Spilling the Seeds
Seungtaek blinked, then answered with a grin. “I don’t know. I’m in the second team for some reason. Didn’t the manager keep me out of the second team even after that bench-clearing incident?”
Song Geumho stood a little awkwardly, but Ki Youngbae accepted the greeting.
“Right, right! But he sent me down anyway. I guess he didn’t like seeing me lounging around when games were on. Haha.”
Seungtaek tossed in a playful jab, and Song Geumho stepped closer.
“Yeah, the manager wouldn’t have sent you down for something like that. So what’s the real reason you’re here? Ah, is it because of Antonio?”
Song Geumho’s tone stayed a bit gruff, but he guessed quickly.
“Well, kinda. The other pitchers are supposed to come too. Catchers feel things differently from the dugout, you know. I guess I’m the catcher the manager actually trusts. Who knew I’d be put to work like this. Haha.”
Of course, that’s a lie.
Seungtaek added the falsehood on purpose, aiming to plant the seed. Ki Youngbae seemed half-believing, half-shrugging it off, but Song Geumho wasn’t buying it.
Manager Han Geunseong ran the entire season around the starting catcher, so Seungtaek’s explanation landed more realistically than he expected.
“We’ve only been down here a short time. You sure you’ll be able to come back up?”
“Ah! That’s why I’m here.”
“What?”
“Actually, I went to a famous meat restaurant in Daejeon a while back. I ate with Song Golmae-sunbae.”
“Oh… really?”
Ki Youngbae looked a little surprised, but he agreed to hear the whole story.
“While we were eating, we chatted a bit…”
Seungtaek let the sentence trail off. Both Ki Youngbae and Song Geumho leaned in, suddenly eager.
“Chatted?”
“About the seniors. Both of you.”
“What?”
Song Geumho and Ki Youngbae perked up instantly.
“Song Golmae-sunbae is a commentator now, but he was still coaching here last year, right?”
“That’s right.”
“So what did he say?”
Song Geumho started poking Seungtaek with more pointed questions.
“He said both of you are disappointed. You came on FA contracts, and there are all sorts of problems showing up.”
“Mm… you think so?”
It was obvious, but hearing it directly left their faces a little sour.
“Yeah. And especially about you, Song Geumho-sunbae, he felt the same way I did?”
“What?”
“I knew something was wrong with me, but I couldn’t fix it. Song Golmae-sunbae pointed out a solution, though.”
Got him?
Seungtaek dangled the bait. The moment Song Golmae’s name was mentioned, Song Geumho started to sway.
“Hmph… so what did he say?”
“He said I should be scared to open my mouth because he was so harsh last time.”
Seungtaek’s playful tone made the situation awkward.
Geumho gritted his teeth. He knew himself best. He’d never missed a workout since arriving on FA, and his fastball still carried real velocity.
So when Seungtaek pointed out the flaw, Geumho had been furious. Hearing it from a rookie catcher who’d barely stepped foot in the majors? No one would have taken that quietly.
That was exactly why he’d snapped at Seungtaek and ignored the advice.
And now the problem had caught up with him.
Every time he threw his signature fastball, the batter was getting hits. The off-speed stuff was sharper but less reliable, so he was getting burned far more often by the straight stuff. Slowly, doubt started creeping in.
One or two hits could be luck. But the rate was climbing, and denial was no longer possible.
When asked, the batters had basically echoed what Seungtaek said: “I just couldn’t figure it out.”
They’d gone up to the majors after throwing 100-200 pitches a day in perfect condition, chasing a last-minute call-up.
The only thing waiting for them was the brutal truth: their fastball was getting hit.
There must be something wrong with me. I might never be able to play in the majors.
That thought had paralyzed him, so he’d spent every day in the second team turning the problem over and over in his mind.
“I’m sorry about that day. Watching you take hits on the field made me feel even worse. So tell me—how do I fix this and get out of this mess?”
Seungtaek’s words had clearly broken Song Geumho’s pride. The veteran finally spoke up.
“Honestly, right now your fastball is hittable. It’s fast, well-located, but the problem is it’s just too good. That’s the real issue.”
Geumho nodded.
“So what did Song Golmae-sunbae advise?”
“Don’t throw it.”
“What?”
That was the exact line Seungtaek had used before.
“Watch Antonio pitch. His stuff is nasty. He throws the same fastball, but it’s breaking weird at the end.”
