Chapter 47
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: Phoenix Tournament Finals (1)
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"Hwi-cheol, you're starting in center field tomorrow. I've thought long and hard about this, but everyone knows defense is key in the finals. I'm counting on you tomorrow, Hwi-cheol."
"Huh? Coach?"
"I know how hard you've worked all this time. Show us what you're really made of tomorrow. And you've got that knack for making contact, right? Go out there and make that pitcher's life hell!"
"Coach... Got it."
The unexpected lineup announcement from the coach brought hot tears streaming from the eyes of the boy he'd called Hwi-cheol. The finals—every high school baseball player's dream. And to be starting in them!
For a boy who'd spent three years as a defensive sub and pinch runner, planning to hang up his cleats at the end of the year, this felt like a dream come true.
"Is it because of that?"
Before the Phoenix Tournament began, words he'd shared only with the coach. A resolve unknown to friends or underclassmen, known solely to the coach.
-"I'm thinking of quitting baseball. I just don't have the talent."
He had the skill to square up the ball, but without power, his hits never carried to the outfield. The limit of his talent. At just seventeen, in his senior year, the boy had realized it. That's why he'd decided to quit the sport he'd devoted his youth and life to.
-"No way! Hwi-cheol! You do have talent—it's just that I'm a lousy coach who couldn't draw it out of you. I'm sorry... But Hwi-cheol, don't you want to go to college?"
-"I'm sorry... I guess this is the end for me."
Had telling the coach he was quitting influenced this lineup? Hwi-cheol gazed at him.
"No, Hwi-cheol. You earned the starting spot with your skill."
The coach's eyes seemed to convey his true feelings. Thank you... Coach. I'll make it up to you. As Hwi-cheol steeled himself, one of his Gunsan High teammates—the team's regular center fielder—approached.
"Congrats, you punk."
His skills are clearly better than mine... Hwi-cheol's heart grew heavy at his friend's words. Wasn't this guy supposed to start tomorrow?
"...Sorry."
He apologized.
"What do you have to be sorry for? Everyone knows you're the best defender on the team."
"Still, you were the starter."
"Dude! Who cares about that now? Winning tomorrow is what matters. Wipe those tears, punk."
His friend's words brought a montage of his baseball life flashing by. Victory—the word he'd only dreamed of. Last year, an error in the finals had cost them a heartbreaking runner-up finish.
"Back then, all I could do was watch from the bench."
Jeong Hwi-cheol, a sophomore then, had watched his seniors' tears in silence. Could I have changed it if I'd been out there? Sleepless nights pondering, drowned in tears.
For two years as a defensive sub, he'd wondered if his efforts could turn that scene into smiles. A year of blood, sweat, and tears fueled by that thought.
Even as a sub, every out he recorded on the field affirmed his efforts weren't wasted. Good thing I stuck with baseball. Tomorrow marked the end of the sport that had carried his youth.
Regret mingled with relief. The weight on his chest lifted.
"Yeah. Tomorrow, I'll give everything, then retire with a light heart."
The Phoenix Tournament finals tomorrow. Against Korean Physical Education High School, conquerors of the Golden Lion and Blue Dragon Tournaments. Hwi-cheol planned to pour his all into that field.
*
The 50th Phoenix Tournament National High School Baseball Championship. The long-awaited finals! Korean Physical Education High School, victors of the Golden Lion and Blue Dragon Tournaments, versus Gunsan High, masters of the comeback! The curtain rises!
Korean Physical Education High School is undeniably the top high school team this year, while Gunsan High boasts rock-solid teamwork.
[Korean Physical Education High School, with Ji Maeng-ho posting a batting average over .500 and scorching hot throughout the tournament, faces Gunsan High, who advanced to the finals on tight lineup cohesion and stellar defense. Which team will claim victory?]
[We'll have to see how it plays out, but Korean Physical Education High School looks favored.]
[Exactly. With the WBSC 18U Baseball World Cup underway, most top high schoolers are on the national team. But Korean Physical Education High School's ace pitcher Kim Won-ho and cleanup hitter Ji Maeng-ho weren't called up due to age restrictions from repeating a year.]
