Chapter 57
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: Underhand Promise
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"Th-thank you...!"
At the words allowing him just one at-bat, Cha Si-hwan shot to his feet.
His heart began pounding like mad. How long had he waited for a chance like this, straight out of a dream?
'Calm down... If I get too excited, it's over.'
Cha Si-hwan steadied his breathing by picturing his grandmother alone in their cramped home.
But then the coach's words popped into his head again, muddling his thoughts.
-Good! Keep that arm angle. Listen to me, and your velocity's up—how much better is it now?
If he ignored the coach here, pitched at his original angle, and didn't show well...
Not only would he never get called up to the first team, but his days in the second team would get even tougher.
Hell, he might even get released.
His head knew...
And rationally...
He had to follow the coach's instructions if he wanted any future at all.
'But I want to throw it... my way, like always.'
His chest burned hot. Something inside him surged, demanding he throw his own pitch.
Cha Si-hwan closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
The mound from the President's Cup semifinals, the pitch that had made him a pro.
Recalling that moment as he stepped up, he slowly went into his windup.
He'd let his body decide on the angle.
Just let it flow.
As he started his delivery, his upper body tilted. If overhand pitchers faced the world straight on,
then this 90-degree-turned world was submarine pitcher Cha Si-hwan's domain.
His arm dropped slowly, naturally, smoothly like flowing water, nearly brushing the ground.
The arm angle held exactly like that day.
The moment the ball left his fingertips, rosin dust swirled in the air.
The greatest strength of underhand pitchers was maximizing spin for insane movement, inducing whiffs.
This ball leaving Cha Si-hwan's hand right now...
It was a plain four-seam grip, but it showed bizarre movement,
almost buzzing as it flew in, and the catcher instinctively raised his mitt a bit.
Cha Si-hwan's lips curved up.
A perfect pitch that rarely came out right.
Maybe this ball could catch the manager's eye. Just as hope flickered—
The batter's bat whipped out fiercely after the ball.
-Crack!!
The brutal hit sound raced up Cha Si-hwan's spine.
He whipped his head around in panic and only exhaled when he saw the ball sailing way foul past the pole.
Glancing back at the plate, the batter stood with his mouth slightly agape, mumbling something.
-Haven't been late on a reaction like that in ages...
Seeing that, Cha Si-hwan let out a hollow chuckle instead.
'I'm the one who's shocked...'
He thought it was the best pitch he'd thrown in years. But the guy not only made contact easily—he fouled it halfway to the moon.
...This is first-team level?
His vision darkened for a second.
"Get it together, Cha Si-hwan."
He muttered, slapping his face with his palm.
It was perfectly located, but still a foul—and a strike. Count in his favor for now.
Hoping to hit the zone again, he threw. This time, the bat didn't catch up.
"Ball!"
Not that it didn't catch up.
It missed the zone by so much it wasn't worth swinging.
Biting his lip, Cha Si-hwan fired again.
"Ball!"
This one sailed low and way wide.
'Please... please! Just once! Just one good one!'
He prayed desperately inside as he kept throwing.
"Ball!"
"Ball!"
In the end, Cha Si-hwan issued a walk.
Except for that one pitch, every single one was awful control. And even that got fouled to the seats.
Would better control even get a whiff from that batter?
Before he could dwell, the manager strode to the mound.
'It's over...'
Cha Si-hwan hung his head and gritted his teeth.
What now?
Wait for release day?
Or swallow his pride and beg the coach again...?
"Pack your bags."
They say when you're desperate, you see nothing else.
At the manager's curt words, Cha Si-hwan had already tossed pride out the window, pleading in a groveling voice.
"Just... give me a little more time? I won't be stubborn anymore! Hell, trade me if you want. I'll pump up the velocity and fake it! Just... not release...!"
The manager tilted his head at him.
"What are you talking about? Why would I cut you?"
His tone was genuinely puzzled, and Cha Si-hwan's eyes went wide.
"But... you said pack my bags..."
"To Sajik Stadium. I want to tweak a few things... You'll listen to me, right?"
The manager grinned and patted his shoulder. Only then did a smile break across Cha Si-hwan's face.
"You don't like that?"
Cha Si-hwan knew it was a tease, but he shook his head frantically anyway.
"No! I'll work hard—really hard!"
Even after the manager turned to the coach, Cha Si-hwan kept bowing at 90 degrees.
And the manager put a hand on the coach's shoulder too.
"You pack too."
The coach's lips twitched up expectantly.
"Sajik for me too?"
"Nah, you're going home."
"Pardon...?"
The coach's face went blank as he grabbed at the manager, demanding what that meant, but
the manager kept walking like he hadn't heard.
The moment Cha Si-hwan threw underhand, I hesitated for a second.
He was the guy behind the Escape from Last Place Effect I'd been hunting, and a rare submarine pitcher to boot.
I thought about whiffing to hype him up, but suddenly my bat was swinging after it.
How to put it.
It was that alluring. Instinct screamed to face this pitch.
His control fell apart after, but that one throw proved his potential.
Anyway, good for him.
He'd make the first team soon, so if I filmed it, Shin Ha-yoon could help analyze.
As I put the borrowed gear back and headed for the exit, someone came running up behind.
"Cha... Cha Tae-hyun! Wait!"
Cha Si-hwan gasped, grabbing my arm.
"Huff... You're Cha Tae-hyun, right?"
"Yeah. But I'm your junior, so feel free to drop the formalities."
"No way... How could I with my benefactor."
