"Are You Okay?"
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Ouch."
In response to Yoo Min-hoo's question, she nodded and rose from her seat, rubbing her backside. She had brown hair and blue eyes, standing around 160 centimeters tall. Considering she had been walking at quite a brisk pace before the collision, it was no surprise that she bounced off the 189-centimeter, solidly built baseball player and tumbled to the ground.
When he extended his hand, she grabbed it and pulled herself up. Then, lifting her head to look at his face, her somewhat large eyes widened in pleasant surprise.
"Roy Yoo, right?"
Yoo Min-hoo tilted his head, puzzled by how she recognized him after just one glance. It wasn't easy for an ordinary person to spot a minor leaguer's face. Unless it was a player from their favorite team, the only people who could pick out a minor leaguer from an away game were usually reporters or scouts.
A reporter? She looks too young for that.
At first glance, she appeared about the same age as him.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Marsha Relin. Reporter."
With that, she handed him her business card. Yoo Min-hoo narrowed his eyes as he checked the company name printed on it.
Baseball Research? This woman?
Baseball Research
Baseball Research was a baseball magazine with tremendous recognition in the American baseball world. It boasted expertise comparable to major league team front offices in areas like season previews, player analysis, and prospect scouting. Even major league scouts reportedly referenced their scouting reports.
Pocketing the card, Yoo Min-hoo looked at Marsha, who was beaming at him, and said, "Impressive for someone so young. You look like you just graduated high school."
Marsha's brow furrowed slightly at that.
"I graduated college last year?"
She spoke with a hint of offense. After a brief silence, Yoo Min-hoo opened his mouth.
"Impressive for someone so young."
"……."
Correcting himself, he met Marsha's steady gaze and asked, "By the way, like I thought during morning practice, there sure are a lot of reporters. Something going on?"
"Looks like the news hasn't reached Beloit yet."
Marsha shrugged.
"Beloit's been on a hot streak, so it's a shame."
Her tone implied Beloit would have a tough time winning today.
Yoo Min-hoo, puzzled by her words, soon nodded as realization dawned.
"Joey Barton must've joined them."
Marsha's eyes widened at that. Yoo Min-hoo just gave her a faint smile.
Joey Barton was a 29-year-old left-handed first baseman. His standout trait: in the '15 season two years ago, he'd smashed 43 home runs to claim the American League home run title.
"Joey Barton?"
As rest time wound down, Wyndham manager repeated Yoo Min-hoo's words a bit loudly, drawing every eye in the clubhouse.
Yoo Min-hoo nodded while sipping from a paper cup of water.
"That explains all the reporters."
Wyndham manager clicked his tongue softly. Tyrone approached, having watched the exchange.
"What's up?"
"Joey Barton's joined the other side."
"What? You mean the Joey Barton I know?"
Yoo Min-hoo nodded at Tyrone's shocked question. Joey Barton, sidelined last season by a hamstring injury, was expected to return around May or June this year. It was common for major leaguers rusty from rehab to sharpen up in the minors.
"Facing a top major league hitter is great experience for our pitchers, but it sucks for the win streak."
"Aw, skip. We haven't lost yet. And it's his first game back in a while— even the great Joey Barton might be a bit off, right?"
Tyrone's upbeat words had the other players nodding in agreement. Beloit was riding a nine-game win streak, brimming with confidence.
Wyndham manager chuckled at his players' spirit. Not flinching at the major leagues' premier power hitter on the opposing team was a sight to behold. But...
Even if he's not fully back in form, Joey Barton is still Joey Barton.
Yoo Min-hoo, quietly observing from the side, sighed inwardly.
Thwack-!
"……!"
Carlos, tracking the ball he'd thrown, widened his eyes and turned to follow it streaking toward the outfield fence. The drive kept carrying, slamming the fence before rolling to the left fielder. A massive hit—easily a double—but Joey Barton, the man who crushed it, stopped at first and casually shed his gear.
Tyrone whistled at the display. Carlos was in top form today. He'd thrown that same curve in the first inning to fan two.
How do you even attack a guy like that?
