Chapter 75
Chapter 75
This national team might be missing some Major League players, but it’s still a gathering of the best players in Korea.
I was curious about how they trained and how it differed from the Marlins.
“Well, I thought you’d be a little cocky after winning, but you’re pitching well.”
“Coach, how could I be anything else with you watching? Haha.”
Senior Park Hyun-woo’s mouth smiled, but his eyes were icy.
That one comment from the national team pitching coach had this effect.
I knew the coach was exceptional, but I hadn’t expected this reaction from Hyun-woo.
And it wasn’t just him. Every other top-tier player who had been coached by him was also stunned.
After giving Park Hyun-woo plenty of advice, the coach turned to me.
“Next, hmm… Si-woo. Ready?”
“Yes. I’ll start right away.”
The coach I observed was the type who would speak up directly if something needed to be said.
I pitched slightly tensely, throwing just twenty balls since it was the first day.
“Hm. Good. Well done. Go back to your room and rest well.”
“…Yes, thank you.”
That was it.
“Coach?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Is that all?”
“I said rest well. Your form and balance are good, the ball is solid, and after throwing all season, your stamina is fine. There’s nothing else to say. The team managed you really well. But that guy over there…”
The coach’s gaze landed briefly on Park Hyun-woo, who quickly looked away.
So that was all the advice for me. It felt a little hollow, but I took it positively. My approach wasn’t wrong, at least.
“Ah, Si-woo. You’re the starter for the last game. You won’t pitch before that, so get your body ready accordingly.”
“Yes, understood.”
This evaluation series had five games: a warm-up game with Sangmu, two games against Taiwan, and two games against Japan. Both teams were in the same group, so winning was essential.
“Think both of them will just roll over for us?”
As Park Hyun-woo said, the rivalry with Japan was an old story. Taiwan had improved so much that victory wasn’t guaranteed.
“That’s why you’re crucial. Just win the one important game.”
“Is it just up to me?”
“Yes. It works. I’ve done it before.”
Anyway, I wanted to see what Japan would be like in this evaluation. ABS also had challenge rules, so we’d see how they’d call the knuckleball. There was a lot to consider.
“Already done?”
When I went to the locker room after training, I saw Hyun and O-garam looking surprised.
If the national team’s fourth starter was likely to be chosen, those two were the top candidates. Hyun, a left-hander who also taught me the splitter, and O-garam, a right-hander who could throw 160 km/h.
“Seems I trained alone. Coach didn’t touch you?”
“I heard a lecture for over an hour, though.”
“…I almost died throwing the slow curve.”
“I also got a piece of advice from the coach.”
“What?”
“Rest well at the dorm.”
“Ha, that trickster. He just said that because he had nothing else to say.”
Hyun teased me, but Park Hyun-woo blocked him.
“Watch it. We don’t waste our time recklessly, so don’t touch him.”
The two were the same age, thirty-one, and seemed genuinely close.
“Did I harm him? I taught him the splitter.”
“You say that, but he said he re-taught you. Then it wasn’t you who taught him.”
They bickered while O-garam approached and whispered.
“You still don’t know the field layout, right? Want me to show you?”
“That’d be good.”
Since we’d be here until next week, it was worth knowing.
While the two bickered, O-garam and I slipped away.
“The facilities are amazing.”
“Right? I thought the same when I was a rookie. Never go to the second team.”
We were at Jamsil Dome, home of Seoul Friends, O-garam’s team.
“You’d enjoy playing here too.”
“I prefer classic stadiums.”
“Just joking. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
We spent time chatting, and soon our tour of the stadium ended.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. It’s just talking while walking. But can I ask one thing?”
“Yes.”
“Is my curve really that bad?”
I thought for a moment and answered honestly.
“It’s fine, but throwing too many makes it easier for hitters.”
“Right? Thanks.”
I thought that would be the end, but then senior catcher Kang Hyun-woo appeared, thanking me repeatedly.
“…Yes?”
“Ah, sorry. Just excited. About O-garam’s curve—you said he’d ditch it immediately?”
“…I don’t think that was because of me?”
The regular season ended with thirty wins and a clean sweep in the Korean Series. As a fellow pitcher, O-garam naturally admired Si-woo.
‘Wow, he wakes up so early.’
‘No flour in anything he eats?’
‘What strength…’
I observed how Si-woo lived, what he ate, and how he trained.
Si-woo noticed and called O-garam over.
“Want to train together?”
“…Sorry, I was staring too much.”
“No problem. I’d like someone to train with.”
“...Really?”
From that day, O-garam stuck close to Si-woo, which positively affected the national team.
“Those two are always together?”
“Hmm. Should I join in?”
O-garam wasn’t the only one admiring Si-woo. All pitchers noticed how great he was. Even if they pretended not to, their eyes followed him. Once O-garam started, others gradually joined around Si-woo.
“…Good to see. Everyone working hard.”
The pitching coach didn’t interfere, content to watch the team unify. Of course, if other drills were delayed, he would get upset.
Before long, the evaluation series approached. The team beat Sangmu without issue and began a two-game series against Taiwan.
The starter for the first game was Daegu’s third ace, Choi Seung-joon.
“The lineup is incredible.”
Taiwan came ready with their best, including NPB players.
The first game ended 7-8, a loss. Pitchers couldn’t perform, and the team’s old weakness showed.
For the second game, Hyun pitched well: four innings, one run allowed.
“How was it?”
Hyun immediately sought Si-woo after returning to the dugout.
“You were amazing.”
Hyun’s wide smile filled the screen.
After Hyun, other pitchers performed well, and the second game ended 2-5, a solid win.
Next were two games against Japan. The first starter: O-garam.
He was chosen simply because he had the fastest, most powerful pitches. In international tournaments, speed and quality were decisive. Previous national teams lacked pitchers who could overwhelm hitters. O-garam’s pitches were sufficient.
Japan’s coach, Wataru Ito, expected the same.
“This is our stage.”
After three consecutive winless years, Japan’s pride was wounded. Their problem: Nathan Wilson, the US talent who blocked them from winning. Now, even Euden Kelly joined him.
“Good. We’ll settle this properly.”
Japan sharpened their skills, and Korea was the target.
Still, one had to be careful: Si-woo.
His name was already famous in Japan. Scouts visited him; their assessment: he could be compared to Nathan Wilson.
Wilson wasn’t a name to throw around lightly. Being compared to him was an honor for any pitcher, yet Ito doubted it.
‘He’s just lucky.’
If it were NPB, Si-woo’s performance of this level would be impossible.
Still, caution was necessary.
Si-woo was expected to pitch tomorrow. For now, winning today’s game came first.
O-garam, Korea’s starter, had already been analyzed. His pitches were excellent, but he was easily shaken on the mound if things didn’t go his way. That weakness didn’t warrant direct confrontation.
“Just follow the plan.”
Ito Wataru began the game, but something felt off.
O-garam didn’t throw the slow curve that had been analyzed. That was fine; it was a low-frequency pitch with incomplete form.
Even strategies meant to shake O-garam weren’t working.
‘He’s shaken, but it doesn’t matter.’
He did appear unsettled on the mound, but after an inning, he regained composure in the dugout.
‘What the hell…?’
Ito watched closely and realized an absurd truth:
“…Si-woo?”