The Returned Catcher Wants to Win the Championship
With his career record of two hundred wins still standing, the legend of Song Gol-mae was alive and well.
A player for twenty years with the Daejeon Magpies, he had coached as the pitching coach until last year. Now he was a full-time commentator.
“What brings you here?”
“I came to eat meat.”
“By yourself? Here?”
“Yes! That’s right.”
“Hmm! Then let’s eat together. I was planning to come anyway, but something came up at the last minute. Looks like I’ll be eating alone. Having company is nice.”
“Ah… yes. Understood.”
Choi Seungtaek felt a bit surprised but followed Song Gol-mae, the commentator, to the reserved room.
The interior was Korean traditional style, and the table matched the atmosphere perfectly.
“Wow… the feeling when I first came inside was already good, but this place is really something.”
“How did you even find this place?”
“Just… just… I came in looking for meat anywhere. Haha…”
Choi Seungtaek struggled to answer and simply trailed off.
“Hmm? This is an expensive place. You might have spent a fortune.”
“Ah! You’re treating me?”
“Of course. What do you think I am?”
“No! Thank you.”
Song Gol-mae’s face hardened for a moment at Choi Seungtaek’s words.
“Stop standing there like an idiot and sit down.”
“Yes.”
Choi Seungtaek immediately sat and poured water for Song Gol-mae.
“Don’t take this place too seriously.”
“Understood.”
“I’m a commentator now, so I don’t know the team’s recent information. Let’s share what we know and enjoy the meat together.”
“Understood!”
“Heh.”
Choi Seungtaek had similar experiences during his Seagul days, though not with the first team—back when he was the starting catcher for the second team and the conversations were about the prospects.
Players gave commentators the details they needed for their broadcasts. Commentators gave players their own insights and things worth talking about on air.
That was how they traded information to help each other perform better.
Song Gol-mae’s meat stopped.
The employee entered with a tray.
“Excuse me. Which meat would you like to start with?”
“Hmm… since I’ll be eating with a young junior, give me the best. First, please bring the brisket.”
“Huh!”
Thanks to Song Gol-mae’s legendary status, Choi Seungtaek got to enjoy some of the finest meat he had ever tasted.
“Ah! And I need a drink too.”
Song Gol-mae smiled kindly, but Choi Seungtaek’s face turned serious.
“Ah… I don’t drink, senior.”
“What? You don’t drink?”
“Yes. I… I manage my body strictly, so I avoid anything bad for it. That’s why I came here too.”
Song Gol-mae looked surprised.
“Wow… so you young guys are already this thorough these days? Or did Manager Han Geunseong order it?”
“No, that wasn’t from the manager. I just live like this. From the beginning I manage my diet to become the best.”
“Hmm? Really? Impressive.”
At that moment the staff opened the door and brought more items.
“Wow! Fast. Already?”
“Impressive.”
The staff brought high-quality meat and placed the grill beside their table. They started roasting the meat right there.
“Ho… expensive meat.”
“I’ll cook it quickly for you.”
They lit the small fire on the table and placed a small cast-iron plate on top.
“I’ll set the finished pieces here. There’s also a small fire below, so the temperature stays steady.”
As expected from a high-end Hanwoo place, the staff grilled the meat personally. When it was perfectly cooked, they scooped it onto the small plate in front of Choi Seungtaek and Song Gol-mae.
“Wow… perfectly done. Thank you, senior. I’ll enjoy it a lot.”
“Mmm~ Yeah. Let’s eat.”
Choi Seungtaek enjoyed an excellent meal.
***
“So, about today’s camouflage starter…”
After the food had settled and his stomach felt full, the real conversation began.
Song Gol-mae had been curious the entire time he was commentating, so he asked first.
“It wasn’t a deliberate camouflage. Senior Oh Myeongwol hurt his lower back during practice this afternoon.”
“Really? Myeongwol is one of the few who still throws well… but still not enough.”
Song Gol-mae nodded, though something still felt off.
“Did you think Manager Han Geunseong ordered it on purpose?”
“I assumed so.”
“He does quick hooks often, but this was because of an injury. It wasn’t camouflage.”
Choi Seungtaek spoke firmly, and Song Gol-mae nodded again.
Having the starting catcher’s confirmation was helpful.
Choi Seungtaek had questions of his own.
“I have something I’m curious about too.”
“Hmm! Ask anything.”
“In a situation where there’s no answer at all during a game, how do I tell the pitcher?”
“Hmm…”
Song Gol-mae thought for a moment.
