Power-Hiding Geek
"Our manager's more fun than I thought."
My mutter drew a response.
"Huh? You talking about Coach Jeong Hyeonho?"
Dad asked, wearing a stretched-out white tee that barely fit his neck.
"You know him?"
"Son, you might not know this, but I was kinda called a baseball hero in Korea back in the day."
No kidding, who doesn't know that?
"I was just wondering if you two were close."
"Ahem, really? I thought..."
Dad's attitude toward me had gotten weird lately.
— "He's acting that way 'cause you're so amazing, Yuha. Your dad's got a narrow mind, you know? But don't go too hard on him."
Mom had said that. As if I'd ever disrespect him.
Objectively, yeah, I was the better player than Dad, but I respected him all the same.
Even if he was scratching his belly like some neighborhood bum right now.
"You ever going home?"
"This is my home."
"It's Grandpa's house."
"I bought it, so it's mine."
Dad, one of the guys who kicked off the MLB free agency billion-dollar era, was also a self-made icon.
For a guy who just played ball, he's got a weirdly sharp investment sense...
Did Dad regress too, by any chance?
"Hmm..."
"What?"
"Dad, by any chance..."
I was about to blurt out my sudden curiosity when—
"Ahem! Oh yeah, Mia said she's coming to Korea sometime. You knew about that, Yuha?"
Dad jumped in out of nowhere, and it was a pretty urgent topic.
"...No? Why would she? Isn't she busy?"
I kept my cool asking Dad, but he smirked on one side.
"What, you curious?"
"Nah, she's just super busy, that's all."
"Sure, let's go with that."
Felt like I was losing for some reason.
"Anyway, when's she coming?"
"Dunno. But she was pretty pissed. You know why?"
"Ah."
Yeah, I did.
"Yeah, whatever."
"Huh. Better apologize quick then. You're the one who loses out."
I shot Dad a sullen glare.
"This is your fault, Dad."
"What?"
In my indignation, I forgot what I'd meant to ask originally.
It happened right before the exhibition games started, during a short break.
The 2040 KBO season opener was drawing near. Teams were finalizing rosters, and fans were debating who would make the opening lineup.
Of course, the player drawing the most attention was Jin Yuha.
Word was, Jin Yuha had started against last season's MLB champs in practice and gone 5 scoreless innings.
But Korean fans had only read about it in articles—no official broadcast.
There was some shaky fan footage online, though. Shot by a Dodgers diehard at the stadium—blurry, full of screams (heavy on the F-bombs), and shaky cam. Not exactly clear proof.
Besides that spring game, his only other known outing was...
Just one appearance in Japan, a measly 2 innings. Everyone was dying to know his real level.
He touched 160 km/h again and dominated. Fans figured he'd make the roster easy, but starting rotation? Debatable.
Then this dropped.
Direct quote from the manager.
That vague "bullpen only" wording threw everyone into chaos.
The young Titans skipper seemed to be enjoying the backlash, just grinning and trolling.
In the midst of this confusion, Jin Yuha was...
"Heh! Ah, this is fun for real."
"This is really okay?"
"Duh. You're a power-hiding geek from now on, got it? Wait, Jin, so power-hiding true?"
Tilting my head at the manager's lame joke.
Manager said the "power-hiding geek" cliché is a classic.
Like the neighborhood uncle who's secretly a legendary hitman. Or the innkeeper who's a retired hero.
Hmm.
Thinking about it, yeah, I kinda fit. KBO rookie mask, but former world's best player.
So...
"Classic it is."
"Yes! Knew you got it!"
Jeong Hyeonho beamed and launched into a speech.
"The weakling turns out to be a monster! That twist! The reactions! Kyaa... that's the stuff!"
"Manager, you're way more upbeat than I thought."
"Had to keep you rookies in line during camp. No need now. Everyone's prepped."
Fine, whatever his real personality.
"So you want me to play the power-hiding geek?"
His "strategy"—if you could call it that—was key.
"Yep. You're already locked as starter. With your skills? Obvious."
Damn right. Who else?
"But outsiders don't know your level."
