Chapter 90

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 89

Chapter Title: National Team vs. Australia (4)

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“Ji Maeng-ho, you sure you're really okay? Want me to sub you out for someone fresh?”

“I'm good, Coach. You know how tough I am.”

“Alright, got it. Speak up the second anything feels off.”

“Yes, sir.”

A sub? No way I was passing up a chance like this. Plus, the bottom of the sixth starts with me at bat. Absolutely not getting pulled.

'This kid's built like a damn orangutan. How's he walking away unscathed after that collision?'

'Heh, all thanks to consistent training.'

'The catcher in full gear got stretchered off, but the runner's fine. Guess I gotta acknowledge you now.'

'Took you long enough. What, were you holding out on me?'

'I'm saying your genes are mixed with orangutan DNA! Human-orangutan hybrid—how horrifying is that? Hold up! Dying and making this discovery... If I'd known while alive, the Nobel Prize would've been mine. What a shame. Heh heh heh.'

Tsk tsk. Thought he was finally giving me props for a sec. Did Rogers take the hit instead of me or something? In the end, it was all bullshit from Rogers. Ignoring his nonsense, I grabbed my glove and headed to the field.

Boo, no fun.

Australia, down by seven after the fifth, swapped in a pitcher from their domestic league. I'd been hoping for a MLB guy, but with defeat looming, it felt like they were calling in the loss.

I got where the Australian team was coming from. They were saving arms to beat Japan after losing to us. They had a merc from the KBA league too, but they were probably holding him for a start against Japan.

'Who was that guy again?'

I'd heard the scouting report, but he wasn't important enough to stick in my memory.

'Eh, it'll work out. Right, Mr. Rogers?'

With Rogers around, an unknown pitcher wasn't a big deal. Watching the new guy's warm-up tosses, his velocity was low 140s km/h. Nothing special.

“Maeng-ho, just get on base. Big bro's got your back again.”

The next batter, Lee Eun-chong, called out to me.

“I'll make it home on my own.”

“With a homer?”

“Probably?”

Not hitting a homer off an Aussie league pitcher? That'd be ridiculous. Warm-ups ended, and I strode to the plate.

'Fastball first pitch, I'll swing.'

Timing was locked in from his warm-ups, so I trusted my fastball swing.

'Lucky break. Fastball. Catcher's target low and away. Probably a ball.'

Regrettably, I decided to watch and waited for the first pitch.

“Ball.”

Hmm. Fastball's nothing special. Basically batting practice speed? This guy's a national teamer?

'Don't get cocky. He's national team level, so he's got an out pitch.'

'Got it.'

Ugh, should've paid more attention to scouting. What was his breaking stuff? Skipped details since he wasn't starting. Gotta listen properly next time.

'Slider. Breaking away.'

Another one to let go.

“Ball.”

Ha. All outside. Not challenging me? Coward.

“Time!”

I called time to break his rhythm, then pretended to get spray while whispering to Lee Eun-chong.

“Hyung, mind giving me a quick rundown on his best pitch?”

“What? You skip the scouting report?”

“Nah, just... nervous. Wanna hear it straight from you.”

“Ah... Explains not swinging. Yeah, first time on the national team, I was shaking too. Velo's low-to-mid 140s. Mainly curves and sliders, nothing sharp on break, but control's top-notch.”

“Thanks, got it.”

Great control? Perfect.

Precise pitchers calling their spots were my bread and butter. Just swing. Wild ones spraying to the wrong side were more annoying.

“[Why so slow? Chicken out?]”

“[Cut the trash talk. We all understand you.]”

I brushed off the catcher's chirping and stepped in. Bring whatever.

'Curve. Low.'

Low curve to induce a swing? Two balls, might gamble. Off the zone a bit, won't bury it in the dirt.

'...Right, Mr. Rogers?'

'Spot on. Swing hard.'

Even a miss, count's in my favor.

