Spring's Inevitable Arrival with Baseball
Announcer 1: Spring always comes to us without fail, and baseball arrives right alongside it!
Announcer 2: The KBO's first exhibition game kicks off today—Lions versus Wiz. Both teams are starting rookies on the mound.
Announcer 1: That's right! Lions' Yang Chan-seop and Wiz's Seo Tae-woong.
Announcer 2: Both put on dominant shows in spring training scrimmages, from what I've heard.
Announcer 1: Spot on! Yang Chan-seop overwhelms with four-seam fastballs nearing 150 km/h, plus sliders, curves, and changeups—pure power and stuff.
Announcer 2: Seo Tae-woong's a different breed, though, right?
Announcer 1: Absolutely. He's got elite physique at nearly 2 meters tall, but his fastball tops out at just 123 km/h, averaging around 120. A far cry from the 145 km/h he was touching in intrasquad games.
Announcer 2: The Wiz staff must've been sweating bullets with that 20+ km/h drop. Manager Kim Jin-woong said they ran four precision scans on his shoulder and elbow—thankfully, no injury.
Announcer 1: Whew, dodged a bullet. So, just a style shift?
Announcer 2: You could say that. High school days, he was a wild lefty fireballer with no control. Now? It's all about command and pitch mix over velocity and raw power.
Announcer 1: Strong Arizona camp results have me hyped.
Announcer 2: These rookies sound like must-watch today.
Announcer 1: Haha, same here! Can't wait for first pitch—this winter dragged on forever.
Announcer 2: Haha, you're not alone.
Announcer 1: We're all baseball fans at heart, united with the crowd!
Whoosh! Crack!
'Phew... damn, that was close. A first-pitch meatball.'
Tae-woong wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. Was he thrilled to be on the first-team mound, or had excitement made him tense up his shoulder and wrist without realizing it?
In the top of the first, he'd watched from the dugout as Yang Chan-seop mowed down three batters with 150 km/h fastballs and sliders. It had sparked his competitive fire.
Lucky break, huh?
Ace was right there on the mound with Tae-woong, as always. Of course, only Tae-woong could see him—no one else cared if this guy dropped trou or shit his pants.
Hey! Narrow that arm angle more—like I said! Tuck it in tight. Like this! Buddy! Hey! You see me? Can't you see me? Damn it!
Even through his five warm-up tosses and rosin bag, Ace wouldn't shut up. 'Is this ghost from a talkative grave?'
Tae-woong covered his mouth with his glove to mutter at Ace without looking crazy.
Sigh... drew the frustrating one. Why can't you talk? Spit it out.
"Ace, if you don't mind me asking... you got any special powers or something?"
'Useless motormouth? I'll ignore you to death. Can't kill you, anyway.'
Me? Ahem! This body alone should have third-rate hacks like you grateful just for existing... but fine, special mission time.
And the mission that popped up was beyond imagination.
Live Up to the Ace Starter Role!
A true starter eats innings. Go at least 5 innings deep!
Reward:10 B-Grade Enhancement Tickets upon completion!
'Ten B-grade tickets!' His best weapon right now was a four-seam with KBO No. 2 starter stuff.
'No clue how many'll succeed out of ten... but if they hit, all-in on offspeed.'
If he were a reliever instead of a starter, he'd snag a first-team roster spot easy. A single quality four-seam from tough angles, backed by his control, could handle a lefty or two.
'Five innings... just five, and new pitches plus ten tickets. Focus. Focus.'
As Tae-woong zoned out, the ump signaled to speed it up, cutting their chat short.
Gonna violate the 12-second rule at this rate? Hurry up already!
'Crap!' Snapping back, Ace vanished like he'd never been there.
'Focus. No distractions on the mission. Low-away changeup.'
Tae-woong fired the catcher-called pitch quick. But his cluttered mind tensed his left shoulder and wrist unconsciously. Stiff muscles messed his release—the changeup sailed belt-high middle, wrist snap turning it into a fastball.
Crack! The batter flailed late, fouling it off the end.
"Out!"
Second baseman Park Kyung-seo barely moved, snagging the pop-up dropping right over his head for the out.
Catcher Lee Hae-chan called time from the ump, jogging to the mound.
"Tae-woong, you nervous or what? What's up?"
He'd seen pitchers self-destruct in games from tension—no need to make it worse by getting heavy.
"Whew, all good now. No biggie."
Tae-woong exhaled deep.
