Sparking the Flames of Competition
While the first-half weekend league was underway, Jeju High, having toppled North Myeong High, emerged as the league's most formidable dark horse. After beating North Myeong, they continued their streak with victories over Busan High and Donga High, securing three straight wins. At the center of that surge was, of course, Lee Soo-min.
Stories about Lee Soo-min, with his blistering top speed of 152 kilometers per hour, were captivating. A native of Jeju Island, he had been playing on the baseball team since third grade in elementary school. But it was little more than a club in name only—they had never even qualified for a national tournament. He shone in local competitions, but it wasn't enough to put him on the national map. His elementary and middle school coaches were all amateurs from adult recreational leagues, clueless about the game. They had no idea what phenomenal talent they had on their hands, which was the main reason Lee Soo-min flew under the radar for so long.
"When we welcomed the new freshmen, there was this big, strapping kid I didn't recognize at all. Figured he could at least throw a bit, so I had him pitch... and I was speechless. My God. How had a monster like this stayed hidden until now?"
That was from an interview with Coach Shin Jeong-gil. From his perspective, it was like stumbling upon buried treasure he never saw coming.
Whatever the reasons, Lee Soo-min quickly became a prospect drawing interest from pro teams. Meanwhile, a few reporters published in-depth analyses on him, turning him into quite the hot topic in high school baseball circles.
While Jeju High was pulling off these unexpected heroics, North Myeong High—still smarting from their opening loss to Jeju—dominated Donga High and Busan Cyber High. Overshadowed by Jeju's story, North Myeong's drastically improved roster from the previous year was also turning heads.
As the first-half league schedule progressed steadily, Yoo Min-hoo kept up his own rigorous training. His pitching form was becoming second nature, and he was conditioning himself to throw for longer stretches without strain. His body was so evenly developed that adapting his right arm took no time at all. His velocity wasn't spiking overnight, of course, but his pinpoint control and command of breaking pitches were sharpening noticeably.
Before his regression, Yoo Min-hoo had been a classic crafty pitcher, mixing five pitches: four-seam fastball, two-seam fastball, circle changeup, curveball, and slider. He couldn't throw them all confidently yet. For now, he was zeroing in on the two-seam and circle changeup.
Unfortunately, he still hadn't seen a single inning of real game action. He was the quintessential benchwarmer, skipping even intrasquad scrimmages. His odd presence left North Myeong students scratching their heads.
"Hm."
April 2nd, Saturday afternoon. With the fourth weekend league game wrapped up and a quick postgame briefing done at school, the players dispersed. In the now-empty coach's office, Director Park Sung-tae let out a short sigh as he sat.
They'd beaten Busan High today without much trouble. Since Park Sung-tae took over, North Myeong High had transformed. The biggest change in their once-corruption-riddled lineup came from the coaches' own pockets—no more bribes. Now, selections were merit-based. Players trusted the staff and pushed themselves to prove their worth. For rapidly growing high school ballplayers, it was the ideal environment. The board chairman's choice in hiring Park Sung-tae had paid off perfectly.
In the end, they hit a .500 winning percentage in the weekend league, clinching a spot in the Golden Lion Tournament.
Busan Industrial High isn't much of a threat with our current roster, either.
Creeeak.
Leaning back deep into his office chair, it groaned in protest. After a moment of silence, Park Sung-tae curled his lips into a smirk and muttered.
"Time to stir up some tension, maybe?"
April 4th, Monday. Heading out as usual, Yoo Min-hoo naturally ran into the two siblings emerging from next door: Lee Ho-seok and Lee Yoon-ji.
"Morning."
Yoo Min-hoo greeted them with a smile, and Lee Ho-seok shot back cheerfully, "Oh! Morning!" He was riding high after crushing a home run against Busan High last weekend. Unlike her upbeat brother, Lee Yoon-ji mumbled a quiet "Hello" under her breath.
Seeing her like that, Yoo Min-hoo scratched his cheek. Things had stayed awkward between him and Lee Yoon-ji since that day. Face-to-face encounters were inevitably stiff.
