Spring (2)
“Oh, Howard. Long time no... wait, not really.”
“No way, how did you even get here...”
“Huh? You called m...”
“Shh.”
My uncle was a typical pitcher. Meaning, zero awareness.
“Hmm... was it a secret?”
“You got it.”
“Alright. If that's what my nephew wants.”
Still, he always listened to his nephew.
“Oh... Jack Gordon. My God!”
“Hmm? And who might you be?”
“James Gilbert. Yuha's teammate and your biggest fan.”
Not exactly a tearjerker family reunion, but we had quite the audience anyway. James Gilbert was the boldest among them, stepping up first to chat with the ex-MLB superstar.
“Hey, Gilbert. We barely even talk, you know?”
“Oh... Yuha. You can still call me James like yesterday. We're rookies on the same team, right?”
“This guy's weirder than I thought.”
This year, the Titans replaced all their foreign players. Last year's last-place finish was mostly their fault, after all.
James Gilbert was the Titans' new mercenary pitcher. No idea how they lured him away from other KBO teams—or even NPB interest. The GM didn't seem that capable.
If he was, would the team have finished dead last two years straight?
Anyway, Gilbert and I hadn't talked much until now, but boom—best friends in seconds.
Uncle cheat code hits different.
It made sense, though. Even I had tons of fanboys among active players.
That one guy who got happy just from me trash-talking him... gave me chills.
And from the convo, turns out Gilbert was a Mets fan from way back. Bronx kid, home of Yankee Stadium. Hilarious.
Well, Mets did pull in crowds during Dad and Uncle's era.
Most sports fans are bandwagoners, and the New York Mets back then—led by my dad and uncle—were one of the all-time great dynasties. Three-peat World Series champs.
Gilbert must've been one of those. Bronx is still New York, so no big hurdle to jumping on the Mets train.
“Gordon. If it's not too much trouble, could you teach me your sweeper?”
“You bet. That's why I'm here. Hand over a ball.”
“Whoa... thank you!”
Anyway.
Guy's popular...
Gilbert gripping the sweeper just like Uncle showed, soaking up advice. The other pitchers watched like starving beasts.
Did I really need to hide that I called Uncle here?
Jack Gordon, the short-term temp with the unheard-of title of “spring camp interim pitching coach,” was swamped.
Starting with James Gilbert, who'd begged first for sweeper lessons.
“Um... Gordon. Please. Teach me. Please.”
Even native ace Baek Jeongsu and a horde of pitchers lined up for his wisdom.
Jack didn't brush them off, helping out kindly. And as he got busier, some folks naturally had more free time.
“...Tch. What the hell does that guy even know.”
The Titans' pitching coach Kim Pilsun and the rest of the old coaching staff.
“He... is pretty damn good, though. Hall of Famer and all.”
Veteran reliever Park Oseon— who'd known him from playing days—spoke up, and Kim Pilsun scowled.
“So what if...”
He started to snap.
“...He is impressive!”
But trailed off.
Couldn't deny the guy was legit.
“Still, KBO needs its own skills. That's what I'm saying.”
Sounded convincing enough, sorta.
Bro, you're coming off desperate.
Park Oseon thought that inwardly.
“And hey? Player career doesn't mean shit for coaching! Does he coach better than me?”
“Well... he wrote books on pitching theory after retiring, I think?”
“Huh?”
“Tons of pitchers leveled up thanks to his advice back in the day, apparently.”
“...”
“It's just a short gig anyway. Good enough, right?”
Truth was, Park Oseon had read Gordon's book. As a pitcher who compensated brains for brawn, he loved theory. Meaning...
“Hey, Park Oseon. Whose side are you on?”
“Titans' side, obviously.”
Park Oseon too.
“Coach, I've got questions for Gordon. Heading out.”
“Hey! Park Oseon!”
“Take care.”
He had plenty to ask Jack Gordon.
“Traitor...”
Kim Pilsun felt alone.
“This team's better than I thought, Howard.”
“Yeah? Last-place squad.”
“Everyone's got fire.”
“Well, duh. MLB legend teaching 'em personally? Of course they're hyped.”
“Pfft. Kids without passion wouldn't learn from anyone.”
“Huh.”
The Titans were kinda weird, come to think. Last-place two years running, yet the players burned with ambition overall.
Compared to my first team pre-regression...
Back then, my debut squad ate Ls for breakfast. Small-market sellers' image to boot.