'Come on!'

“Hiyah!”

Weird kiai as the pitcher delivered,

Crack!

Bat met ball dead center. Clean hands, no vibration.

'Not even close.'

Casually dropping the bat, I trotted to first.

“Congrats. First homer.”

“Just getting started.”

Quick fist-bump with the first base coach, circled the bases, and hit home plate. Lee Eun-chong greeted me.

“Whoa, maknae. Homer congrats. You crushed that.”

“Can't trouble you hyungs. Swing easy.”

“You say that...”

Grinned at him and headed to the dugout. Cheers rang out... Wait, what?

'Why so quiet?'

No usual homer roar. Confused, I scanned the dugout. No one met my eyes.

'What the fuck?'

“Cheol-young hyung? Seung-chul hyung? Ki-sang-ju sunbaenim!”

Called out to guys I thought were cool with me, but they ignored me. No way... Am I... getting iced out?

Brought back high school flashbacks. Eyes welled up.

“Sigh.”

Shuffled to my spot. Fine, whatever, but Jang Woo-joo? Not cool! Kid younger than me ignoring me? He was in the bullpen, though—no sign.

“Congratulate me... First homer...”

Muttered from the corner. Then—

“Whoa, this guy's crying?”

“For real? He didn't know?”

“Puhaha. Look, tears in sunbaenim's eyes.”

“Wah, uno. Homer and tears.”

What? Fuck...!

Players swarmed, pounding me playfully.

“Ow, ow! Hurts! It hurts!”

Painful, but felt good. Thought I was really ostracized with all the tension.

“Hey! Homer congrats!”

“Dude hits his first in the nationals, not pros.”

“Ugh! Hurts!”

Beating ended, gear off, coach approached.

“Congrats, Ji Maeng-ho.”

“Th-thanks.”

“You've got star potential. Seen a lot of players, but few shine like you.”

“...Really?”

“Yeah. Keep pushing. You could surpass Joo Hyung-jin.”

“Obviously. I'll top Joo, you, and even Babe Ruth.”

“Hahat. Little less cocky wouldn't hurt. Anyway, told the manager—I'll let you know if they find the homer ball.”

“Thanks.”

Coach's words hit emotional. National team reps a nation. Risky picking a raw rookie like me. Felt validated.

But just one step. Win KBA, lift So-young's limit. MLB, follow then surpass Rogers, etch my name.

Just one step.

...Tears came anyway.

Remembered promising parents pro before entrance ceremony. Car crash wrecked life. Surgery, rehab, crushed pride, spot gone in club. Teammates' disdain. Pride crushed again. Changed childhood friend.

...Vicious cycle.

Then met Rogers. Contract got me here. Savior reigniting dying life. Women I met.

Hated her at first, now Hye-jin unnie carrying my kid. Ignored me, now mine: Hyun-ah. Nearly quit post-crash like her injury-quit: Jo-eun. Saw my potential, first-round pick: So-young.

And nationals by chance, first homer.

None without meeting Rogers that day. Life I thought ruined changed then.

But even if all gone...

...Missed parents.

'Idiot. Grown-ass man blubbering.'

'Thanks, Mr. Rogers...'

'Shut it. Nothing grosser than a dude like this. So which parent's the orangutan? How'd the crossbreed work?'

'You're bad at fake concern. So dishonest.'

His tsundere trash-talk warmed me, made me laugh. Knew he was lightening the mood...

'What? Idiot? Why's he happy getting roasted?'

'Message received loud and clear. Thanks.'

'...Brain-dead meathead. Traded brains for muscle.'

Means I'm strong, right? Classic Rogers praise. Long bond let me read the affection in his barbs.

“Huh? Sunbaenim! He's crying then laughing?”

“Maknae's thrilled.”

“Not cheering? First homer ever?”

Yeah, just one step. Time to cheer hard.

“Lee Eun-chong fighting! Send it!”