The Disciplinary Committee
After my ejection, Manager Park ordered me straight home. It wasn't a disciplinary send-off — he just wanted me out of there before anything else could go wrong.
On the way back to the hotel, I watched the rest of the game on my phone. Thankfully, Jo Sangjun came in behind me and shut down the eighth without trouble. Our hitters scratched across two more runs in the top of the ninth, and we held them to a single run in the bottom half. Game over.
When the guys got back to the hotel, I went to them first and apologized. Whatever else you could say about it, the whole mess had started because of me. Owning that felt like the least I could do.
But the players just waved it off and tried to cheer me up instead. Ko Mandeok wasn't seriously hurt, and we'd won the game — that was enough, they said.
Seo Gyeongmin especially…
"Next time there's a bench-clearer, you're the tip of the spear. Got it?"
He laughed it off like it was nothing, big and booming, and somehow that only made me feel worse.
After that, Manager Park called me up to his room.
"Head straight to Seoul. Go visit Mandeok while you're at it."
He also told me the disciplinary committee would almost certainly convene, and a fine was coming. A suspension was likely too, but we'd wait and see on that.
The next day, Seo Homin rode up to Seoul with me. The club offered to send a staffer, but that felt awkward — and it wasn't exactly a celebratory trip. I didn't want to put anyone out, so I called Homin instead.
"Man, I had no idea my buddy could throw hands like that."
He started in on me the second we got in the car.
"…"
"Snatching the punch with the glove and then — bam. That was filthy."
"…"
"They put a boxing prospect on a baseball diamond. No wonder your game never improved."
"…"
"But the public reaction's not as bad as you'd think."
Huh?
"…It isn't?"
"So you were worried about it."
"Not really. I just figured it had to be ugly."
"Dragons fans want you dead, obviously. Your own fans are saying you did the right thing."
"And?"
"Other teams' fans? They got a free show. They're happy."
"That's it? Tch."
"Honestly, anyone with eyes could see that bastard deliberately cracked the back of his head first. Who doesn't know that? You threw the retaliatory pitch after, and then you lit him up in the brawl — there's no real reason for people to pile on you that hard."
At first I thought, Yeah, maybe. But the more I sat with it, the weirder it felt.
"Hold on. The day before, when that old man did his interview, they were all over me."
"That's different. The people trash-talking you yesterday are the same ones who called you a junkie. Some nobody suddenly shows up throwing gas that scares the hell out of everyone, and then word gets out he's a bad guy? Of course they all jumped on it."
"But?"
"But what? Yesterday, anyone watching could see that psycho started it."
That… wasn't quite it, though.
Fine. The PED nonsense and the old man's interview — whatever. But why was everyone only talking about Choe Hojung cracking Mandeok with the bat and the beanball that followed?
What about everything I'd been happily cooking up before that?
Come to think of it, even the portal articles never mentioned what happened leading up to Choe Hojung. The eephus games. The splitter that found the top of a foot. All of it was missing. They only screamed about the bat, the retaliatory pitch, and me beating the hell out of Kim Gyuyeol.
"But I plunked a guy before that too, didn't I?"
"Huh? Oh — Jongdu? Yeah, I know. I laughed my ass off watching that. That idiot taking a strikeout after getting drilled? Comedy gold."
"And before that I threw an Arirang ball."
"What kind of player calls it an Arirang ball? It's not like the pitch doesn't have a real name."
"Whatever."
"So what? You throw slow curves all the time."
Strange. Mandeok and I had both assumed those two at-bats were exactly why the Dragons were boiling over. I'd figured Choe Hojung going after Mandeok was payback for everything that came before — which was why I'd felt even guiltier toward him.
I laid all of that out for Homin.
"I know. I roughly figured it was something like that. You've been on the receiving end before, and there was that guy's interview."
"Y-yeah?"
"But here's the thing. I'm only thinking that because I know you. Would complete strangers put it together the same way?"
"The interview…"
"No, I don't think you're getting it. An eephus? Sure, that can happen. Pitchers break that out every now and then. You even see it in the majors."
"True…"
"And drilling Jongdu in the foot? Be honest — can you just decide to put a splitter exactly there and make it happen?"
"Uh?"
"Besides, that dumbass couldn't get out of the way because he was already swinging. The broadcast said so — he started his swing way too early and had zero chance to react. Otherwise he could've easily dodged it."
"They… said that?"
I hadn't bothered rewatching yesterday's game. I'd skimmed portal headlines without reading the articles, and I hadn't touched any of the communities I usually hung around. So I had no idea what the commentators had actually said.
"You're a player, so you think like a player. Regular fans like me just listen to the booth and go, 'Oh, okay.' Whether you did it on purpose or it just happened that way? They don't know and they don't care."
