Kinda Likeable These Days

It was the tail end of September, the pennant race winding down into its final handful of games.

The team with the fewest remaining contests had five left; even the one with the most still had fewer than ten.

The Golden Glove.

For some it was an award they collected like daily bread; for others it was the glory of a lifetime.

Every year, once the season hit its final stretch, baseball fans' attention drifted away from the games themselves and toward who would claim that Golden Glove honor. This year was no different.

And for good reason.

The Seoul Wolves had already clinched the regular-season title before the season even ended.

And the Wizards, who had somehow held onto second despite the loss of a key starter in Shin Tae-yong.

First and second place were already filled. The seesaw battle for third and fourth was starting to take shape as well, while the bottom three teams were the same familiar names that had occupied those spots for years, so interest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there was low.

In short, aside from the handful of fan bases still fighting for the last playoff ticket, attention was beginning to shift from game results to the awards ceremony.

The Suwon Wizard fans, however, had a slightly different focus.

Gong Ji-hoo had completely monopolized the attention of Suwon Wizard fans. There were several reasons why a guy who had only appeared in about ten games—and only as a pinch hitter at that—was dominating the board's real estate.

The Suwon Wizards had already locked in second place.

The two players putting up the best numbers for the Wizards, Park Ji-han and Lee Dae-beom, had virtually zero chance of winning a Golden Glove.

And above all else: Gong Ji-hoo, who had always been the most famous name on the Suwon Wizards, was finally showing what he could do in the first team. Complete with the unique quirk of serializing a web novel on the side.

And so the Suwon Wizards' biggest issue-maker, Gong Ji-hoo—

—was in Busan.

If I said I never expected to see my name in the starting lineup…

That would be a lie.

Eight games as a pinch hitter, ten plate appearances: six hits, two of them home runs. The remaining four at-bats, I walked without making an out.

In short, right now I was a 1.000 hitter.

And my so-called competition, Jeong Geun-wook, was just steadily maintaining his form.

Hovering in the low .200s, that is.

Me eventually overtaking Jeong Geun-wook and cracking the starting lineup was inevitable.

"My first start is in Busan of all places?"

I just never thought it would be here.

I don't hate the Busan Swallows as a team. Hell, the protagonist of the novel I'm serializing, The Genius Batter Regresses, plays for Busan. But for some reason, Swallows fans hate me.

"Well, that's obvious, isn't it? Think about that interview you did."

It was so unfair I could scream.

"That wasn't what I meant by it…"

Park Ji-han's leisurely smile as he needled me was seriously annoying.

About fifteen minutes until first pitch. In the dugout, Park Ji-han was already wrapped in a thick jacket.

"Aren't you getting a little too comfortable just because you're not playing today?"

"Why, jealous?"

As if.

"I just feel bad for a baseball player who can't even get in the game…"

"Not because you don't have anyone to share the booing with?"

"…"

I just clicked my tongue.

"…For real?"

"A little…?"

"Even if I played I couldn't take the heat for you. Swallows fans love me."

His alma mater was in Busan.

"So many people begged me to come to the Swallows in free agency—you really think they'd boo me?"

"Tsk…"

While I was getting thoroughly owned in the exchange, a Busan celebrity finished the ceremonial first pitch and the game got underway.

My spot in the order today was second. I left the dugout knowing I'd be in the box from the top of the first.

Park Ji-han watched me go.

"So, you gonna lose?"

he asked.

"I'm winning."

Both teams' lineups today looked very different from usual. Unfamiliar names everywhere.

A 1.5-team kind of lineup. The sort you saw often enough at the end of a season.

It couldn't be helped. The Suwon Wizards had already locked in second place, and the opposing Busan Swallows had already been eliminated from the fall classic and were sitting in eighth.

The Wizards were giving rest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Park Ji-han and An Sung-woo, who had basically played full seasons and were worn down. The Swallows, for their part, had sat a few of the names that usually filled out their lineup every day.

Even so, the top of the order still featured regulars—which made seeing my name in the two-hole feel pretty strange.

"Ball."

Leadoff hitter Lee Seung-ha. Normally a mid-tier guy who hit lower in the order, but he had a decent eye. He used that strength to draw a walk and strolled down to first.

I finished a few practice swings while watching him, then started toward the box—

—Booooooo!!!

A massive wave of boos. Every last one of them aimed at me.

