Switch Between Offense and Defense
Lee Ho-seok approached Yoo Min-hoo as he stepped down from the mound, leaving Kim Yong-soo standing dazed at the plate, and threw an arm around his shoulders.
"Whoa! Perfect relief pitching!"
"Yeah, I got lucky."
Lee Ho-seok released the shoulder hug as Yoo Min-hoo chuckled.
"What do you mean 'humble'? You struck him out on three pitches. So, what was that last one?"
He'd gotten the out, but Yoo Min-hoo still couldn't quite figure out what the pitch had been. Lee Ho-seok's deception—hiding the pitch type until release—had been flawless, fooling even him into thinking it was a mistake until it dropped. And crucially, it was a pitch type Lee Ho-seok had never caught before.
Yoo Min-hoo answered Lee Ho-seok's question flatly.
"Circle changeup."
"Circle changeup?"
Lee Ho-seok looked surprised. Changeups were practically essential in modern baseball. They weren't hard to throw and effectively amplified a fastball's power. But it was rare to see a high schooler throw a proper one. They were easy to grip but required advanced technique for real bite.
The arm swing and release had to perfectly mimic a fastball. Hitters with sharp eyes could read the pitch just from the motion.
Eventually, the changeup became a staple in Major League Baseball, distinguishing major leaguers from minor leaguers based on mastery.
Before his regression, Yoo Min-hoo had handled the circle changeup decently. The issue was his weak fastball velocity, which limited its impact.
At the high school level, proper changeups were tough, and no North Myeong High pitchers threw one. So Lee Ho-seok had no choice but to experience it for the first time.
"Damn... That notoriously tough changeup... Impressive. You should take the mound next inning too."
"Nah, that's impossible."
Yoo Min-hoo shook his head coolly.
"Why?"
"If it hadn't been Kim Yong-soo up there, I would've gotten shelled without mercy and given up runs."
Lee Ho-seok looked puzzled at that.
Great hitting technique and power. A smart head, and sharp eyes—all combining to create that strikeout.
Lee Young-gon muttered to himself as he watched the teams switch between offense and defense.
Kim Yong-soo, always brimming with confidence from his elite bat skills and power, had swung at the first pitch with his timing for facing a new pitcher, only to miss the slow speed and foul it off for a strike.
His smarts let him observe cautiously for the second strike.
And the third—leading with his keen eyesight, he'd analyzed the first two pitches, assumed it was a fastball, swung... and got perfectly fooled by the breaking ball.
The story pieced itself together in Lee Young-gon's mind.
If it had been any ordinary hitter instead of Kim Yong-soo, he'd have roped a hit on the first pitch and we'd have seen a big inning. Kim Yong-soo's strengths made a perfect trap.
Lee Young-gon leaned on the railing, watching Yoo Min-hoo return to the dugout.
Of course, none of it was pure luck. It was too calculated for coincidence.
"That pitcher's pro-level."
"Pardon?"
Park Hana, overhearing Lee Young-gon's mutter, looked baffled.
"A guy topping 120 km/h is pro-level?"
"Not the velocity. Everything else is pro caliber."
The pickoff moves, the cunning exploitation of the opponent's strengths—it wasn't high school ball. Especially that circle changeup inducing the whiff; no high schooler should command that.
Low velocity meant low threat overall, but he'd still struck out Kim Yong-soo clean on three pitches.
Where the hell did a pitcher like that come from?
Yoo Min-hoo had escaped the jam with two outs, but as expected, he was replaced by another pitcher next inning. Pitching coach Han Myeong-hwan patted his shoulder, praising him lavishly.
North Myeong High added two more runs to win 4-2.
As cleanup wrapped up, Lee Young-gon approached the Gyeongsang High team boarding their bus.
"Close one, Coach Kang."
"Well, if it isn't you."
Gyeongsang High coach Kang Hak-gyu recognized him and smiled warmly.
"What do you think of North Myeong High?"
"They've improved a lot. Might have to watch out this year."
Lee Young-gon thought to himself as Kang Hak-gyu chuckled heartily.
Still a sly fox.
Gyeongsang High hadn't gone all-out in the scrimmage.
"Haha, you're exaggerating. Anyway, what impressed you most today?"
"Impressed...?"