“Ki Youngbae today?”
“Ah… yes.”
Song Gol-mae quickly figured it out, and Choi Seungtaek confirmed.
“You know baseball is about the pitcher’s game, right?”
“Yes.”
“In that case the catcher, you, has to care for the pitchers however he can. So you need to know every pitcher on the first team and the prospects in the second team too.”
“I’m trying.”
“In the end, the key is the catcher has to make sure every pitcher reaches his best condition.”
It was basic, but it cleared some of the frustration.
“But you did everything, and nothing worked. So… the pitcher isn’t even qualified to be in the first team.”
Song Gol-mae’s eyes sharpened.
“That’s my suspicion.”
“What exactly?”
“I think Ki Youngbae is still injured.”
“What?”
Choi Seungtaek was surprised by the unexpected answer.
He recalled the last information he had on Ki Youngbae.
“There was no mention of injury in the notes?”
His skills had declined, but the System had shown no injury.
“Could it be I missed something only the System can see?”
The System assists.
Choi Seungtaek felt doubt. No, more precisely, he needed to reconsider the extent of the System’s assistance.
“The recent analysis is much more detailed, but this is a different matter.”
He still wouldn’t fully trust Song Gol-mae, but if the pitcher was hiding an injury and his performance had dropped, it made sense.
“Hiding injuries and signing with FA is fairly common… plus, if he were lying down you’d notice. Why didn’t I think of it right away?”
“He throws, so it’s not the shoulder. But he keeps rubbing his arm. I think something’s wrong with his elbow.”
“Elbow?”
“Yeah. He’s tough enough to hide it and keep throwing. The pitching coach or manager probably knows or suspects.”
Choi Seungtaek tilted his head.
“In that case there’s nothing I can do. That’s for the pitcher to decide himself. You’ve already done your part. You even got one runner out today.”
“Haha… no. So what does a pitcher do when there’s an injury like that?”
“Hmm… if he can recover without surgery, that’s best. Tommy John surgery is bad; it ruins the arm.”
“I see.”
“If he can’t recover without surgery, he needs it as soon as possible. The longer the arm is damaged, the worse it gets.”
Song Gol-mae’s tone was cold.
“When he was with the Daegu Eagles he was throwing in the mid-140s. Now he’s down to early 140s. After surgery he might throw in the low 130s. His career would be over. For his own sake and the team’s, he needs to get the surgery soon and return to his best condition.”
“That makes sense.”
Choi Seungtaek felt some of the day’s frustration lift.
“It’s clearly a veteran with a lot of experience. Thank you, senior. Wait a second… then there’s one more question.”
“Ask.”
“About… another thing I’m worried about: Senior Song Geumho.”
“Ah! Geumho?”
Song Gol-mae nodded as if he understood.
“Yes. His velocity and command are fine, but he keeps getting hit with fastballs.”
“What do you think is the problem?”
Choi Seungtaek thought deeply.
“The only thing I can guess is that fastballs are too good for hitters—too straight and weak in movement.”
“Same here. It looks straight on TV. Too honest.”
“Straight?”
“Players like Russell, the current first starter, throw fastballs that have slight movement by the time they reach the batter. But Geumho has none. Since his fastball is strong but completely straight, it’s too easy to hit.”
That explained what had happened to Song Geumho.
“The problem is…”
“How to fix it?”
Song Gol-mae cut straight to the question.
“Yes.”
“So don’t throw fastballs at all?”
“What? That doesn’t make sense…”
The fundamentals of pitching are fastballs.
Yet here was Choi Seungtaek being told not to throw them. It felt strange.
“So you mean to mix in breaking balls?”
“Similar, but not the same. I mean you don’t have to throw a fastball every time.”
“Ah!”
“Not wrong. There are pitchers in the majors who never throw fastballs.”
“So teach him sinkers or cutters. Mix them well and hitters will be in hell.”
Of course, that meant learning two new grips.
“What if Senior Geumho can’t learn anything?”
“Then he should quit baseball.”
“Huh.”
Choi Seungtaek was stunned by the firm answer.
“He’s a fairly experienced pitcher. If he knows the problem, he’ll fight to stay in the first team. If he practices like he’s grabbing at straws, he’ll pick up something.”
Choi Seungtaek felt his head clear with each answer he received.
“Then, senior…”
“What now?”
Song Gol-mae sounded annoyed, but Choi Seungtaek’s eyes were warm.
Because of the young catcher from the distant past who had shown such potential, the legendary Song Gol-mae finally stopped eating meat and gave every answer he had.