Tyrone felt a headache coming on. In the top of the second, Joey Barton led off with a single, then followed with a homer and a double in his next two at-bats. Three-for-three, one homer, three RBIs. Unbelievable for a guy in his first game back after half a year.
"This must be what they mean by class."
As the top of the ninth wrapped, Tyrone muttered bitterly while donning his gear. From home plate, he'd watched Barton dissect Beloit's pitchers like they were batting practice machines.
Score: 6-5, Beloit leading. Barton was unstoppable, but Beloit's offense had kept pace for the one-run edge. The issue: Barton leading off this inning.
Well, at least Chambers—our best guy—is on the mound. We've got a shot.
Tyrone glanced at Yoo Min-hoo in the dugout corner, watching the field. Approaching him, Tyrone said,
"Hey, Roy."
"Yeah?"
"Got any ideas on handling Joey Barton?"
"Why ask me?"
Yoo Min-hoo looked puzzled. Tyrone shrugged.
"You're good at analyzing players, right? You know all the hitters' weaknesses."
Tyrone knew about Yoo Min-hoo's notebook of batter intel and hoped he had something on Barton. And sure enough...
"He has a weakness."
"Oh? Spill it."
Tyrone sounded eager. Yoo Min-hoo gave a wry smile.
"Won't help us."
"Huh?"
Tyrone blinked dumbly. Yoo Min-hoo explained,
"Barton’s weakness only works if the pitcher's on his level."
The gap between Single-A arms and Barton made it useless. Tyrone whistled.
"If it were you facing him, what would you do?"
"Intentional walk."
Tyrone shook his head at Yoo Min-hoo's deadpan reply. Rest over, Tyrone headed to the field. Watching him go, Yoo Min-hoo glanced at his hand and murmured,
It's about ready for game action. Talk to the pitching coach and test it out.
Chambers took the mound, finished his warm-ups, and adjusted his cap.
Joey Barton, huh.
He was very aware of Barton—but not intimidated. Quite the opposite.
If I do well against Barton in this Bowling Green series, maybe I can get called back up to Double-A.
He hadn't shown it, but the demotion had rocked him. He was throwing everything he had each game to earn a recall.
And getting lumped in with Roy isn't fun either.
He didn't underestimate Yoo Min-hoo; he knew the kid was legit. But Chambers was confident he was still better.
As Chambers sorted his thoughts, leadoff hitter Joey Barton stepped in. Finishing a light routine, Barton settled into his stance. Chambers gripped a fastball, took a deep breath, and went into his windup. His dynamic high-leg kick whipped the ball sharply through Barton's outer strike zone.
Thwack-!
"Strike!"
Yes! He's dialed in today!
Tyrone cheered inwardly as the pitch hit his spot perfectly. On days like this, Chambers could overpower with heat alone.
"Ho?"
A murmur reached Tyrone's ear. Barton, stepping back, eyed Chambers rubbing rosin with an amused look.
Chambers reset. Barton did too.
Stay calm—inside fastball, take it off the plate a bit.
Tyrone called for it. Chambers nodded and delivered.
Thwack-!
"Strike two!"
The ump called it—the pitch just off the zone caught the corner. Chambers clenched his fist.
Got him on the ropes.
Deep breath. Next: low-outside fastball rider. Chambers nailed the spot with his velocity. But waiting wasn't Tyrone's mitt—it was Barton's bat.
Crack-!
Barton wristed a pitch that felt miles away from the batter's box. As Chambers and Tyrone gaped, the ball sailed over the fence. Game-tying homer.
He hit that?
Chambers stared in disbelief as Barton circled the bases, then gritted his teeth and glared at the next batter, Kim Yong-soo. Barton slapped a discontented high-five at home and stepped up, looking grumpy.
Damn it.
Chambers, fuming, gripped the ball. Tyrone started for the mound, but Chambers beat him into his motion. Tyrone hesitated, then crouched. Kim Yong-soo readied.
After play-ball, Chambers fired irritably. But Kim Yong-soo wasn't some pushover to exploit that.
Thwack-!
Another crisp bat crack. Back-to-back homers flipped the game. Bowling Green fans roared.