The Returned Catcher Wants to Win the Championship
The soft, rolling chuckle of laughter filled the air as Choi Seungtaek delivered his final, razor-sharp remark.
“Hahaha… Go on, Ganggyeong-ah. Show us how well you can hit.”
Lee Gun-taek let out a small, genuine laugh beside him.
“Then what about me?”
Gwan Yonggwon asked directly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
Here’s my opening.
Seungtaek immediately straightened his posture, flashing a confident smirk.
“What did I say earlier?”
“Well… you mentioned there’s no data to analyze?”
“Exactly. That’s right.”
Seungtaek nodded firmly, and Gwan Yonggwon’s expression turned noticeably sour.
“What the older guys need right now isn’t data—it’s special batting practice. First, you have to put the ball in play before any numbers can pile up.”
“Then what about you?”
Kim Haeja, who had been listening quietly, chimed in.
As a major-league analyst, he had once declared that Seungtaek could easily bat a solid .300 in the Korean leagues. That single statement had left the surrounding seniors burning with curiosity about how the newcomer would respond.
“So, how about you?”
“Your style is pretty different, right?”
Now! This is the perfect moment to slip away.
Seungtaek felt his instincts scream the signal. Everyone envied the spotlight, but fame inevitably bred jealousy. Just yesterday, Baseball Together had spotlighted him, pushing his name to new heights. Now he had to escape before that same attention turned into envy.
No matter how you phrase it, jealousy always finds a way in. But what if I use a different approach?
“Difficult to answer?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m actually right in the middle of special batting practice right now, so I can’t swing at all.”
“Special batting practice?”
A few of the seniors tilted their heads in genuine confusion at the sudden, almost absurd reply.
Seungtaek let out a theatrical sigh, eyes rolling.
“Do you not understand what I’m saying? What did I say earlier?”
“Ah! Hahahaha!”
“Oh! Now I get it!”
Both Hwang Ganggyeong and Tae Pyung-yang burst out laughing, finally catching on.
“No, Senior Gwan is batting seventh. Ganggyeong-hyung is ninth. I’m batting eighth, right in the middle. How is that any different? I’m also right around the low .200s—same as you guys.”
“That makes sense.”
The tension in the dugout melted instantly into easy laughter.
“Are you seniors really mocking us by saying we can’t hit .300? You sounded like you knew exactly what we were talking about.”
“No, it’s not mocking. I was genuinely curious.”
Kim Haeja chuckled softly and clapped Seungtaek on the shoulder.
“Understood. Well, I’ll head out then.”
“Where to?”
“To special batting practice. I should’ve been doing this all along, but the seniors got in the way. You guys are stopping me from hitting .300, aren’t you?”
“Haha~ No, no, go on. Go!”
Seungtaek slipped out of the group with a wave, leaving the seniors behind.
* * *
“Whew… Good. Got away just in time.”
Seungtaek reached the dedicated special batting-practice cage and exhaled deeply.
“Hey, Major Leaguer (real one) Choi Seungtaek!”
“Hah—!”
The batting coach had heard the rumor and immediately zeroed in.
Luckily, the coach wasn’t overly invested in the teasing.
“I told you, I’d break your swing, didn’t I?”
The coach flashed a massive grin.
“Man, if I’d actually touched your form, I would’ve felt terrible. A major-league power-analysis coach swinging that clean?”
“Then what? My average is still stuck in the low .200s.”
“Major-league power analyst? You’re just batting .300. And among all the catchers, you hit the best. No worries.”
Seungtaek flashed a sly, knowing smile.
Yeah, right.
Data doesn’t lie.
Seungtaek knew exactly two catchers who were actually crushing .300 right now: one on the Busan Seagulls, the other on the Daegu Eagles.
Both from Gyeongsang teams, huh?
“I’m the best hitter? Yesterday the Daegu Eagles’ catcher was laughing with me about it.”
Beball Lee.
The American-Korean mixed player batting eighth for the Eagles posted a .302 average. His yesterday’s dip hadn’t pushed him below .300.
“Um… you mean Beball? Sorry.”
The batting coach immediately looked uncomfortable.