[Right. Both turned 18 after their birthdays. Gunsan High benefits too—no players called up to the youth team. They've beaten powerhouses with that unbreakable teamwork to reach the finals. Makes this matchup even more exciting.]
[Now, let's look at today's lineups. Top of the first, Korean Physical Education High School batting. Leadoff: Ji Maeng-ho, two-hole... three-hole... Interesting—Ji Maeng-ho in leadoff?]
[Coach Lee Ki-cheol's pulling a bold move. Ji Maeng-ho's been walking so much—almost intentional—with his hot bat. Putting him leadoff forces them to pitch to him. Skipping the leadoff hitter with walks in the first takes guts. Lee Ki-cheol, the master of pitch-calling from his playing days, nailed this strategy.]
"Leadoff Ji Maeng-ho... Not bad at all. Lee Ki-cheol's got the brains. Fast on the bases, hard to walk. Solid choice."
Listening to the broadcast through earbuds, So-young nodded approvingly at Korean Physical Education High School's lineup.
"With lineup smarts like this, he'd make a fine battery coach too. Weird that the GM landed a good deal for once."
"Whoa! It's Ji Maeng-ho!"
"Maeng-ho! Look over here!"
"Kyaa! Ji Maeng-ho! Ji Maeng-ho!"
[Cheers erupting from the stands. This kind of roar in high school baseball...]
[High school games usually draw little buzz, but this year, with stars like Jang Woo-ju, Kim Won-ho, Ji Maeng-ho, Park Ji-hwan, and Shin Jung-hoon shining, it's pulling crowds.]
As Ji Maeng-ho stepped into the box, screams exploded from the stands. Handsome face, near-190cm frame, ripped physique. And a bat devouring high school pitching. He had fans for days.
Not just looks, either. His cocky rookie interview after first-round draft buzz lit up the internet, and his tragic backstory—losing parents in a car crash on enrollment day, a year rehabbing injuries, two years wandering before exploding senior year into high school baseball's top hitter—sealed it.
For hardcore fans, Ji Maeng-ho had the trifecta: looks, skill, story.
"Already got personal fans trailing him. Even if we tank, those jerseys'll sell."
AT Thunderbirds had a tradition of handsome players. Their 90s Seoul frenzy came from talent and looks. The tradition lived on with plenty of eye candy.
Even with poor records, they always ranked top in attendance. Add Ji Maeng-ho...
"Marketing head's thrilled. But seriously, no other draft-list prospects?"
Post-Phoenix rookie draft loomed. She'd scouted everyone, strategized with the GM and scout chief. But undrafted free agents were a thing—worth eyes on.
"Gunsan High's top is 25/35. Finals with those stats? Impressive."
Even sans World Cup stars, Gunsan High's grit shone.
[First pitch: strike! Ji Maeng-ho watches.]
[Coming in as leadoff, probably seeing pitches. Catcher called outside, but it jammed him inside.]
"Gunsan High's Kim Jun-hyun's got good stuff. Ballsy jamming Ji Maeng-ho with inside heat. Probably goes 3rd-4th round."
As the first pitch thumped in, Hong, the team lead holding the radar gun, chimed in to So-young.
"No early picks."
"Haha, not saying we take him... Righty, injury-proof mechanics, mid-140s velocity. Decent, right?"
"Stick to the plan for now."
"Ugh, fine."
Stuck-up bitch. Thinks she's the scout chief. How'd AT sink this low? Gotta job-hunt next year...
As the AT front-office duo chatted, Kim Jun-hyun kept firing.
Crack!
[Second pitch! Ji Maeng-ho fouls it off—a massive foul homer just past the pole! His bat's on fire!]
[Even in compact Mokdong Field, cranking homer after homer every game—Ji Maeng-ho's unreal.]
[Indeed.]
[His swing's a pull-power hitter's full rip, but no leg kick boosts contact. He drives opposite-field bombs too—great pick. Stands off the plate, handles inside well. And that outside sweep you just saw? Long arms kill outer-half pitches.]