"Really?"
Not many had seen me pitch. Hell, Dodgers' Wild posted on SNS: "Jin Yuha was a nightmare."
"They got a rough idea. But..."
Jeong Hyeonho flashed a sly, downright sneaky grin.
"Not the exact details, right?"
"Well..."
True?
"Everyone knows you're good. Our guys probably blabbed to buddies. But how good? Nah."
"..."
"And... you haven't shown your full arsenal, have you?"
"Just two games, low pitch counts."
"Exactly why this works. High school grad rookie jumping straight to rotation? Not normal."
Starting to make sense.
"Plus, it's fun."
Still couldn't vibe with that part.
"Gotta baby that arm too. Throwing 160 like candy—don't wanna break it."
"Injuries are a big deal."
I was a two-way player. Two-ways are injury magnets—double the wear.
Never had a major one my whole career, though.
Guess I was blessed with genes. Team docs even wanted to dissect me once.
Crazy bastards...
Anyway.
"Thanks for worrying."
Good thing the skipper cared. I thanked him sincerely.
"Huh? Haha, no biggie."
He scratched his cheek, embarrassed.
"You think it'll be fun too, right Yuha?"
"Nope."
Flat denial on that one.
Exhibitions went smooth. Better than smooth.
Titans topped the standings. But...
"Eh, yeah. First place, huh."
Team reaction was lukewarm. Fans too, from what I saw. Turns out Titans always crushed exhibitions anyway. But...
Kang Gihoo was the real buzz. Dude demolished exhibitions—5 homers in 12 games? Headline material.
"Haha, just exhibitions. Real games start now."
No star ego yet; he was sheepish about the hype.
"You okay, Yuha?"
Me? Fell short of hype. Zero runs allowed in bullpen stints, but no starts.
Heard grumbles: "11 billion signing bonus for a rookie who can't start?" Whatever.
"Yeah."
Didn't care.
"Power-hiding geeks live for this mystery."
By design.
"...Huh. Right."
You're the one who wanted this, coach.
"I'm alive! I made it!"
Opening day eve.
Jeong Hanseong whooped for joy—his name was on the final roster.
"Eh, obviously."
Bit over the top, honestly.
"That's why the hotshots are..."
"Nah, backup catcher was always yours."
"...Really?"
Yeah.
"Kinda rude to say, but the other vets..."
"..."
My breaking stuff was nasty and fast, sure, but failing to even catch it? Shocking. KBO was a freak league.
"Big leagues talent mixed with trash..."
"Dude, watch your mouth."
"It's true."
No framing needed, and they couldn't glove a ball? What's the point?
"You didn't say that to the vets, right?"
"Course not."
Good rookie like me keeps thoughts inside. Actual games? Who knows.
Should be fine, though.
Regression mellowed me out some.
"Ahem. Anyway, intro song set?"
Hanseong coughed, clearly changing subjects.
"Same as always."
"That oldie?"
"Yep. You?"
"Me? The hottest pop star's..."
Ah.
"Shut up."
"Huh?"
"Won't hear it much in games anyway. Not curious."
"You asked!"
"Did I?"
High-pitched voice echoed in my ear for a sec.
"Tch. Anyway."
"Not 'anyway'!"
"Do good. You're my receiver."
"...Got it."
Wanna keep this guy around long-term.
"Keep up? Better be damn good."
"...Asshole."
"Yeah. Knew you were grateful."
Dragging dead weight? Not my style.
2040 KBO season kicked off.
Titans' opening two-game set: Western powerhouse Incheon Fighters.
First game at Fighters' home: James Gilbert dominated 6 scoreless. Gihoo kept his exhibition stroke, crushed a two-run bomb. Titans win.
Second: Foreigner Ivan Rodriguez shaky, not adapted yet. Fighters' sluggers pounced. Titans loss.
1-1 series split.
Team vibe solid. Fans hyped: "Whoa, East 3rd!" Players content with the win. And...
First game at Titans' home stadium.
Starting pitcher: Jin Yuha.
Manager Jeong Hyeonho's trick worked perfectly.