Good Kid (4)
“Get lost, you shameless bastard! Don’t you feel sorry for our fans?!”
Someone’s anguished cry echoed from the stands.
“That’s Oh Seungjin-sunbae.”
“Ah, the leadoff hitter?”
“No, that’s not…”
“What’d I say?”
Jeong Hanseong looked like he was about to pick another pointless fight. Anyway.
“‘Don’t you feel sorry for the fans…’”
Well…
“They are pretty pitiful.”
“Gasp! For real?”
It was the honest truth, without a shred of exaggeration.
“Why are you so surprised?”
“Didn’t see it coming.”
“Do I look like some demon to you?”
“Lately, your personality’s been getting kinda rotten.”
“Has it?”
Hard to deny, honestly.
Ever since my full pro debut, my old personality’s been creeping back out, bit by bit.
I’d been playing the ‘good, humble rookie’ card since joining the team, but even that’s starting to wear thin.
“…Yuha, you were a good, humble rookie?”
“Huh? Wasn’t I?”
Kang Gihoo-sunbae tilted his head. Baek Jihun-sunbae did too.
“Sure, you’re not a bad guy, but good and humble? Nah…”
It was a baffling comment.
“I didn’t punch anyone in the locker room, didn’t curse out the sunbaes to their faces, didn’t drag anyone to some shady party at a ‘nice place’ either.”
That qualified as plenty good and humble for a rookie, right?
““…””
No idea why, but everyone went silent.
“Frank. Are there really kids like that in the majors?”
Outfield leader Jeong Suyeong-sunbae turned to his direct junior, Frank Rodriguez.
“Huh? Yeah, they exist. Not a ton, though.”
Frank, hearing the question through the interpreter, shrugged casually.
“Wow…”
While the Titans guys glimpsed the abyss of MLB and reeled in shock, I was still mulling over Oh Seungjin’s words.
It’s pitiful, sure.
I’m human too. How could I not pity the Pistols fans looking like they’d burst into tears at a touch? But.
Doesn’t mean I can half-ass the game.
Sports is all about competition at its core.
Player vs. player. Team vs. team. Fan vs. fan.
My own fans come first for me.
And if the Pistols players truly felt sorry for their fans…
They should’ve played better themselves.
Why vent at me, the enemy?
“What, thought you were facing a saint or something?”
…
Turns out the real demon was Jeong Hanseong.
CRACK!!
“He did it again.”
Not long after his first pro homer, and here he was smashing his second. A devastating blow to the fired-up Pistols. Doesn’t he pity their fans either?
“Fwaaah… it’s gone.”
Jeong Hanseong returned to the dugout, sounding deflated like he hadn’t expected it to clear the wall himself.
“This is what they call a szzz, right?”
“What’d you say, you punk?”
I was sniping on behalf of the Pistols fans’ resentment, but.
Damn impressive, though.
I knew full well this homer wasn’t just stat-padding. The guy on the mound now was the Pistols’ closer.
Children’s Day game, plus a day off after Sunday—guess that’s why.
Not the most rational call, but that emotional flair is part of sports’ charm, right?
THWACK!!
“Strikeout!”
Inning over.
“Hurry up and gear up.”
I rushed Jeong Hanseong, who was fumbling into his protective gear.
“Time to head out.”
Consecutive scoreless innings record.