Pitcher Training?
Choi Seungtaek bit down hard on his teeth, the sharp pain grounding him as he stared at the scoreboard.
By the end of the first inning, the number had already climbed to six against the opposing side.
He swept his gaze around the stands, taking in the silent disappointment radiating from the Magpies fans.
They looked utterly deflated even before the first out.
Is this much of a gap that bad already?
Seungtaek told himself he had done everything within his power.
He had hunted for each batter’s weaknesses and pushed every angle, yet nothing worked.
And Song Chang-soo senior’s pitches weren’t bad, either.
They had grown a little loose under the tension, but Song Chang-soo was still a solid B-grade veteran by pro standards.
The veteran had clearly thrown where Seungtaek had asked.
This year’s champions… damn, they’re no joke. A lineup that strong through the sixth? That’s scary.
Seungtaek had never faced a batting order this relentless before.
Before he could finish the thought, the bullpen sent Park Hyeok up to the mound.
Park Hyeok: B+ grade middle reliever
Velocity: B+ | Control: B+ | Stamina: A | Endurance: B
Pitches: Four-seam fastball, slider, cutter, change-up
Special note: Control improves when following Seungtaek’s lead
Seungtaek took another deep breath and slid back into his crouch.
There was still plenty of inning left; he wasn’t about to quit now.
Come on… here we go.
Park Seung-yop: B+ grade batter
Hit form: B | Contact: B+ | Power: C+ | Awareness: B | Base-running: A
Special note: Knows Park Hyeok’s tendencies well
Even the bottom of the order is hitting .200, and they’ve got that note? What a pain.
Still, the good news was clear: the moment Park Hyeok stepped up, Seungtaek spotted the exact weakness he needed.
Yes… that’s the one.
The catcher’s eyes sharpened with renewed purpose.
Good. Now we play ball for real. The best team in the league? Fine. Just like against the Sparrows, we’ll come roaring back from down big.
The inside fastball burned in right where Seungtaek had set it up.
Park Hyeok nodded once and unleashed a fastball that screamed toward the heart of the plate.
Strike one!
This is it… the rhythm is coming back.
Perfect. Let’s see how well we can keep it going.
Seungtaek’s gaze locked with Park Hyeok’s, and the veteran fired another heater, this one even sharper.
Strike two!
Out!
Game over.
Damn… they really play baseball like it’s a religion.
Seungtaek stood on the field, expression blank, chewing the inside of his cheek as he watched the final out disappear.
He had felt the wall as a batter facing Kim Gwang-gyeon, but today the wall felt like an entire team stacked against him.
The same crushing pressure he had felt in high-school days against Bu-ma High was here again, in the big leagues.
Tonight as a hitter I went 5-for-14 with one single… pathetic.
Yet the comeback urge had burned bright, and the defeat only stoked the fire hotter.
The moment Han Geunseong pulled Park Hyeok, the game turned into pure war.
Even with a six-run lead, the Eagles kept feeding in their best relief arms.
Magpies hitters fought with everything they had, but the deficit proved impossible to bridge.
Seungtaek had answered with the same string of closers: Park Hyeok, Yoon Jeong-jin, Kwon Gyu-jin.
In the end the scoreboard read 9-3.
It had been a terrible pitching day, even for a day filled with rotation issues.
Of course, but using the empty fourth and fifth starters… yeah, that was rough.
He would have preferred starting with Song Chang-soo or putting Park Hyeok on the mound from the first out.
Han Geunseong’s call had been disappointing.
Still… they were ugly.
Seungtaek felt a genuine jolt of shock from the Eagles’ performance.
It wasn’t even about brilliant strategy; the sheer size difference was ridiculous.
Why do I look so blank?
Before he could answer himself, Park Hyeok walked over.
“Hey, senior! I’ve been thinking—how do you even plan to beat the Eagles?”
“Huh? Lost today and you’re already thinking about it?”
“Yeah. Your old team is scary good.”
Seungtaek’s jaw clenched, but Park Hyeok only grinned wider.
“My hometown team is strong, sure… that’s why I’m here.”
“So you’re here because you’re strong?”