Kang Hak-gyu stroked his chin thoughtfully, then frowned slightly.
"North Myeong's second pitcher, probably."
After the game, as Park Sung-tae directed cleanup, Lee Young-gon and Park Hana—fresh from a quick interview with Gyeongsang High—approached.
"Long time no see."
"Haha. Park Sung-tae the player, or should I say Coach now?"
Lee Young-gon grinned good-naturedly and offered a handshake. He'd covered Park Sung-tae since his playing days, building familiarity early in his career.
After shaking hands, Lee Young-gon spoke up.
"Great game today. North Myeong looks way better this year. Even Coach Kang said he's on notice."
"Glad you think so."
Park Sung-tae smiled faintly.
"By the way, Coach, there was an intriguing pitcher today."
"The second one?"
"Yes. Never seen him before—who is he?"
Park Sung-tae paused, eyes lighting up at Lee Young-gon's curiosity. Yoo Min-hoo had come to Korea instead of rehabbing in the US to avoid reporters.
"Transfer student."
"Transfer?"
"Yeah, was in the States for personal reasons and came back this year."
"..."
As Park Sung-tae intended, the reporter in Lee Young-gon was hooked.
"It's his personal business, so I'd rather not say more."
Lee Young-gon hesitated, mouth opening for a follow-up, but Park Sung-tae cut him off cleanly—a clear boundary.
Tch.
Lee Young-gon swallowed his curiosity.
"Fair enough. Still, intriguing player. Looking forward to his exploits. Oh, mind if I interview Lee Ho-seok?"
"Go ahead."
Lee Young-gon pivoted smoothly to his main goal, interviewing Lee Ho-seok.
As they headed to the parking lot afterward, Park Hana eyed him quizzically.
"Not like you to hold back on curiosity, sunbae."
Lee Young-gon clucked his tongue softly.
"When someone draws a line like that, it means they don't want to share. No point stirring trouble."
Lee Young-gon's rise to prominence in Korean sports media came from talent and savvy people skills. Reporting bred enemies, but he'd dodged drama, nurturing ties across baseball.
Park Sung-tae had bounced in the minors late-career but was Korea's top leadoff hitter, even tasting MLB with solid results. His influence lingered—no need to sour it.
Transfer student, huh...
***
On the way home, Yoo Min-hoo felt considerable unease. The cause? Lee Ho-seok's sister, Lee Yoon-ji.
"Hey, little bro."
Thwack.
Lee Ho-seok teased, and Lee Yoon-ji punched his back—hard enough to make him wince.
Yoo Min-hoo shook his head inwardly at the sight.
As kids, he'd played often with the siblings, remembering Lee Yoon-ji as a boy from all the soccer and catch. A lively boy in his memories.
Now revealed as a girl, it felt oddly off. And Lee Ho-seok kept ribbing her about it, souring the mood.
Ignoring her groaning brother, Lee Yoon-ji glanced at Yoo Min-hoo. Their eyes met; he shrugged, she scoffed softly and looked away.
This is awkward, Yoo Min-hoo thought at her haughty vibe.
Arriving home, Lee Yoon-ji gave Yoo Min-hoo a curt "See ya" and headed inside first.
Watching her go, he muttered,
"Guess I messed up big time."
"Don't mind her. She's sensitive."
Lee Ho-seok smirked.
"Back in middle school, her tomboy side got her teased a lot. Nickname was 'boy-girl' or something. Hates being treated like one."
"And you tease her anyway?"
"She won't sulk forever."
Lee Ho-seok shrugged.
"Anyway, I'm heading in."
He waved casually and went home. Yoo Min-hoo waved back, then entered his own.
After a quick shower, before dinner, Yoo Min-hoo reviewed the game in his room. Stomach rumbling, but not mealtime yet.
Sitting with hand grippers in each fist, he stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.
Body moved better than expected. The changeup felt sharper in the game than practice.
He'd given his best. But today's success was situational, against Kim Yong-soo.
Pitching form's settling in. More throws, and velocity will climb.
120 km/h was nothing against high school hitters, but 130 changed everything.
Biggest win today: Got some notice from Coach...
"Min-hoo, dinner!"
Yoo Min-hoo snapped up from his reverie. For now, hunger ruled.