Hey, Roy.
"Hey, Roy."
After the game ended, as Roy Yoo packed his gear and headed out of the clubhouse, Tyrone slung an arm around his shoulders.
"How about grabbing a drink tonight? My treat."
Roy gave him a puzzled look at Tyrone's words, but the surrounding teammates reacted right away.
"Oh? Celebrating your first scoreless start of the season? I'm in."
"Whoa, our big-spending starting catcher is treating?"
"What are you guys glomming onto? Nah, it's not that. I don't have the cash to cover you all, so beat it."
The teammates grumbled and scattered as Tyrone shooed them away.
"What's with the sudden drink invite?" Roy asked, still looking baffled.
Tyrone shrugged. "Just... earlier, when I asked for advice, you said you'd buy me a drink. Plus, you've given me a ton of helpful tips since last year."
Roy let out a light breath. "Alright, then. Guess I'll take you up on it."
"There's a regular spot near the stadium. Let's head there."
Tyrone gave his back a friendly pat and led the way to the bar.
As Tyrone had said, his go-to bar was just a ten-minute walk away. They pushed open the door to a second-floor spot in an alley lined with bars, and a woman who seemed to be the manager was wiping down tables—she'd just opened up.
Spotting Tyrone come in, she lit up. "Welcome, Tyrone."
"Hey, Rachel."
After their warm greeting, Tyrone led Roy to the long counter table right by the entrance and sat down. Across from them, a bartender woman drying glasses smiled faintly at Tyrone.
"Welcome. Hit a homer today, right? Here to celebrate?"
"Kinda, but mostly buying a drink for this guy I owe a favor."
"Hmm, looks like a first-timer... Wait, isn't that Roy the player?"
The bartender confirmed Roy's face and beamed.
"No way, Roy Yoo?"
"For real?"
The manager and other staff crowded over in surprise.
"What brings you here? It really is Roy!"
"You guys won today, right? Congrats!"
Roy gave them a light nod and greeting as they clapped and cheered. While Tyrone placed the order and drinks and snacks were prepped, Roy spoke up.
"Kinda buzzing atmosphere here."
"Most of the staff are baseball fans. You're the youngest on the team, plus good-looking with a great build—they love you here."
"Hm."
Roy leaned back in his chair, scanning the dimly lit interior with its soft lighting and mellow music creating a relaxed vibe.
Just a nice, atmospheric bar, as advertised.
As he sipped water and murmured to himself, the bartender brought whiskey and snacks.
"The other players come here all the time, but we never see you, Roy. Got another regular spot?"
Tyrone shrugged at her smiling question. "Nah, Roy's a total straight-arrow. Post-game or off-days, it's all training or rest. Aside from team outings with food and drinks, I've hardly seen him drink. This is probably his first time in a place like this."
"Really?"
The bartender's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Roy, her face saying such a wholesome guy exists?
"Not my absolute first."
"Oh? Unexpected."
In my life before the regression, I'd been to a few. But since the clock spun backward, yeah, definitely first.
"Anyway, you're crazy dedicated to baseball too."
"Well, no room for slacking right now."
Roy lifted his whiskey glass as he spoke, and Tyrone furrowed his brow.
"A guy not even 20 yet, climbing to Triple-A, and no slack? Isn't that too much?"
Roy chuckled softly at the mild scolding. "Hey, being able to stay focused and grind is a good thing, right?"
"The problem is he doesn't get distracted at all. What'd you do with your signing bonus?"
"Sent my parents on a world trip, bought Ella a car. Rest's in the bank."
"Rich kid."
Tyrone whistled as the bartender's eyes sparkled. "Ella's your girlfriend?"
"My sister."
The light chatter continued. After a while, the door opened and someone walked in.
"What is this, a team meeting spot?"
Roy muttered, chin in hand, and Tyrone shrugged. "Happens sometimes."
It was Cole Klaus. After greeting the staff, he approached them.
