The Real Test
As I once mentioned, I'm not the type to hesitate when it comes to teaching someone. One of my old teammates even rated me as the guy who "talks like shit but secretly teaches pretty damn well."
'Ungrateful bastard...'
I saw potential in him, so I dragged him around and taught him everything I knew, and after he won ROY, he goes and gives an interview like that. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is.
"Do I really need to spell it out for you?"
I'm not usually the type to talk like this.
"...That was after the game was over."
Despite my prickly attitude, Park Gwangho didn't bat an eye and launched into a story I wasn't all that curious about. First off.
"But how the hell did you get my home address?"
"I asked your teammate Baek Jihun. Told him I wanted to apologize to you, and he gave it up."
"That hyung doesn't even know my address..."
"Baek Jihun said he asked one of your classmates. Jeong Hanseong, was it?"
Second issue: my home address had leaked without me knowing.
'Jeong Hanseong, you little shit.'
Sure, a rookie like Jeong Hanseong couldn't say no to a senior like a god, but since I was a rookie too, my grudge went straight to him.
"So, aren't you gonna apologize?"
"Is that really necessary?"
"You came here to apologize, didn't you?"
"...I was out of my mind from the shock of losing to you. That's when I saw your interview."
Third: he shows up on my rest day claiming to apologize, but instead he's yapping away and ruining my sweet, sweet downtime.
From a pitcher's perspective, three strikes and you're out.
"I think I'm good to go now? Thanks for the coffee, though."
I mentally called Park Gwangho out on strikes and stood up. That's when.
"Help me out!"
Suddenly, Park Gwangho raised his voice. I could feel the eyes in the cafe turning our way.
"I can't get the image of you pitching out of my head. How do you throw so damn well? What are you thinking when you throw? How do you train? It's driving me insane..."
His words were practically a plea.
"Haa..."
I let out a sigh and had no choice but to sit back down.
'This guy's nuts.'
The stares from around us were embarrassing, and Park Gwangho looked so desperate it was kinda pitiful.
'Coming to the pitcher who beat you—and a high school grad rookie, no less—the very next day to beg for advice? Not something a sane person does.'
I'm too nice for my own good.
"So, what exactly are you so curious about?"
"How the hell do you throw the ball so well?"
"Just win MVP five times in the majors and regress. Easy."
"...Are you messing with me?"
I was dead serious.
Park Gwangho spent a long time chatting with me before heading back to Ulsan. At the end, he insisted on getting my number, saying he'd ask if he had more questions.
'Ah... my rest day.'
No matter how much I love baseball—enough to come back after regressing—I want to rest on rest days. When you're playing almost every day, recharging is key.
"Damn punk."
So Tuesday kicked off with me kicking the ass of the culprit who'd saddled me with a four-hour baseball symposium with an overzealous stalker: Jeong Hanseong.
"Aaaack!! Why'd you hit me?"
I snorted at Jeong Hanseong, who was acting all indignant.
"Do you have any idea how tired you made me?"
"...Seemed like you hit it off with Park Gwangho hyung."
"Don't play dumb. You gave him my address."
"Why not! You had fun talking, didn't you?!"
"Who said that?"
The guy's such a motormouth; he wore me out. And his speech patterns were no joke.
'This is why pitchers are...'
It was enough to awaken my hidden identity as a hitter. Like I'd enjoy chatting with a guy like that.
"You're done for. Check this out!"
Jeong Hanseong pulled out his smartphone and showed me a familiar community screen.
The post with that title featured a photo of me and Park Gwangho talking in the familiar cafe. No idea how they snapped it, but it made it look like I was smiling.
"What the...?"
I was speechless.
"Looked like you had a blast? Word is you even gave him some tips?"
"...We didn't talk about anything special."
"That's not what this guy says."
A Titans fan had caught us at the perfect moment while grabbing coffee. Park Gwangho on his knees begging for wisdom, and me graciously bestowing it. That was the gist of the post.
"This isn't Heroic Legend or whatever. Way off from the truth."
