incredibly grateful to me.
Unexpectedly, rumors began to spread through him and Lee Dong-gun that they'd gotten help from me. After that, seniors who'd heard the buzz started coming to me one by one. Some wanted me to check their form; others asked for specific training regimens. At first, I wondered if I should even be helping in situations like this, but their earnest pleas wore me down, and I decided to lend a hand. Most of them were players grinding to make a comeback in the second army. I knew better than anyone just how desperate they were.
When seniors came to me, I'd check their status windows one by one. Sometimes the windows pointed out exact form tweaks needed; other times, they suggested adding a new pitch. Almost all the ones who sought me out were pitchers. Weirdly, word had gotten around that I, a catcher by trade, was some kind of pitching guru. I helped whoever I could. Every now and then, though, there were guys with no notes in their status windows—usually those whose potential matched their current ability. Unfortunately, I had nothing to offer them. Truth be told, I wasn't in any position to be giving advice anyway; I could only relay what the status windows showed.
But the players who did get help from me, like Dong-gun hyung and Young-hyun hyung, all started improving noticeably. Those results showed up directly in the team's performance. Seniors shining in the Futures League got called up to the first team, thickening our roster depth, and bit by bit, the team's standings began to climb.
...
Shin Hyun-kyung, the second army battery coach, had recently noticed the pitchers' skills leveling up. The pitching coaches might pat themselves on the back, crediting their own teaching, but to Coach Shin, that didn't add up. He'd found it odd how often second-army pitchers were visiting Lee Jin-ho. And those pitchers were generally improving—and thriving once they reached the first team.
Shin Hyun-kyung was the coach who'd helped me shuttle between the first and second armies as a bullpen catcher. Famous for looking out for his juniors, he admired my hard work and went out of his way to support me. If games in Seosan ran late and I was rushing back to the first team, he'd even give me a lift in his car. No one valued my efforts more than he did.
That said, in Coach Shin's honest eyes, I had no real talent. He wanted me to succeed, but as a player? No, he figured I just didn't have it. With anyone else, he might've said, "Looks like no talent there—maybe give it up." But seeing my insane work ethic melted that impulse; he could never bring himself to say it. That's how much he cared about me.
Then one day, he started spotting senior pitchers getting chummy with me, training together. And after some time passed, those pitchers' skills had visibly grown. Coach Shin was convinced it all started with Lee Dong-gun.
So he went to see Dong-gun, who was excelling in the fireman role lately. He'd step up as a starter if a hole opened in the rotation and handled all the dirty work for the team. But at his age, having gotten this chance late, he was just thrilled to be playing baseball.
Dong-gun was resting in the bullpen lounge when Coach Shin walked in. He shot to his feet.
"Coach! What brings you here?"
"Yeah... sit, sit. Take it easy."
Worried Dong-gun might feel awkward, Coach Shin waved him down. Once Dong-gun sat, the coach took the seat beside him.
"So... what's the occasion?"
It wasn't common for the second-army battery coach to drop by a pitcher like this.
"Ah... it's about Jin-ho."
"Lee Jin-ho, you mean?"
"Yeah. I've heard pitchers have been going to him for all sorts of advice lately. What's that about?"
Coach Shin couldn't fathom a bullpen catcher giving pointers to pitchers. But those who'd chatted with me left looking pleased, and their stats improved afterward.
"Ah...... um... well..."
Dong-gun scratched his head, struggling to respond. It wasn't embarrassment about getting advice from a bullpen catcher. He was thinking of the trouble it could cause me if word got back to the other pitching coaches.
Reading Dong-gun's expression, Coach Shin pressed on.
"You know how much I care about Jin-ho, right?"
"Y-yes, of course."
Everyone, me included, knew Coach Shin looked out for me more than anyone—regretting my lack of talent, offering all sorts of help and favors. They knew, but no one called it favoritism. They saw how much I poured into the team.
"What if he has a knack for mental coaching or counseling? Maybe steer him that way—I'm thinking of talking to him about it."
Coach Shin assumed it was just me listening to seniors that boosted their morale and stats.
"Ah!"
Dong-gun finally got it.
"Coach, that's not quite it. Everyone knows how you feel about Jin-ho, so I'll level with you."
Knowing Coach Shin wouldn't sabotage me, Dong-gun spilled the details about himself and Ahn Young-hyun. And how the rumors led more pitchers to me.
Coach Shin started out surprised, but his face darkened as he heard more. He knew I had more ability than he'd thought, but this felt like overstepping.
"I get how you see it, Coach... but why not encourage Jin-ho to try coaching for real?"
"Huh?? Coaching??"
"Yes. His talent is the real deal. Not just me—tons of pitchers improved after his advice. And lately, even some hitters have gotten tips from him."
"Hitters too??"
"That's right. A bullpen catcher advising players might raise eyebrows, but if he's an official coach? No issue at all."
"Hmmm...."
Dong-gun had a point. If I showed more talent as a coach than a player, there'd be no reason not to bring me on.
After mulling it over, Coach Shin nodded.
"Got it. I'll talk to the skipper. Second army could use a strategy coach anyway."
"That's great."
Dong-gun's face finally lit up. I'd helped him so much, but he'd had few ways to return the favor.
After the game, Coach Shin requested a meeting with Manager Han Seung-chan. A former nobody player, Han had spent years coaching with the Daejeon Eagles before taking the helm last year. He shone more as a coach than player. The team was still dead last, but his clever tactics and player management kept them afloat.
"Coach Shin Hyun-kyung. What's up? Sudden meeting?"
"Skipper, you know our bullpen catcher Lee Jin-ho?"
"Jin-ho? Yeah. What about him?"
"What if we made him a coach?"
"What? What the hell?"
Han looked baffled at the idea of promoting a bullpen catcher to coach.
"I've heard players have been getting advice from him and improving."
"Huh? Players going to a bullpen catcher for tips and getting better? You serious? Most of 'em don't even listen to actual coaches."
Han waved it off dismissively.
"Skipper, but the team's results have picked up lately, right?"
"What? You saying that's because of him?"
Han's face twisted. Our recent win streak—his credit as manager—now pinned on some bullpen catcher? It stung.
Coach Shin winced, realizing his slip.
"No, no—not like that. Players can shine all they want, but without you holding it together? No way. It's your brilliant tactics and love for the team that's lifting us. I'm just saying, if Jin-ho helps boost their skills, you can steer the ship even better."
Coach Shin buttered him up to smooth things over. Han's expression eased a bit.
"Ahem... well, sure. But for real? Players going to Jin-ho?"
"Yes. Lee Dong-gun told me himself."
Han pondered. Dong-gun had emerged out of nowhere, bolstering a shaky bullpen. That stability fueled our streak. Ahn Young-hyun and others had improved too—he'd even given the pitching coaches bonuses. Now this said it was my doing, not theirs.
"Second army has an open strategy coach spot. Why not give Jin-ho a shot? Worst case, no harm done~"
As Han sank deeper into thought, Coach Shin nudged again.
"Fine. Can't hurt. You break it to Jin-ho. I'll assume it's handled."
Approval granted at last.
"Thank you, Skipper. Jin-ho'll be thrilled!"
Relieved, Coach Shin bowed and left the office to find me, steps light with the good news.
But as he walked, his pace slowed. In the end, this was basically telling me I had no talent as a player and pushing me toward coaching.