"Roy here is unexpected."
"Just having a drink together."
Cole placed his order while eyeing Tyrone's shrug, then sighed as he waited for his cocktail.
"You pitched perfect today, but you look down?"
Tyrone asked, puzzled. Cole had given up a hit to the leadoff hitter earlier but cleanly retired the next three to end the inning.
"Perfect, huh..."
Cole sipped his arriving cocktail and murmured low, then turned to Roy.
"Hey, Roy. Got a question?"
"Hm?"
"What do you think I need to do to perform even better than now?"
Roy looked incredulous. "Why ask me?"
"You gave Tyrone some advice earlier. Figured you might have something for me too."
Roy set down his glass at Cole's casual tone. "You've got great coaches—what, ignoring them? And Klaus, you're the most likely for a majors call-up among our pitchers. I'm just settling into Triple-A."
Cole Klaus. Left-hander. Top fastball velocity of 91 mph, averaging 90. His precise control let him hit any spot the catcher called. He threw a wide arsenal: circle changeup, two-seam fastball, curve, slider. But his breaking ball command wasn't perfect yet. His fastball had pinpoint control but minimal movement—straight and clean—so it wasn't ideal for racking up counts or as a finisher due to low impact. Instead, he balanced strikeout ability with contact management using varied breaking balls as putaways. A crafty pitcher with great balance. And as Roy said, the top candidate for majors call-up.
His biggest strength was the stability from that control. It was almost comical for a near-complete pitcher like Cole to seek advice from still-maturing Roy.
But sensing Cole's sincerity mixed with jest, Roy scratched his head.
"Klaus, your grip strength is pretty solid, right?"
"Hm? Not like yours, but yeah."
"How about learning a cutter?"
"Cutter?"
"Yeah. Your issue is the fastball lacks movement, and no standout finisher."
"Won't it overlap with your slider and two-seamer?"
"Sure, but low injury risk, and with your grip, it'd work great."
It was unexpected advice for Cole, already versed in many pitches.
"Variety's good for more weapons, but ups injury risk. For you, nailing a signature finisher fits better for better results. Cutter feels perfect for you now."
"..."
Cole sipped his drink, then nodded seriously. "Got it. Thanks for the tip."
He sank into thought.
Off-days without games were precious rest for the coaching staff too. They didn't play but traveled with the team, planned strategies, and coached—draining work. Most were past their physical prime, so keeping up with the schedule was tight.
Manager Wedden eyed the coaches gathered in his office.
"Keep the meeting short—everyone go home and rest. Anything notable?"
Post-training Friday. No game tomorrow. Monday's away game meant busing out the day after. Wedden wanted to head home and crash.
"Tyrone's started seriously tweaking his swing."
"Hm. Right, the swing form talk. Figuring that out solo—Tyrone's got it."
Wedden stroked his chin. Recognizing his limits and trying change showed clear self-awareness for climbing higher.
The hitting coach scratched his cheek at Wedden's murmur. "Seems influenced by Roy."
"Roy?"
Wedden blinked at the surprise name.
"Yeah. Apparently consulted him a lot since last year."
"Ho."
Wedden let out an impressed sound. "Cole's talking about learning a cutter from Roy too."
The pitching coach murmured puzzledly this time.
Wedden grinned at both. "A 20-year-old influencing much older vets? That's something."
"Roy does value 'data' more than most, but didn't expect this level of impact."
Wedden nodded at the pitching coach, then scanned the others. "Anything else?"
Silence and headshakes. Wedden clapped lightly. "Alright, head out and rest up."
The coaches filed out. Alone, Wedden leaned back.
I knew he was diligent and mature beyond his years... but this is impressive.
He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.
The team's slowly revolving around Roy.
Roy was indeed becoming the team's core. And players positively influencing those around them from that spot? That made them a leader.
"Interesting."
Wedden chuckled softly to himself.