What the hell did I even do wrong…

All I did was say the nickname of my beloved reader. Is it my fault that was their name?

"Good to see you~"

I stepped into the box, pretending I hadn't heard a thing, and offered a greeting.

"Oh, look who it is—our sworn enemy Gong Ji-hoo."

"Shut up."

The Korean baseball world is small. So the fact that I, a guy who hadn't really made any new friends ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠since high school, still knew someone on the other team wasn't all that strange.

Kim Jae-sang of the Swallows.

The young catcher who had appeared like a comet for a Busan Swallows franchise that had always been desperate for catching help.

Elite defense. Power numbers that put him in the home-run race every season. A guy who had claimed the cleanup spot not long after debuting.

My high-school classmate, and one of the few friends I actually had.

"I told you that wasn't what I meant…"

"Sure~ You're the one who went on record saying the Swallows play terrible baseball. You gotta live with the boos. If you hate it that much, come to Busan."

"Tsk… That's a bit much."

Even so, a team that had crashed out of the postseason seven years running was a little hard to defend.

"Why? Novel Gong Ji-hoo plays for Busan."

"You… read my novel?"

"It was pretty fun, actually. A guy who's never even held a girl's hand writing a harem story."

"You bastard."

Thwack!

A fastball slammed into the mitt.

"Ball."

Outside the zone.

"Even if I misspoke, isn't a pitch like that a little much?"

I twisted out of the way and complained to Kim Jae-sang. It had been a tight inside heater that nearly drilled me.

"Hey hey~ It was a miss. I told him to go a little deeper and the kid got nervous."

As if to prove it, the pitcher dipped his head in apology.

"It's his first start today. Honestly, he's a fan of Author Gong too. He was pumped when he found out he was facing you."

"Yeah?"

Well, nothing I can do about that then.

I stepped out of the box for a moment and took a swing.

—Booooooo!!

The home fans of the Busan Swallows only got louder.

It warmed my heart, somehow.

"Not singing today? Everyone says that's your routine—singing in the box."

I didn't really have a routine like that. Singing was just something that came out naturally because I enjoyed being at the plate.

Not that I wasn't enjoying the current situation, of course.

Whoosh—!

The pitch came in. I tracked the trajectory of a slider that clipped the upper edge of the zone—

CRACK!!!

—and crushed it.

I flipped the bat and admired the flight of the ball.

"Feeling like keeping it quiet today."

Quiet for me, and for every last Swallows fan in the building.

Glove in one hand, I headed out to the outfield.

Today's starter was Lee Eun-su, a face I saw all the time in the Futures League. He was throwing with the same awkward stuff you'd expect from a permanent fixture of the Suwon Wizards' second team, but from the Wizards' perspective—having already optioned both foreign pitchers to prepare for the postseason—he was the best option available.

At least he didn't drink last night.

My first game after regressing. Back then, starter Lee Eun-su had been throwing through a hangover.

Apparently things were different in the first team.

Well, for him this is basically the last chance too…

He was thirty. The age when guys bouncing between the second team without ever putting up meaningful big-league numbers start seriously thinking about retirement.

A ground-ball guy who lives off the two-seamer… maybe not many balls will find the outfield?

Even if most of the other side were backups from an eighth-place team, Lee Eun-su was a second-teamer himself, so balls might still find me often enough.

While I was thinking about defense—

"Boooo~ Gong Ji-hoo sucks at baseball!"

A young, high-pitched boo.

"Boooo~"

A little kid in a Swallows cap.

"Tch."

Outfielders play closest to the stands. Which means we also hear the boos from the closest range.

Thwack!

"Strike three!"

Even while I stood with my back turned, soaking in the jeers, the game went on.

Lee Eun-su, pouring every ounce of his 138 km/h into a six-pitch battle, struck out the leadoff man. The pitch he threw with confidence to the next batter—

Crack!

—was a two-seamer that ran in well, yet still got squared up. It snuck between second and short for a single.

An hit that made the absence of Park Ji-han and An Sung-woo painfully obvious. If either of them had been out there, it would have been an out for sure.

One out, runner on first.

"Out!"

The three-hole's aggressive swing produced a line drive that luckily found a glove for the second out. Through it all I just stood there, listening to the surround-sound of a little kid's boos.

"Boooo~"

And then—

The Swallows' cleanup hitter.

Kim Jae-sang.

The catcher they called the pride of the Swallows stepped into the box.