"Heh, tough guy... Don't sweat it. I'll score whatever you give up."
Joking to ease the rookie's nerves, he headed back.
"Get it together."
Yeah, yeah. Spot on. Rookie acting cocky? Pathetic.
Helper or troll? Pick a lane, dude. Just one.
Announcer: Seo Tae-woong's pitch catches a bit too much of the plate! Back-to-back mistakes.
Color Analyst: But the batter's late—swings and misses behind it. Weak contact. Didn't see those errors coming.
Announcer: Tae-woong chases the foul, but too slow! Second baseman snags it—over to first! Easy double play. One out! Wiz steals a lucky early out!
Color Analyst: Skill first, but yeah—baseball's got luck too.
Announcer: Total meatball. Solid contact, and it's extra bases. Batter's handling was off.
Color Analyst: Agreed. Tae-woong still shaking off nerves—high school grad, regular-season debut. Can he escape?
Announcer: Check the board: his four-seam's at 120 km/h. Square it up, could be trouble. Pure luck there.
The Lions dugout soured after the leadoff hitter whiffed an easy middle-middle mistake.
Up next: No. 2 hitter Gu Ja-woo, Lions' starting right fielder. A few years later, he'd be a five-tool star, signing a monster FA over 10 billion won—but chronic back issues led to bust accusations at retirement.
'He'll go nuts later... but not yet.'
Unlike Wiz's Arizona camp, Lions trained in Okinawa—no prior looks. Gu Ja-woo only knew the scouting report: slow stuff, various breaking balls.
Tae-woong? He'd crammed weaknesses with Hae-chan last night.
Pitcher advantage in first meetings—here, doubled since Tae-woong knew the hitter, but not vice versa.
Gu Ja-woo's kryptonite: inside, high, and ironically, dead middle.
First pitch: changeup starting middle, dropping off.
The sign came—pristine, right to the mitt in the zone.
'Another meat? Slow as hell, shaky control...? Why start this guy?'
Seemed way behind teammate rookie Yang Chan-seop. Bat whipped at the middle-middle slow one.
Thwack!
'Huh? Slow.'
Board showed 121 km/h fastball last at-bat. This identical path? 106 km/h.
Plummeted vertically pre-plate.
Crack!
'Damn, changeup?'
Full swing on the "mistake"—too late to stop. Strong core and wrists might've checked it, but not yet for him.
Bat grazed the top of the dropping ball.
Roll... Straight to third baseman Hwang Jae-geon, tossed to first.
Gu Ja-woo flung his bat at contact, sprinting full tilt... but
"Out!"
No lefty speed beats a throw.
"Whoa, off-speed like that..."
Gu Ja-woo shot Tae-woong a disbelieving look, shaking his head back to the dugout.
Tae-woong finger-hearted Hwang Jae-geon with a grin.
First-base ump called it safe by plenty. Tae-woong smiled—two pitches, two outs. Confidence surged.
'This mix is clicking. Reverse psychology FTW... wait, no—betting? Bad word choice.'
His slowness was the edge. KBO average fastball: 141 km/h—16 km/h quicker than his max.
Corner strikes from that speed? Tough timing for pros.
Pair with sub-110 km/h changeup, slower than his "fastball." Velocity gap plus mix = magic.
Tempting "hittable" fastball, then same-spot slower change. Irresistible.
Maximizing what he had, no velocity obsession.
Luckiest day ever?
"What am I, Kim Cheom-ji? Hey, that's a sad ending. Bad omen much? How do you even know that story?"
Heh... wanna know my secrets? Truth: I am the system, system is me. And systems link to the net, duh.
"Overexplaining a polite question?"
Ugh, you little—
"Busy here. Cut the crap—what ya got?"
What're you on about?
'Manager system my ass—master aggro.' Felt like bantering with a bratty neighbor kid.
"No gifts? Besides chit-chat?"
Why didn't ya say so?
"Sneaky bastard... Games or people, can't trust 'em."
Too clingy. Careful, or karma bites later.
"Sorry, big bro."
Scraping-by habits made flattery automatic.
That's right. Keep that respect always—you'll be blessed, kid.
'Urk... groveling to a non-human...' Deep humiliation, but fleeting.
Couldn't let it slide, though. Perfect revenge target incoming: No. 3 hitter Kim Sung-soo stepped in.
Grit.
"Senior Kim Sung-soo, sorry, but you're my punching bag today."