The Hellish Autumn Camp Grind
After the team meeting, the veterans who'd sat in on it went looking for Woo Jeong-geun first.
"Jeong-geun. The skipper's talking about ramping up the training across the board, right?"
Woo Jeong-geun had been in plenty of team meetings since his Incheon Cranes days, and he could already tell the mood in the room was ugly.
"That's right. And it isn't just volume. Intensity's going up with it."
"They're pushing it even higher from here?"
Woo Jeong-geun nodded.
"That's exactly what it means. We're all going to have to grab meals whenever we can find a gap."
"That's insane."
"And tomorrow the catchers are going to have it especially rough."
"Us?"
"Yes, hyung."
Park Gyeok-po let out a long, heavy sigh at that.
"Today's skill evals weren't messing around already. They're going even harder?"
"Yes. That's how it is."
Even the evaluations today had felt like they were going to shatter his knees. The idea that it was about to get worse was almost impossible to believe.
"And, uh… what's his name. That rookie catcher?"
"Choi Seungtaek?"
"Yeah. The skipper's planning to watch him extra close, so tell Seungtaek to keep his head on straight tomorrow. And make damn sure he knows it's going to be brutal."
"Alright. Got it."
After the evening meeting, Park Gyeok-po wandered the dorm looking for Choi Seungtaek.
"Park Gyeok-po, sir—who are you looking for?"
"Yeah, I'm looking for Choi Seungtaek. Where is he?"
"If you mean Seungtaek, he should be in room 502."
"Alright."
Park Gyeok-po went straight to 502 and knocked.
Knock, knock.
"Choi Seungtaek. You in there?"
Seungtaek had finished dinner and was washing up, settling in to rest, when he heard the voice outside. He scrambled to the door and pulled it open. He'd heard that voice today—he knew exactly who it was.
"Yes! Park Gyeok-po, sir. I'm here. What's going on?"
"Ah, it's nothing… no, actually, it is something. Tomorrow the skipper's going to personally oversee the catcher group's training."
Seungtaek's heart started hammering. Not excitement—fear, shrinking his chest in on itself.
"Ah… so the drills are going to get a little more dynamic."
"Yeah. You get the picture, right? The skipper's watching, so tomorrow don't let it show how hard it is. Just grind through it."
"Understood! I'd better get to sleep early tonight and recover."
"Good. If you got the gist, that's enough. And starting tomorrow, meals are whenever you can find time, apparently. So eat whenever you want."
"Yes! Got it."
A question nagged at Seungtaek. Even with the Busan Seagulls, no matter how brutal camp got, everyone still went to eat together at mealtime.
Why would they even restrict meal times?
Choi Seungtaek had yet to truly experience Manager Han Geunseong.
The next day arrived.
As advertised, Manager Han Geunseong took personal charge of the catcher group's training. Because the skipper wanted to watch with his own eyes, all six catchers—Seungtaek included—had gathered for blocking drills.
"Let's begin."
"Yes, sir! We'll start slow."
The drill began with the battery coach tossing balls to create blocking situations. It was essentially a light warm-up, and with a long rotation it didn't look like it would be too punishing. What mattered was staying consistent—smothering every ball cleanly.
Once again, Seungtaek stepped up first.
Hoo… the skipper's watching. I'm nervous.
Seungtaek locked in and dropped into his stance. The ball came in easy. He dropped it cleanly in front of his knees, then threw it back.
Thwack.
"Okay."
Thwack.
"Nice."
The catchers shouted to keep the energy up. The two second-team catchers and the developmental catcher rotated through next, and the veterans loosened up with some blocking of their own.
"Faster."
After about ten rotations, Manager Han ordered them to pick up the pace. They split into two groups—one under Han Geunseong, the other under the battery coach.
Seungtaek's group had one second-team catcher and one developmental catcher. The developmental player was a second-year; the second-team catcher was a third-year. But with Manager Han throwing the balls himself, they tensed up and started making mistakes.
"You two… you going to get your heads in this?"
"Sorry!"
"Sorry."
Uh… should I apologize too?
"Sorry."
"Not you. The other two. If you can't even do the basics, what are you going to do? You two are doing blocking drills during night training as well."
"Yes, sir!"
Han Geunseong was ice-cold.
"Send Gyeok-po and Kyungho over here. The rest of you keep working the basic blocking."
"Yes, sir."
Even as he threw to Seungtaek and the other two, Manager Han kept one eye on the catchers next door. Park Gyeok-po, the veteran, and Jung Kyungho, the starting catcher, were taking balls cleanly—that was why he wanted them on his side.
Once Park Gyeok-po and Jung Kyungho joined Seungtaek's group, Manager Han finally picked up a bat.
Whoa… what's he about to do… hoo…
"Alright. We start again."
Something in the air felt wrong. Seungtaek tensed.
Crack!
Han Geunseong swung the bat, and the ball came screaming toward Seungtaek. In that instant the ball looked strangely slow—the seams, the spin, turning in slow motion.
