Chapter 10
Chapter 10
“Eden’s coming back?”
Eden Kelly, who had been out for the season due to an injury since the start of the second half, was finally returning to live play. As the news spread, Bennett, a notable figure in the American baseball community, hurried to the stadium.
When Eden stepped up to the plate, he immediately started recording on his camera to post on the community.
“Guys, Eden’s at bat now. The pitcher is an unfamiliar Asian, so don’t be surprised. He throws a knuckleball. Harrison and Kyle are already out—both struck out.”
The two batters Park Si-woo had taken down before facing Eden weren’t pushovers either. Harrison was making a name for himself in AA, and Kyle was a seasoned veteran knocking on the Major League door every year.
Even after taking down those two, imagining Eden losing seemed nearly impossible.
Bennett had spent three hours to be there for this one at-bat and watched the match carefully.
And that at-bat satisfied Bennett in a different way.
“Did you see that? Eden struck out! Not anyone else, Eden! And it was with a knuckleball!”
As soon as the video went up on the community, it spread like wildfire.
“What? Our team’s fourth starter is right there. What are the scouts even doing?”
“Any other angles? What kind of pitch made Eden strike out?”
“Looks young, and he throws a knuckleball?”
“An Asian? Picture quality’s bad, but he could be 40.”
“If it’s an Asian who throws a knuckleball, we can probably find him quickly.”
“I already looked. But I didn’t see anyone who looked like that pitcher.”
“Does anyone know about this pitcher?”
Unlike the heated discussion about Park Si-woo, the topic cooled off within a day. Nobody knew who he was, and above all, the strikeout was done with a knuckleball.
Still, someone who happened to see the video recognized him.
“...No way, is that Si-woo?”
Kim Chan-hee, who had played with Park Si-woo on the youth national team and was pursuing his own challenge in the U.S. minor leagues, occasionally browsed the online community to relieve stress. He stumbled upon the video.
At first, he didn’t recognize Park Si-woo. But something felt familiar, so he examined it closely and realized it was him.
“...Why’s he throwing a knuckleball?”
Still, Kim Chan-hee wasn’t 100% sure. It was Park Si-woo—no one else—but the idea of him throwing a knuckleball was hard to imagine.
“Still, it really looks like Si-woo…”
Eventually, Kim Chan-hee reached out to Park Si-woo after a long time.
But Park was in the middle of training, and unable to resist curiosity, Chan-hee contacted someone else: Choi Myung-jun, who had also played on the youth national team and had been on the same team as Park.
“Hey, Myung-jun. Long time no see.”
-Yeah. What’s up?
‘He’s still prickly,’ Kim Chan-hee thought. Choi Myung-jun had always been a lone wolf on the national team.
Recalling that, Kim Chan-hee quickly got to the point.
“Si-woo, how’ve you been?”
-...Why are you asking me about him?
“You’re on the same team, right? How’s he doing these days?”
-Not on the same team anymore. He got traded.
“…You? Where to?”
-Ha, damn. Not me, he went to the Marines. Right to a team that suits him.
Kim Chan-hee paused, processing the information.
‘Si-woo got traded? Phoenix must be crazy.’
But he soon learned the truth from Choi Myung-jun.
-That guy got Tommy John surgery and screwed up. Now you could probably hit blindfolded.
“…So it’s true?”
-What?
“Si-woo, he was throwing a knuckleball.”
-…What? A knuckleball? Are you sure? You didn’t see it wrong?
“No, not entirely certain, but I got it confirmed.”
After the call, Kim Chan-hee scratched his head nervously.
“Shit. Did I say too much?”
Soon, Park Si-woo, finished with training, also got a call.
-Chan-hee? Long time no see.
“Yeah. I was thinking of you, so I called. You good?”
-Yeah, I was training, couldn’t pick up. Oh, you’re in the U.S. too, right? I’m in the U.S. now, doing rehab.
‘So it’s true…’ Kim Chan-hee thought.
Now he was sure and asked directly.
“So… Si-woo, do you throw a knuckleball?”
-…How did you know?
“There was a video on Reddit. No matter how I looked, it seemed like you, so I wanted to check. Is it really you?”
-Can you send the video?
“Yeah. Just a sec.”
After sending the link, Park Si-woo admitted it.
-Yeah. That’s me.
“…Really?”
-It’s complicated, but yeah, that’s me.
“…You okay?”
Throwing a knuckleball is significant. Every baseball player knows what that means.
-I’m fine. Going okay. But Chan-hee, did you tell anyone else besides me?
“Yeah, I asked Myung-jun earlier.”
-…No way, Choi Myung-jun?
“Did I screw up?”
-…Nah. I’ll contact you later, Chan-hee.
The call ended, and Kim Chan-hee exhaled heavily.
“Crap…”
Crap. The fact that he throws a knuckleball had gotten into Choi Myung-jun’s ears. If Myung-jun, who held a grudge, found out, this would spread in Korea soon. Damn, why did I do that?
No matter how much he wanted to throw, he should’ve waited a little longer. First, he had to inform the director.