Jin Tae-hyun's surprise worship flashed in my mind, so I begged.
"Please... I'm uncomfortable. Just talk casually."
"Okay... I'll do that. Anyway... really. Thank you so much. If it wasn't for you... this chance... ugh... snff..."
Suddenly Cha Si-hwan bit his lip, bowed his head, started sniffling, then burst into loud sobs.
His cries tore at my heart, full of years of pain.
I waited till he calmed, then left one line.
"Si-hwan hyung. See you at Sajik."
At "Sajik," Cha Si-hwan beamed and thanked me again.
Before getting in the manager's car, I glanced back.
Sangdong Field, where first-team hopefuls grind.
At the exit, Cha Si-hwan waved furiously.
One thing I always think since joining Phoenix: this team has some seriously unique folks.
"Hey, Si-woo, after practice, kimchi soup and sweet-and-sour pork?"
"What? You little...!"
"Hm? My Korean wrong?"
"Nah! Didn't know you were a kimchi soup guy. Let's go! Kimchi soup time!"
Not unique—weird?
"Cha Tae-hyun. Good morning."
Ah, another weirdo incoming.
"Morning, Ro-woon hyung."
Lee Ro-woon hyung goes beyond unique... fourth-dimensional? That's why he's always solo at team events.
My usual MO with types like him is to show zero chat interest and slip away like water, but...
"Know why I became a lefty?"
He sees the Escape effect crystal clear too, so I can't fully dodge.
Plus that post-trade interview: "Feels like the ball's coming out better now that I have a friend who listens!"
"Hmm... No clue. Care to share?"
"To follow my idol, Shigeno Goro."
...Who? Japanese player?
I nodded like I got it.
"Goro was originally right-handed, but after wrecking his shoulder, he switched to lefty and throws over 160 km/h."
Worth respecting.
Shoulder injury forces lefty switch? Straight out of a manga.
"So your goal's 160 too?"
"Of course! And making the majors. That's the dream."
"You'll get there, just like Goro."
Liked my answer? Ro-woon grinned and bumped fists.
"Yeah... You really get me, Tae-hyun. You know I'm starting today, right? Take care of me, Ibo!"
Ibo what...?
Bumped back casually; he finally left.
Pulled out my phone, searched "Ibo."
[Japanese for partner, buddy.]
Oh, that's it?
Wonders why he loves Japanese stuff, but hey—teammate status unlocked?
"Gotta catch well for him today."
First spring game: Busan Phoenix vs. Daejeon Volcanoes. Sajik Stadium packed as always.
Other fans ask, "Why go watch perpetual losers?" Tough to answer.
No big reason.
"Game today?"
"Spring training? Wanna catch some ball?"
Busan folks just love baseball.
That's it.
Otherwise, who'd go to a last-place team's games?
Maybe we are nuts...
Anyway, most go without huge expectations.
But today's full house had real hype.
"This year feels different, right?"
"Totally. New coaches, big signings."
Phoenix's bold moves made the usual "this year's different" feel real.
"Oh... Ro-woon's starting though."
"Harm-woon ain't it... Should've gone Su-ho for opener."
Ro-woon wasn't bad—sometimes great—but "Harm-woon" nickname fit his wild inconsistency.
"What dice roll for Ro-woon today?"
"Four maybe? Spring game, no nerves."
Fans didn't know.
Ro-woon's dice...
'Got a fun junior now. Can't show ugly stuff.'
Were swayed by something that trivial.
Big windup, dropping the ball from height like a hammer.
Four-seam slicing wind, spinning fiercely, kissing the corner and sucked into the mitt.
-Thwack!!
Volcanoes' leadoff froze, bat nowhere near.
"Striiike!"
Board flashed 151 km/h—Ro-woon's top speed.
"You said Ro-woon rolls four today...?"
"Yeah."
"Looks like six."
Not even escaped last place yet, but Ro-woon hyung's stuff is alive.
Just gave up a single to the two-hole, but bad-hop bounce to Andy—not the pitch's fault. Ball was solid.
Dice probably high today.
If I cracked that code...
Anyway, one out, runner on first.
Good stuff or not, can't relax.
Especially this three-hole: Kim Taek-hwan, Volcanoes' franchise star, contact god. Extra focus.
-Thwack!
"Foul!"
Nice breaker, but he ducked low and pushed it foul. Nearly fair for a hit.
-Thwack!
"Foul!"
-Thwack!
"Foul!"
Kim Taek-hwan gnawing at Ro-woon hyung's pitches. "Taek-hwan game" makes sense.
Long at-bat heating him up?
Flat four-seam sailed in.
Taek-hwan's bat whipped—no miss—and ball screamed left of second.
Tricky hop, but botch it and Ro-woon's mentally cracked.
I dove, glove stretched—snagged it barely.
But runner closing on second.
Too late to pull and throw.
Squeezed glove, snapped wrist swing—flung it open.
Rebound ball snagged barehanded by Andy,
"Out!"
Quick toss to first.
"Out!"
Double play turned.
"Whoa, shit! Tae-hyun! Killer play! Kimchi soup level!"
Grabbed Andy's hand, stood.
Dunno kimchi soup defense, but yeah—solid.
"You too, Andy. No barehand, no DP."
As we headed down, Ro-woon yelled from the mound.
"Knew you had it, Ibo!!!"
All eyes on him—'what a clown?'—but since Ibo's me...
"Ibo!! Double Cross Ceremony with me!"
Pretended not to see/hear, bolted to dugout.