The uneasy vibe lingered all the way to school, leaving the sandwiched Lee Ho-seok uncomfortable. Truth be told, he was the root cause. The day Yoo Min-hoo realized his childhood playmate from memory was actually a girl, big brother Lee Ho-seok had come home and relentlessly teased her about being a "little brother."
Her cute little reactions every time I poked fun...
Of course, her retaliatory swats stung. In the end, though, Lee Ho-seok's nonstop ribbing had genuinely hurt her feelings.
Sensing he needed to fix this, Lee Ho-seok pondered briefly before clapping his hands lightly. Yoo Min-hoo and Lee Yoon-ji both turned to him at the sudden move.
"Forgot something at home. Be right back."
"Won't you be late for morning practice?"
"Nah, I'll sprint. You two go ahead."
With that, Lee Ho-seok backtracked the way he'd come. Watching him go, Yoo Min-hoo let out a dry chuckle.
What an obvious lie...
He glanced sideways, then shook his head. Lee Yoon-ji stared at her brother's retreating figure with a look of utter disbelief.
As Yoo Min-hoo watched her, their eyes met when she suddenly turned. She whipped her gaze forward again. Scratching his head at the sight, he spoke up.
"If you're still mad about that day, let me apologize again."
"..."
She glanced back at him and sighed softly.
"No need to apologize. It's all that idiot brother's fault."
Yoo Min-hoo replied to her laced-with-resentment grumble.
"I was the one who started it."
Lee Yoon-ji pouted at his words.
"What? If you say it like that, I come off as petty."
Yoo Min-hoo chuckled lowly. Watching him, Lee Yoon-ji felt a flicker of bewilderment. Truthfully, she had no real reason to ice him out. Sure, she had a complex about being mistaken for a boy, but Yoo Min-hoo hadn't done anything majorly wrong. If anything, her brother was to blame for the hurt feelings. Yoo Min-hoo had every right to be annoyed himself, yet here he was, considerate and trying to smooth things over. It was worlds apart from her brother, who had ditched them with some half-baked "solution" to "improve things."
Lee Yoon-ji had never met someone her age quite like this.
He's so mature.
But to Yoo Min-hoo, with the mindset of a late-20s pro who'd endured minor league hell, her reaction was endearingly childish.
After staring at him a moment, Lee Yoon-ji said.
"Sorry for sulking all this time."
"Don't sweat it."
Yoo Min-hoo shrugged with a grin. Curious now, she asked.
"Mom and Dad said you lived next door ten years ago?"
"Yeah. We hung out a lot back then."
She looked amazed as he nodded.
"I don't remember at all. That's wild."
"Honestly, my memories are fuzzy too."
After that, Lee Yoon-ji peppered him with questions—about American high school life, baseball team stuff, and more. In his fragmented memories, she had been outgoing and super friendly. As their rapport thawed, she started matching that image.
Nearing school, she asked.
"Hey, can I call you Min-hoo oppa?"
"Call me whatever's comfy."
She beamed at his nod and smile.
"See you later, oppa!"
She waved and headed toward the classroom building. Yoo Min-hoo waved back lightly before making for the baseball clubhouse. But the mood was rowdy. Players who should have been training were clustered together, murmuring.
He dropped his bag at his spot, changed into his uniform, and called out to Kang Jae-seong passing by.
"Jae-seong, what's up?"
"Oh, hyung! You're here?"
Kang Jae-seong greeted him warmly. Known as the most sociable guy on the team, he was one of Yoo Min-hoo's closer underclassmen.
"Not anything big. Notice just went up."
"Notice?"
"Yeah."
Kang Jae-seong scratched his cheek. Yoo Min-hoo eyed him curiously.
"What notice?"
Kang Jae-seong looked baffled as he answered.
"We're doing survival scrimmages."
"Survival?"
Yoo Min-hoo furrowed his brow at the out-of-left-field news.
"Yep. Starting next week, daily blue-white intrasquad games to toughen up the lineup for the Golden Lion Tournament."
Yoo Min-hoo couldn't help but look a bit incredulous. Park Sung-tae's intent was straightforward: light a fire under the players' competitive spirits.