He was about to call Korea when Oliver and Eden entered the training area.
“Ready?”
“Ah, can I make a quick call to Korea? It’s urgent.”
“Sure. But what’s up? You don’t look good.”
“Well… um…”
He hesitated, then told them the truth. But Eden didn’t see it as a problem.
“Why would that be an issue?”
“I know that guy, he’d spill it anyway.”
“No, not that. I mean, you throwing a knuckleball.”
-…Huh?
“Your team brought you here for a reason. They bet on your potential. Whether you throw a 96-mph fastball or a 70-mph knuckleball, it doesn’t matter. As long as the results are good. And now, you’re throwing that ball.”
“But my pitch isn’t good enough yet.”
“Thanks. I finally understand what coaches were telling me sometimes.”
What was he talking about?
“Look, when I first got called up to the big leagues, I wasn’t that thrilled. Might sound arrogant, but I thought I could go anytime. I wanted to go when everything about me was perfect. I got scolded by a coach for saying that.”
Training together made it clear: Eden had earned the right to say that. But even he had struggled at times.
“My first MLB at-bat was against Nathan Wilson. I lost miserably.”
Nathan Wilson. I knew that pitcher. The best on Earth right now.
“That’s when I realized: I wanted to see that pitch. But most other pitchers didn’t excite me. You might feel your pitches aren’t good enough now, but aside from a few, they’re nothing. Batters would be scared, though.”
“…So my knuckleball is that good?”
“Why would I help you otherwise? My goal is to see you throw a pitch even greater than the one you got me with when you reach the majors. Like Nathan made me feel, I see potential in your pitch.”
Eden smiled lightly.
“This is my side. I understand yours. If needed, you can even use my name. Or… maybe we should set the stage like this?”
He chuckled to himself and left to make a call.
“Today’s training is done. Contact Korea and ask for help whenever you need it.”
When Oliver left too, Si-woo was alone.
Hearing Eden’s honest intention, he honestly didn’t understand why a batter like him would help. But after listening, he felt a little thrill. Nathan’s name coming from Eden’s mouth alongside his own gave him confidence.
Yes, as a pitcher, all I need is to throw well, right?
Calming his pounding heart, he pulled out his phone.
“Director. I have something to report.”
“Yes. Understood. We’ll handle the rest. Park Si-woo, focus on training.”
Lee Gyu-tae hung up and closed his eyes, lost in thought. Park Si-woo and Choi Myung-jun’s relationship, the reason Si-woo got traded, and the fact that Myung-jun knew he threw a knuckleball—this news would inevitably spread.
Spring camp rosters were about to be announced in a few days, and fans would be furious if Si-woo wasn’t on the list. Add in a knuckleball? This wouldn’t settle easily.
Lee Gyu-tae wanted to prevent this as much as possible. But when Park Si-woo mentioned a name no one expected, the situation flipped. He replayed the video Park had sent him.
‘This will work.’
Eden Kelly. Anyone even slightly interested in the MLB would know that name. And here he was, personally helping Park Si-woo. Even striking out with a knuckleball.
Who would dare criticize Si-woo throwing a knuckleball now?
Lee Gyu-tae picked up the phone.
“Meeting in ten minutes. Gather all team leaders and above.”
Park Si-woo practicing knuckleballs had been a secret known only to him and President Kim Sung-hyun. When the team leaders learned, their faces stiffened.
“This… makes no sense. A promising pitcher throwing a knuckleball! Fans will lose it! We need to protest officially to the Center!”
“As I said, it was part of rehab. But the situation’s changed. Watch this video.”
The previously chaotic meeting room fell silent when the video ended. Even to them, the knuckleball thrown was impressive. And the reason Lee Gyu-tae had shown it was clear.
“Could that pitcher really be Park Si-woo?”
“Yes. That’s correct. And the batter is Eden Kelly.”
Park Si-woo was shocked, but hearing Eden Kelly’s name made it even more so. Si-woo striking out Eden with a knuckleball? Incredible.
“It’s been a big topic in the U.S., but in Korea hardly anyone knows. And that the pitcher is Park Si-woo too. Originally, we planned to coordinate his enlistment upon his return, but plans changed.”
No longer could Si-woo’s knuckleball be hidden. But having the club announce it first might seem like an excuse. So they leaked it gradually.
“Post this video to major baseball communities. No need to reveal the pitcher or batter.”
First, let fans see the video. But not the original. Cut out Park Si-woo’s face, focus on the batter. People would recognize Eden Kelly and naturally be curious about the pitcher. Then—boom.
“Do we handle that part?”
“It will take care of itself.”
Choi Myung-jun wouldn’t release it immediately. He’d wait for the right moment. When the timing was right, the Marines would have no choice but to reveal Si-woo’s status and current condition.
And Lee Gyu-tae’s plan was…
“That guy? Yes, I know. He’s training with me now.”
With Eden’s help, Si-woo’s knuckleball was steadily improving. A few days later, the anticipated bomb exploded. Phones and office lines rang like crazy. Journalists were checking the facts. Amid the chaos, Lee Gyu-tae calmly said:
“Begin.”