“Exactly. Being on a powerhouse isn’t bad, but it gets boring. There are too many good pitchers and not enough chances for me.”
Wow… he’s honest.
“Toughen your mental game, Seungtaek. The Magpies are playing pretty well right now. If we keep this up with the current lineup, we can still make the playoffs.”
“You’re right. I’m trying to stay positive.”
“And you’re killing it, rookie. Hell, you could be the everyday starter. No one in your age group is doing better than you.”
“Thank you, senior.”
Park Hyeok gave Seungtaek’s shoulder a couple of friendly taps and headed toward the locker room.
Man… that wasn’t easy.
Seungtaek let out a quiet sigh and started unpacking his gear.
“Seungtaek-ah.”
As he stripped off his catcher’s mask and began organizing his equipment, Song Chang-soo approached.
Oh? What’s wrong with the senior now?
“Yeah, senior. What’s up?”
Song Chang-soo looked unusually downcast.
“Today in the first inning… my pitches weren’t great, right?”
Not great?
“No, senior’s stuff looked fine to me.”
“You think it was fine? If you got a hit off it, then I guess I just wasn’t good enough.”
What is this negativity?
Seungtaek knew Song Chang-soo was a fighter who had clawed his way back after years of being pounded in the minors, but the constant belt had left his confidence shaky.
“Hey, it’s just that today the other lineup was stacked. Daegu has won championships for years—how are we supposed to beat them?”
“So I’m just supposed to be the kind of pitcher who can’t face the Eagles, huh?”
“…Yeah, but the only starter we have left is Russell. If someone else had come up, the result probably would’ve been the same.”
“I see.”
“I’m at that level, then.”
Wait… this is serious. He’s spiraling hard.
Seungtaek’s usual bluntness returned.
“Come on, what’s all this talk? Did a fan yell at you? Should I call your manager?”
“No, it’s not that. Just… I don’t know.”
“Or maybe the internet roasted you? Hey, maybe the manager overused you a bit. If something’s bothering you, say it. I know a reporter who’d love to hear it.”
Song Chang-soo flinched as Seungtaek raised his voice, but the catcher kept going.
“No, it’s fine. I just feel a little low.”
“Then throw what you want. What’s the problem?”
Seungtaek answered firmly, but Song Chang-soo didn’t seem satisfied.
“Really…? Tough. I don’t know what to do. I got traded, I’m FA next year… I should be better, but…”
So what exactly does he want me to do?
“No. I got sent to the minors because I was useless? I tested here and got cut immediately, so now I’m stuck in Double-A again?”
Whoa… he’s this close to depression?
Seungtaek felt his head spin from the one-man pity party.
“So what do you think, Seungtaek-ah?”
He’s starting to grate on my nerves. Random whining like this is bad enough drunk; sober is worse. Too many thoughts.
Seungtaek was growing tired of the meaningless monologue.
With this many useless thoughts… Han Geunseong’s method is perfect.
In the end, you find the answer in hardship.
He trusted the veteran’s decision because Song Chang-soo had always gelled best with the manager.
“Ah! I think we should just ask Han Geunseong. He’s the one who knows these things best.”
“What? Ask the manager?”
“Yes!”
Seungtaek looked Song Chang-soo straight in the eye, full of trust.
“Are you sure? That feels like skipping a lot of steps. Maybe the pitching coach would be better.”
“I already asked him.”
“Uh… I see.”
“Exactly! Hahaha!”
Wait, he asked the coach and then came running to me? Just go die already. You’ll figure it out if you just roll around.
“So the quickest route is to the manager. Who created Beehive Bullpen Baseball? The guy who invented it, right?”
“Right.”
“And he’s a pitcher himself. A pitcher comes in with a problem and asks for advice? Just explain it to him. Trust me! Go ask him. It’s guaranteed to help.”
Seungtaek spoke in a dramatic, over-the-top voice.
“Okay… fine, I’ll go.”
Seungtaek’s strong conviction pulled Song Chang-soo along as they headed straight for the manager’s office.
Now that’s done. I’m not the one exhausted.
Seungtaek had just shoved Song Chang-soo into the fire.