Holy shit. He put spin on it!
Manager Han's fungo was vicious. From here on he was hitting with a bat, so the velocity jumped—and he was putting spin on the ball besides. They were supposed to block that.
"Ugh—!"
Luckily Seungtaek read the direction of the spin, predicted the bounce, and twisted his body on a diagonal into the ball's path, dropping it in front of his knees again.
Look at this kid. He actually got that?
Han Geunseong didn't let it show, but he was genuinely surprised. He'd fed him a ball that any catcher short of a certain level would have let get away, and Seungtaek had blocked it clean. The only players who'd ever smothered a no-warning ball of that difficulty were Park Wangyu, now the Cranes' manager, and Choi Soojong of the Sparrows.
The moment the block succeeded, something astonishing appeared before Seungtaek's eyes.
Perfect Blocking — A Grade
Success.
Because he'd smothered a high-difficulty ball so cleanly, the text appeared—and when he checked, the training gauge toward B Grade blocking had climbed a little more than usual.
Aha! The harder the ball you take clean, the faster it goes up!
Based on yesterday's training, even drilling at that rate every day would have taken five years to reach B Grade. But factoring in how the gauge jumped when he succeeded on high-difficulty balls, three years should be plenty to get his blocking there.
Hoo… not bad. So the harder the training, the faster the skill climbs?
Crack!
"Hup!"
Crack!
"Aigoo!"
Han Geunseong started feeding Jung Kyungho and Park Gyeok-po the same high-difficulty balls. Neither of them managed the stable blocking Seungtaek had shown.
Hmm… this kid's useful. But was that luck, or skill?
Manager Han tested Seungtaek again.
Crack!
This time the ball itself was slow, but the spin would make it skitter the instant it kissed the dirt. Fail to seal off the bottom, and it would shoot straight through his legs. Once again Seungtaek saw the spin—the ball whirling, whirling—and he read it.
Pop!
He cut off the ball's line and took it into the mitt.
Hoo… he's really making these nasty.
The ball was so quick that for a split second even Seungtaek thought it had already gotten past him. His heart lurched.
"Kyungho, Gyeok-po—go back over there and keep training."
"Yes, sir!"
Huh? He's swapping people already? What's he trying to do this time?
They hadn't even blocked that many balls. The sudden halt left the two veteran catchers a little thrown, but they followed the skipper's orders.
With another personnel change, Seungtaek thought he'd steal a moment of rest—until Han Geunseong's next words told him something was very wrong.
"Choi Seungtaek… what are you doing? Get in your stance."
"Sir?"
Han Geunseong needed to see whether Seungtaek could sustain blocking at this level. That was why he'd sent the two veterans away—so he could work Seungtaek over exclusively.
Wait… this isn't right.
Seungtaek's breath caught in his throat.
He wants me to take those balls with no rotation? No rest?
But he couldn't exactly say he wouldn't do it. Seungtaek set himself again.
The cruel fungo began.
Ting!
Huh? Aaaaagh—
Thwack!
"Ugh!"
Ting!
Thump!
High-level balls kept coming at Seungtaek, and he met every one of them with every nerve he had. The problem was that this went on all morning—and then through the afternoon besides.
Past one o'clock, Seungtaek was soaked through with sweat. Past three, his whole body was spent. From his knees to his torso, there wasn't a place that didn't hurt.
"Hah… hah…"
Hours of nothing but blocking. Seungtaek had hit the wall of his stamina, but Han Geunseong showed no sign of stopping.
Thwack!
He saw the ball. His body was too heavy. Heavy—but it reacted on its own, cutting off a ball that would have gotten away. He could no longer drop them softly in front of his knees the way he had at the start, but he was still getting every block done, more or less.
The other catchers and the battery coach watched Seungtaek hold on for hours, equal parts pity and awe.
Thwack!
"Hup!"
Another ball came. Seungtaek blocked it.
"Hoo… hoo…"
Every stray thought had left his head. There was only blocking.
Crack!
And before he knew it, it was five in the afternoon. Only then did Han Geunseong stop the drill.
"Good… well done. Let's go eat."
From morning training straight through the afternoon, Seungtaek had blocked without a single break. He felt like he was going to die. His whole body ached. He didn't have the strength to walk. He made it to the cafeteria with Han Geunseong on nothing but willpower.
"For a rookie… you're good."
"Thank you."
"Choi Seungtaek, was it? What is baseball to you?"
The question came out of nowhere, but Seungtaek turned it over carefully. From elementary school to this moment, baseball was all he had ever done. Even after he'd been forced to walk away as a player, he'd stayed in the game. And now that he'd come back, he was playing again. This time, things had gone well enough that he could take care of his mother.
Even after that brutal session, the light in Seungtaek's eyes was still alive. Han Geunseong was satisfied.
"Alright. You worked hard today. More catcher drills tonight would be too much. After dinner, during night training, work on hitting."
Not a word about rest, I see.