"Yeah, no way that hyung actually got on his knees."
"Oh, he did. For real."
"What? ...Why the hell?"
Good question. When he yelled for help, his knees were half-bent—I was shocked. But still.
"I didn't give him any tips."
"For real? Not even one of your breaking balls?"
"Even if I taught you that, could you throw it like me?"
Impossible. Only I can throw like me. With velocity over 160km/h, pinpoint control, great feel for the ball, and my level of physicality—no one else could copy it straight up.
'Grip-wise, sure, I could teach it...'
But it wouldn't make much difference from other pitchers.
"...So you taught him nothing? After four hours?"
"We talked about this and that."
More or less.
"Like mindset when throwing or training routines?"
"You think it's right for a rookie debuting this year to teach that to Park Gwangho?"
"Eh..."
He asked first.
"You didn't get any advice?"
"I did."
We talked for four hours. Of course I wasn't the only one helping.
Park Gwangho gave me some advice too. Over half was meaningless to me with my experience, but.
"There were some useful bits."
"Like what?"
"Hmm..."
I recalled what Park Gwangho had told me.
– "You're probably pitching Saturday, right? Titans face the Rangers. Watch out then."
He warned me about my next start.
– "The Rangers are vicious. It'll be a real test for you."
So.
– "Don't let them get to you. You're the guy who beat me."
Strip away the cringey delivery, and it was solid advice.
The Busan Titans' weekday series opponent was Daegu Warriors—the same team I'd shut out in my debut. After getting swept at our home, they welcomed us to theirs with blades sharpened for revenge. And.
Thwack!!
They got their revenge.
In the opener, our starter Baek Jeongsu hyung couldn't handle Warriors Park's tiny confines and turned into a home run factory.
Thwack!!
Gwak Jaewoong hyung, who'd earned the win last time despite getting shelled by Warriors, paid the karma with a loss.
At least we avoided a sweep like last time against Warriors.
Whiff!!
"Strike three!"
James Gilbert, who closed out the series finale, lived up to his status as our lone foreign ace—as in, Ivan Rodriguez isn't one—with six scoreless innings. We bullpenned like crazy after he left and scraped out the win.
And what was I doing during all that?
"Wooo... Go get 'em, everyone."
Cheering my heart out. Non-pitching starters are basically dugout cheerleaders.
"Yuha, if it's a hassle, skip it. Might just sap your energy."
Truth is, I sucked at it. Not my thing.
"Could've just chilled in Busan. Your start's at home anyway."
"Can't do that. I'm a Titan too."
"Oh yeah? Didn't know you were such a loyal one, Yuha."
Not really. Just more used to this side. I wasn't just a pitcher—I was a two-way guy.
"Your cheering's pretty bad for someone like that."
"'Cause cheerleading isn't my fixed role like it is for you."
I brushed off Jeong Hanseong's jab.
"I got a hit today too!"
Instant comeback. Fun to tease, as always.
"Oh... did ya? Congrats."
Jeong Hanseong finally got his debut at-bat in the series finale against Warriors. With the game so tight, Manager Jeong Hyeonho tried every trick, including pinch-running speedy Jeong for power-hitting Park Cheongwon hyung after a double.
Jeong Hanseong took over behind the plate that defensive inning and ended up batting.
Thwack!!
And he got his first hit in his debut plate appearance. Weak contact—a grounder that should've been an out if third didn't hesitate—but a hit's a hit.
Not record-book material, but for a debut PA hit, it was a solid pro debut for Jeong Hanseong.
"Heh heh. Ball from my first pro hit. Gonna display it back at the dorm."
And he's thrilled, so good for him.
The weekend series kicked off at Shin Sajik between the Titans (7-4, third in the East) and Rangers (one game back in second).
Game one starter for Titans: foreign pitcher Ivan Rodriguez, who still hadn't gone five innings once.
Tap tap.
"Whoa... so this is what he meant by vicious? Gives me chills."
The game hadn't even started, but I already got Park Gwangho's warning.