Chapter 70
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 70
Chapter Title: National Team? Me? (1)
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“You two haven't played a full season yet, right?”
“No, sir.”
Just before we arrived in Australia and started our full training camp, Woo Gwan-hyung called us over.
“So, what's the biggest difference between amateur baseball and pro ball?”
Woo Gwan-hyung looked at me as he spoke. Well, I was the only amateur here, so it made sense he'd ask me.
“Getting paid?”
“Yeah, getting paid is a difference, but that's not what I meant. The real gap between amateur and pro baseball is having to play six days a week for 144 games. Most players can't endure that—it's what sets it apart.”
“I'm confident in my stamina, though.”
“Hah, what pro isn't confident in their stamina?”
“Exactly. No pro lacks confidence in their conditioning. But every single one hits a wall during the season at some point. That's when the slump kicks in. It's just human nature.”
Hmm... Is it really that tough?
“From that look on your face, you don't buy it.”
“Hyung, do we really need to explain this to a kid like him?”
“Yeah, some things you only get once you've been through it.”
“But what about you, hyung? You're a designated hitter, right? Isn't that easier?”
As far as I knew, Woo Gwan-hyung had been a DH for the last three years. No fielding—how hard could it be?
“......”
“Whoa... this kid's a total space case.”
“Anyway... ahem... ha... The reason I brought you two here before the season starts is to share my tips on stamina management and routines. Sung-tae, how do you prep for the season?”
“I'm sticking with the routine I used in the military team. It worked well last season.”
“Got it. Then what about you, Maeng-ho? What's your routine?”
My routine...?
“I just train before games, have sex, that sort of thing?”
Rogers said he did the same.
“......”
“Sex? You're a minor!”
“I repeated a year, though.”
“Ahem, yeah, there are guys like that. Some seniors and juniors I know always hooked up after games. But isn't it exhausting during the season?”
“Nah, for me, skipping it makes me think about it mid-game and throws me off.”
This was a fact. I couldn't focus during that last week of camp without it.
“R-right. Well, if it boosts your performance, I can't argue. Anyway, during this training camp, I'll pass on all my know-how. Our manager, Sands, gives players a lot of autonomy, so if you don't find your own routine, you'll fall behind. I won't name names, but plenty of our younger guys got caught up in this 'autonomous baseball' nonsense and their stats tanked.”
Autonomy? Sounds good to me.
“So for this camp, I'll train like I do mid-season. Watch closely and figure out what works for you. Ready to start?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Yes.”
“The instructors I called and some helpers will be here soon, so loosen up until then. You know lower body is key in this sport, right? Let's start with some light running.”
The jet lag was rough, but I could still run. Hmm... but hooking up here might be tricky. Total boonies, and buying it off the street isn't my style.
Ha... forced celibacy it is?
“Hey, did you see the article?”
“Article?”
On the last day of Woo Gwan-hyung's suggested overseas camp, as I was packing to head back to Korea, Yoon Sung-tae approached me. We'd gotten somewhat friendly after two weeks of training together.
For the record, no women in sight for two weeks—just training. Damn it.
“Whoa, the WBC preliminary roster just dropped—didn't you see?”
“What's the point? I'm not on it. It's not the Asian Games or anything.”
“Just look.”
I took Yoon Sung-tae's smartphone and checked the article.
“WBC Preliminary Roster: 50 Names Announced—24 Pitchers, 26 Hitters Confirmed!”
“Don't just read the headline—check the content.”
What's got him so worked up?
'The roster came out later than usual this time. Feels like they really deliberated. Skipping the fluff...'
I scrolled through the preliminary roster slowly. Some expected names. From our team, hitters Kim Soo-ho, Ki Sang-ju, Choi Jin-cheol made it, pitchers Jang Yoon and Park Jun-hyung too?
Huh? Wait, why's my name under infielders?
“See it?”
“My name's there too?”
“Yup. That's what all the articles are saying. Knew it.”
“Articles?”
I'd been too focused on training to check the news.
“You didn't see the pieces saying you and Jang Woo-ju were locks?”
“How would I know? Only guys who skip training to surf the net would.”
“This punk's such a space case.”
“Space case this, space case that.”
I ignored Yoon Sung-tae and reread the end of the article about me.
-'Meanwhile, a notable inclusion in this preliminary roster is high school grads Jang Woo-ju and Ji Maeng-ho, both rookies this year. The KBA Technical Committee stated, “These two showed exceptional performance in high school baseball. We view them as the future of Korean baseball, already at pro level. For the growth of Korean baseball, we believe giving rookies a shot at the national team is right.” That's their reasoning for including them.'
Hmm... Don't know who's on the Technical Committee, but at least one of 'em's got a good eye. Jang Woo-ju aside, I'm definitely pro-level.
'Even in the land of monkeys, some have their heads on straight. Recognizing this Rogers masterpiece. Heh heh heh.'
'It's 'cause I'm awesome.'
'Shut it, monkey boy.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Keep reading the article.'
'As you command.'
-'The Technical Committee also said that if the two players check out well in spring camp, they'll make the national team. Some experts have questioned the choice.'
“Questioned it? Are they blind?”
“What part got you cursing like that?”
“Whoa, you scared me.”
Yoon Sung-tae seemed curious about what I was reading when I suddenly swore.