[No wonder folks say he shrinks the field.]
[Yep. Uppercut path, but elite eye—ignores high stuff. Picture-perfect swing mechanics. Where'd he learn that?]
[Under legendary pro catcher turned coach Lee Ki-cheol, of course—and there it is! Ji Maeng-ho elevates the fourth pitch!]
The pitch left the pitcher's hand, flew to the catcher's mitt—then Ji Maeng-ho's bat split the park, soaring high and deep.
*
Gunsan High center fielder Jeong Hwi-cheol chased the drive to the wall. Thud—the fence halted his backpedal. This is it. Baseball's gods decreed as much.
[Center back, back, back! Nowhere left to go!]
"Not like this! Please!"
Despite Hwi-cheol's desperate plea, the stands were already erupting.
"Ooh!"
"Woooah!!!!"
"Ji Maeng-ho!"
Baseball's a game of momentum. A homer here crushes them. Can't let it happen. Not in my first and last finals. In the brief flight of the ball, Hwi-cheol's mind whirled.
"Stop!"
Thoughts had no place now. Hwi-cheol cleared his mind, mounted the fence. One step, two. Then... leaped.
Humans can't fly like birds. But the boy who'd given his life to baseball—his effort let him soar, if only for a moment.
Like a fledgling's first flap. Unsteady... yet beautiful.
Thwack. Heavy thump into the glove.
"...Got it!"
Sweat traced his cheek like tears saluting his baseball life.
Pain wracked his body post-leap. But joy at thwarting the run drowned it out, erasing all agony.
"I did it! I... did it!"
Lying on the warning track, glove skyward. I caught it! His silent shout reached every teammate.
-Whoaaa!!!
The crowd's roar proved his efforts weren't in vain. Overwhelming emotion.
But Hwi-cheol didn't cry. Top of the first—too early. Tears could wait for the winner's medal. He saved them for that moment.
His baseball wasn't over yet.
*
[Whoa! Center climbs the wall and leaps! Makes the catch!]
[High school baseball with plays like this? Ji Maeng-ho's robbed of a homer.]
[That's Gunsan High! No quick runs!]
[Gunsan High's DNA—sticky defense shuts down scoring. Incredible!]
"Hong, who's Gunsan High's center? New face?"
That spring and range over the wall—did Gunsan have him? Self-reproach hit So-young for missing this gem as she asked Hong.
"Uh... Hang on. Center: Jeong Hwi-cheol. No data? Looks like first start today. Just sub defense logs."
"Jeong Hwi-cheol, Jeong Hwi-cheol... Who?"
So-young racked her brain. Nothing. She strained her eyes for stats, but distance blurred to approximations.
"20-/45? 45 potential eats leagues. But current's too low."
High school seniors hit ~20 stats. 20 was bottom baseline—sub-20 got the minus, like Jeong Hwi-cheol.
"That's why no starts till now? Need closer look at exacts!"
She itched to rush him now. But game's on. Mokdong's VIP seats near home let batter checks easy.
"Jeong Hwi-cheol. Found him—9-hole? Gonna take a bit."
Hanchego's starter: lefty Park Young-cheol, 140km/h, top prospect next year. Unknown condition, but normal? Jeong's at-bat by third inning at earliest.
[Kim Jun-hyun Ks the next batter. Looking sharp.]
[Nailing Ji Maeng-ho settled him—better command. Huge play by center Jeong Hwi-cheol.]
[Right. Now Hanchego's three-hole, Lee Joo-hyun, up.]
"We aren't the only ones missing Jeong Hwi-cheol, right?"
"Nah, confirmed—no records, first start."
"What do you see in him?"
"Jeong? ~180cm size is fine, but no swings yet. Kids pull crazy defenses sometimes. Need more looks."
"Drop to late rounds?"
"Hah? No way he gets drafted. One start in three years? Gotta be busted somewhere."
Would they start a dud in finals? Gunsan isn't a memory-maker charity.
No need stirring drama, so So-young bit her tongue. But her eyes screamed: Jeong Hwi-cheol had something.