"I see."
I didn't know who was in the booth yesterday, but from the sound of it they'd spent more time talking about Hwang Jongdu swinging into the pitch than about the guy who threw it. I sent a quiet thank-you their way.
After that, the conversation got a little easier.
"Hey! Your team just dropped a response article!"
"I know. I'm looking at it right now."
We'd failed to resist the siren call of a rest stop and decided to pull over for a bit. Homin blocked me from getting out with him — no point inviting the headache if someone recognized me — and while he went in alone, I absently opened my phone to check the news.
The second I hit the sports section, there it was: a piece about our team, sitting right at the top.
I tapped the lead article. My retaliatory pitch had been spun as a sacrifice made for a teammate who'd been attacked first. The piece also quietly insisted that the Dragons had started the whole thing. It mentioned that a disciplinary hearing for me, Choe Hojung, and Kim Gyuyeol was scheduled for the following day. And at the end — that I was reflecting on my actions.
A beautifully packaged article.
"This reporter can write."
"Isn't that a little one-sided?"
"Probably only talked to our side. Their side already flooded the feeds yesterday."
"Bullshit. Yesterday's articles were nothing but 'who started it' noise."
"Then I guess the Dragons got on this guy's bad side somehow."
"'Reflecting on his actions'… Give me a break."
"Right. Reflecting so hard. While eating roasted potatoes at a rest stop. Heh heh heh."
We snickered our way back onto the highway and kept driving toward Seoul.
Homin decided to stay with me for a while. Said he was going to stick around anyway since I was about to get suspended. I didn't see the downside, so I told him fine. It wasn't even my place, and I had somewhere to go — might even make decent copy if a reporter wrote it up.
I brought Homin with me to the hospital. They'd checked Mandeok at a local place the night before and transferred him to Seoul right away, so the hospital was our first stop before heading home.
I'd been told it was nothing serious, but I still couldn't help worrying…
"Hey~ You made it."
"…Are you all right?"
"Of course. I feel fine."
He really did look comfortable — propped on one arm, half-reclined, fiddling with his phone.
"They said you had mild concussion symptoms."
"Oh, that? Doctors call everything a concussion the second your head takes a hit. I'm fine. No dizziness or anything."
"Ah… That's a relief."
"Yeah. Who's that behind you?"
I'd almost forgotten Homin standing there like a spare piece of furniture.
"A friend. He drove me up."
"Hello. Seo Homin."
"Hey. Ko Mandeok."
After the quick introductions—
"Your friend a student?"
"No."
"I'm an amateur baseball analyst."
Homin started spouting nonsense.
"Excuse me?"
"…Since when?"
"Me? Ages."
What the hell was this garbage? I'd known this guy forever, and now he was suddenly a baseball analyst? Sure, I knew he watched every game under the sun and scribbled his own little breakdowns for fun. But enjoying that alone and introducing yourself as a baseball analyst were two completely different things.
"I said amateur. Amateur."
Even he seemed to feel the guilt, hammering the word. At least a scrap of conscience was still in there somewhere.
"More importantly — why'd you do it?"
Mandeok cut the worthless conversation short and changed the subject.
"Do what?"
"Why hit him? Just get the out and end the at-bat."
"And just let that slide? It was obvious he did it on purpose."
"Still… sigh… You're going to get suspended. What then?"
"I rest a few days. How many games could it even be? They started it. They threw the first punches too."
"Whew… Don't worry about the fine."
"What? You're covering it, hyung? No need."
"What are you talking about? The team's paying. So stop fretting."
"Ah…"
I hadn't thought of that.
"By the way — damn. How did you even think to catch a punch with your glove?"
"Right? I wasn't the only one. I was watching it on TV and couldn't believe it. This guy's been saying that forever, you know. 'Why does everyone throw the glove down before a fight?'"
"He has?"
"Yeah. And then yesterday he actually blocked with it and swung back — heh heh heh."
Homin and Mandeok clicked better than I expected. They went at it with full energy right in front of me, and within minutes they were calling each other hyung and dongsaeng, chattering away like I wasn't even there.
Homin and I stayed in Mandeok's room and watched our team's game with him.
From the first inning, we hammered the Dragons without mercy. Six runs in the first alone, and by the fourth we'd hit double digits. The Dragons, meanwhile, were missing their leadoff and three-hole hitters, and an already thin lineup had its weight drop straight through the floor. Midgame, even their two-hole — Hwang Jongdu — started limping on that foot and got pulled. The order was gutted. They could barely put a runner on base, let alone score.
Final score: 14–2.
We crushed the Dragons like it was nothing.
In a good mood, we left the hospital and headed home. That was when I got a phone call.
"Five-game suspension."
The disciplinary committee had reached its decision.