“But he's right, isn't he? Kids on the national team?”
“Hyung, jealous much? Pathetic. I'll head to the national team first.”
“I'll kill you.”
“C'mon, you felt it training with me. I'm on another level.”
“......”
Yoon Sung-tae had no comeback. The batting practice pitchers and instructors had all raved about me—he had to feel the wall.
“Shut up.”
He flipped me off. Heh, so pathetic.
“Hyung, be grateful. I was a shortstop until my second year. If I'd gone for it in my third, you wouldn't have sniffed first team this year.”
“A shortstop dropout calling himself an infielder? Embarrassing.”
“I was being nice. Mercy. Can't have me dominating short too—no human touch left.”
“Bullshit.”
“Anyway, they're checking me out in spring camp? Sucks getting lumped with Jang Woo-ju, but not bad.”
“You faced Jang Woo-ju?”
“Once, I think? I crushed him. Homer, obviously.”
“They say he hits 160. How was it?”
“That guy's a scrub. Total pushover. Clean stuff, nothing special.”
“With your bat speed, yeah, nothing you can't hit.”
“Finally admitting my greatness. Heh heh heh.”
“Yeah, yeah, you're amazing.”
“You packing or just yapping?”
Woo Gwan-hyung walked in while I was messing with Yoon Sung-tae.
“Ah, hyung. You're here.”
“Packing, sir.”
“Thought you wanted to stay with all that chatter.”
“No way!”
Yoon Sung-tae straightened up at Woo Gwan-hyung's words. No spine on the guy.
“Maeng-ho.”
Whoa, calling me? Woo Gwan-hyung suddenly addressed me.
“Yes, sir?”
'Heh heh, monkey boy. Scaredy-cat pretending...'
'I'm not scared—showing respect to the hyung who shelled out millions to bring me on this camp. Land of courtesy, got it?'
'Bullshit.'
“Congrats.”
“Pardon?”
“The national team article. I saw it.”
“Ah, thanks. But it's just preliminary—not locked in.”
“Nah, a buddy on the Technical Committee says it's basically done.”
“Whoa, Ji Maeng-ho. National team before pro debut?”
“Korean baseball's future looks bright. Spotting talent like me.”
“You're great and all, but lose that weird confidence?”
“C'mon, hyung. Athletes need some swagger. Right?”
I looked at Woo Gwan-hyung as I said it. After two weeks together, I could tell he didn't mind this stuff.
“True. Better than no fire.”
“So, what's the national team like? Never been.”
“Whoa, never? What'd you do in high school?”
“Trained. You went?”
“Regular guest.”
“Rare for a pro to have zero national team experience.”
Ugh, if not for Lee Ki-cheol, I'd have made the youth team too...
“I did go once—as batting practice pitcher.”
“Brag much?”
“Still, I'll beat you to the senior national team.”
“Fine, you're the best. Punk.”
Yoon Sung-tae grumbled a curse and headed to his room, maybe sulking.
“When you're selected and wearing the national team uniform, act with care. Every move represents the country.”
“Got it.”
Seemingly wanting to say that, Woo Gwan-hyung finished and returned to his room.
National team... My heart raced a bit. Wearing that uniform I'd watched as batting practice pitcher in St. Louis? Thrilling.
'Getting excited over nothing.'
'It's the national team. When I was little, they won Olympic gold. Around five? Started baseball then. Dream come true.'
'This guy's full of shit every time he opens his mouth.'
'Huh? Where's the lie?'
'A thickhead like you remembering age five? Please. Be real—remember middle school?'
'What nonsense? I'm serious.'
'Heh, gotta make sense for me to take it seriously. Bet you don't even recall last year.'
'Argh! I remember childhood stuff. It stuck deep in my kid heart.'
'Then who was the last batter?'
'How should I know! Just the impression. And we were batting first, right?'
I remembered that. TV replayed it endlessly. That double-play pitch was art.
'You pieced it from TV. No way you remember—you lack the brains.'
'I do remember! Ugh, whatever. Leave me alone.'
'Heh heh heh, thickhead. No rebuttal, so cursing.'
I ignored Rogers and quietly packed. Geez, I remember it...
Snnniff. The moment we hit the airport, I breathed in Korea's familiar air. Even just two weeks in Australia—nothing beats home.
Christmas over, late December to two weeks Down Under—first Korean air of the year. New Year's abroad wasn't bad. No one to meet anyway.
What bugged me? No sex.
“Thanks for everything, hyung. Honored to train with you.”
“Yeah, Sung-tae. See you in first-team this year. You're ready.”
“Thank you, hyung. Maeng-ho, catch you at camp. Take care.”
“You too.”
They trickled out. Soon as the hyungs left, I grabbed my phone.
“Soyoung? Busy? Just finished camp.”
-“Back? Kinda... salary talks dragging. But I can make time. Tonight good?”
“Sure, tonight it is.”
Hung up with Soyoung, dialed again. Hyun-ah's in season, Hyejin noona's due soon—Jo-eun it is!
“Jo-eun? Whatcha up to?”
-“Maeng-ho! Been waiting!”
“Training kept me slammed. Free now?”
-“Yeah... Center like usual? Or my place?”
“Your place. More comfy.”
Damn it, sex first!