Few cared about wins beyond a handful.
I ended up obsessing over my own stats over team results. Got traded to a contender—win-win for everyone.
“Anyway, they're a powerhouse in Korea, supposedly.”
“Huh? Doesn't match what I heard.”
“Yeah?”
“Meteors only won twice ever?”
“...History counts. Original franchise and all.”
“Oh, long history doesn't make you elite.”
“Like the Phillies?”
“Spot on.”
“Heard this team's nicknamed Korea's Phillies.”
“Damn... suddenly hate this place.”
Uncle pretended to strip off his temp uniform.
“...Yuha. Why's Coach Gordon acting like that?”
Baek Jeongsu-senior, who'd been blankly watching our chat, freaked and asked.
“Ah, no biggie, hyung. Just hates the Phillies.”
“...Huh?”
Senior looked puzzled but didn't pry. Figured it wasn't important. And it wasn't.
“Howard, tell that kid his passion stood out. Ball's slow, though.”
“Hyung, Uncle said you're impressive.”
“...Really? Feels good getting props from Gordon.”
We bantered through me as interpreter—mostly pitch grips—when Baek Jeongsu tilted his head.
“Why's Coach Gordon call you Howard, Yuha? Like an English name?”
Nope. Just...
“Uncle habit.”
“Huh?”
“No separate English name. Used 'Yuha' in the States too.”
“Then why?”
“Claimed Korean names are hard to say. Made it up himself.”
For real.
“Dad's 'Meteor' nickname? Uncle coined that too.”
“...No kidding.”
And not just that.
“There's Hanseong, right?”
“Your catcher buddy? Why him?”
“Calls him Hans. Trained at Uncle's place this winter.”
“Hahaha. Fun guy.”
FYI, Baek Jeongsu's James. Zero consistency in nicknames.
“So, what now?”
“Huh?”
“Kim Coach is fuming.”
“Oh.”
Kim Pilsun started with casual form tweaks as a joke. Got pushier over time. Way more since Uncle arrived.
“Gotta settle it somehow. He's our pitching coach, after all.”
“True.”
“Not a bad guy. Just old-school for his age.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
Rookies ignoring his advice? Not raging puts him top 10% in industry personality. That's why I don't push back hard.
His coaching worked for some pitchers his way. Can't fault that.
Anyway.
“It'll sort soon.”
“Yeah? How?”
I pointed at Uncle.
“What?”
Block authority with greater authority. Classic.
“I'd appreciate it if you left Yuha's pitching alone.”
Spring camp meeting room, managers and coaches gathered. Interim pitching coach Jack Gordon dropped the hot topic.
“That's meddling! Interim coach my ass!”
“Messing with my creation unasked isn't meddling?”
“What?!”
Well, technically Howard's pitching isn't my creation.
True, when Jin Yuha started baseball, Gordon taught him a ton. Pitching from Uncle Jack, hitting from Dad Jin Yusung. Prodigy golden boy.
But...
Eventually, he took the reins himself.
Like he knew the answers, Yuha started perfecting his own game. Dad and Gordon just assisted after that.
Still...
Only way to play it now.
That's why Yuha called him, after all.
“Anyway, I won't watch my work get ruined. Yuha's already perfect.”
“...You bastard!”
Sorry to the pitching coach, but Gordon's role here was villain.
“He's a team rookie. We have a duty to teach him.”
“Even if it ruins him?”
“Ugh...”
Poor manager trying to smooth things over.
Fixing form won't ruin Yuha, probably.
Gordon didn't actually think form tweaks would wreck him. Just backing Yuha's wish to keep it as-is. Right as family, right as coach.
“No room for compromise?”
“...There is one way.”
They were decent folks, so Gordon had a gentle fix.
“Set up a practice game.”
“Practice game?”
“Yeah. Against the Dodgers.”
“...Where?”
“LA Dodgers.”
Gasp echoed in the room.
“Dodgers sending 40-man roster guys. Already cleared.”
“40-man... bench guys?”
“Yep. Put Yuha in as starter.”
And.
“60-pitch limit. If he performs to your standards, hands off. Deal?”
“...That work?”
“Yeah. I trust my nephew.”
“Let's do it!”
Kim Pilsun jumped in before Manager Jeong Hyeonho could speak.
Board's set, Howard.
Not quite Yuha's plan, but conclusion reached. Ball in his court now.