“No, I just want to hit well, but I’m always off-target. I feel a little pressured.”
Seungtaek laid his honest thoughts bare.
“I know the answer. Just keep doing what you’ve always done. That’s it.”
“Keep doing what I’ve always done… Yeah, that’s right.”
The batting coach’s words landed like truth itself.
Maintaining what you’ve always done. Seungtaek knew that feeling well.
The players who stuck to their routines eventually built real skill and survived. That core habit—sticking to what you know—was what separated the survivors.
“Hold on, let me check your muscles.”
The coach ran a hand over Seungtaek’s arms and shoulders.
“I heard you lost some weight. You don’t look that bad, though.”
“I’ve gained a little back.”
“That’s good. Very good. Just the right amount of muscle.”
Seungtaek felt a genuine lift in his chest.
“You’ve built muscle more steadily than any player in MacPayes. Solid power with a lighter frame.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“It is. Manager Han loves that exact body type on you. Of course, you might want a touch more weight and another round of muscle gains, but…”
Haha… That guy has no idea.
“The training load you’re getting might make you feel like progress is slow. But you’re growing well overall.”
Training load is light…
Seungtaek agreed.
“Once we have a reliable backup catcher, I’ll increase the volume.”
“Good call. Now, shall we start training?”
“Yes, Coach. Ready!”
Seungtaek stepped back into the cage.
* * *
From a distance, Manager Han Geunseong watched quietly as the young players discussed tactics. He reviewed the data Seungtaek had shared with Lee Gun-taek and Tae Pyung-yang.
…
The numbers matched Seungtaek’s words exactly.
Even more detailed than our own analysis team?
Han’s skin prickled. He had never expected a rookie to possess such precision.
How does he remember everything so clearly? Is there some natural memorization gift?
Han updated his file on Seungtaek again.
At first he hadn’t liked the kid. In spring camp he had seemed promising, but the way he kept swinging for the fences had been obvious. That impression had completely reversed.
Seungtaek had been checking the film diligently even after games—something no one else bothered with. That kind of dedication shouldn’t be possible from a rookie.
His analysis and memory are overwhelming, and he actually uses it on the field. I have no choice but to accept him fully now.
From now on… Seungtaek will…
Manager Han gave a quick signal. The head coach appeared at the dugout entrance.
“Yes, Manager?”
“Seungtaek will attend the next meeting.”
“A meeting?”
The head coach looked surprised. Meetings were usually reserved for veterans.
“Manager… it’s still too early to bring a rookie into meetings.”
“He’s the starting catcher. He’s heard enough in his seat.”
The head coach’s face twisted with discomfort.
Does the Manager even know the locker-room mood right now?
A handful of players already resented the favoritism. Everyone trained equally, so the only outlier was Seungtaek—missing training sessions. That resentment had spread after his one-time press-conference comment.
The head coach knew the senior staff had quietly heard the rumors but hadn’t reported them yet. If Seungtaek attended the meeting and skipped more practice, the issue would explode.
“Manager. Some players believe you’re giving special treatment to Seungtaek.”
“Special treatment…? Me? To Seungtaek?”
Han’s face went blank.
“He’s the only one skipping night training and arriving early for morning sessions.”
“…This is ridiculous.”
“Everyone deserves the same training. If he gets preferential treatment, we’ll lose in games.”
Han shot the head coach a glare.
“Double the training volume starting today.”
“Understood.”
Han fell silent for a moment.
“Preferential treatment…? No, that’s not it. You think he’s feeling left out because of less training?”
“Yes… probably.”
“He returns next week?”
“Yes.”
Han nodded.
“Good. Write up a special training program for Seungtaek timed to Jo Oosoo’s return. Focus on blocking and framing—100 reps, 1,000 reps, whatever it takes.”
“Understood.”
* * *
THWACK!
“Hoo…ah…”
“Nice. Solid work today.”
Seungtaek lowered his bat and stretched, relief flooding his shoulders. Then the System window materialized in front of him.
Mission registered.
Eh?
Mission: Endure the training.
Training content: ???
Reward: Increase in Blocking and Framing rank.
What is this now?
A chill ran down Seungtaek’s spine at the vague training mandate.