Whoosh.
Pop!
Geumho had seen Antonio’s pitch too.
“It’s well-located, fast, good command, and that movement on a 150-plus fastball makes it impossible to hit. Catchers have a tough time framing it, but that’s not the point. Your fastball is too straight. Song Golmae-sunbae said to start throwing something else.”
Seungtaek kept his explanation measured. Geumho nodded again.
“He recommended cutters and two-seamers. Same pitch category, so just pick the one that clicks faster with your hands. Don’t stop throwing fastballs entirely—just add movement, even if it’s a little slower.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s all. I’ve never doubted your other tools. I just told you not to throw that fastball because it was coming up too sweet.”
Geumho’s mind was racing. He hadn’t tried these new grips yet, and adapting them in-season would take time.
“You’re telling me to reinvent my pitch selection in the middle of the season?”
“You don’t want to stay a pitcher who gets shelled every time he steps in the majors, do you? You know this isn’t just one season. Next year every team will know. Or already do, right?”
Seungtaek’s words sliced straight through.
“Time’s short. The sooner you start, the better.”
Geumho’s eyes twitched.
Whether the shake was from rage or the first spark of hope, Seungtaek couldn’t tell, but something had clearly shifted in his face.
“Then what about me?”
Ki Youngbae’s voice cut in. Seungtaek’s expression hardened.
Hoo…
Now came the part that would be a little brutal. Seungtaek forced himself to stay calm.
“For you, sunbae… well, it’s not great.”
At the same time, Seungtaek stepped closer and grabbed Ki Youngbae’s elbow.
“Ah!”
Ki Youngbae jerked visibly. Song Golmae’s warning had been spot-on.
“Song Golmae-sunbae said you’ve been hiding an elbow injury and throwing anyway. Elbow injuries come in all shapes, but when the pain is this bad, it’s usually worse than it looks. Is there bone damage?”
“Ugh…”
Ki Youngbae swallowed the rest.
“Song Golmae-sunbae’s words were: if you wait to have surgery while your velocity drops, you might never get it back.”
“Hoo… but this is…”
“You should get the surgery as soon as possible and come back faster.”
“Hoo…”
“Someone else said the same thing: if he couldn’t make it through one inning, he’d retire. Right now, sunbae… can you make it through one inning? With that pain?”
Seungtaek’s words were daggers. Ki Youngbae winced, and Geumho looked genuinely stunned by the bluntness.
“How’s that sound to you, Geumho-sunbae? Compared to Youngbae-sunbae, you’re in a better spot. You’ll do it, won’t you? Start your rehab drills right now?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Ugh…”
Both men looked crushed, trapped between pride and necessity.
They’ll make their own choice. But I planted the seed. If both of them come back and perform, it’ll help the bullpen when their arms hit the wall at the end of the season.
* * *
As the conversation wound down, the second-team director called Seungtaek over.
“Seungtaek, come here a sec.”
“Yes?”
“Haa… I talked to Antonio. He’s strangely asking for you instead of Woo-soo when he gets called up to the majors.”
“Jo Oosoo-sunbae?”
“Yeah. He sounds pretty stubborn about it.”
Ah… no way.
Seungtaek could guess the reason.
At first Russell had preferred Seungtaek, but once Jo Oosoo returned, Russell started favoring the veteran catcher behind the plate.
Foreign pitchers cared about current numbers. They needed to dominate with strikeout totals, not long-term efficiency. That was how they’d get another shot in the majors.
In that light, Seungtaek’s ground-ball and shift game was great for getting outs, but Jo Oosoo’s ability to induce strikeouts made him the clear favorite.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Sure.”
“Anyway, Jo Oosoo-sunbae is only going to pitch a game or two. If we win two in a row with the foreign guys, that helps the team, right?”
“True.”
The director’s mood improved noticeably at Seungtaek’s team-first reply.
Whoosh.
Pop!
“Antonio’s stuff is nasty.”
“You’re not killing him? We could just send him straight to the majors.”
“We’re killing him. His stuff is deadly.”
[Antonio: A-Grade Starting Pitcher]
[Velocity: A | Location: A | Command: A | Stamina: A]
[Pitches: Four-seam fastball, slider, curve – prefers four-seam fastball]
Damn… he’s in a league of his own.
Seungtaek stared in awe at Antonio’s numbers.