Buff or Nerf? (2)
Kang Min-hyuk believed that beating around the bush or testing the waters was for cowards. He knew this about himself well enough, which was why he chose a head-on confrontation in most situations.
And so, after hearing out Lee Ye-eun's request, the method he chose was likewise a frontal assault.
"I heard the situation from Ye-eun. Congratulations."
"...Oh? Thanks."
Kim Yi-seon seemed far more docile than usual.
Had this been the Kim Yi-seon of ordinary days, the moment he heard that Ye-eun had come to him, he'd have fired back with something snide like, 'Shouldn't you be fussing over your own girlfriend instead? Why come to me?' But now, without so much as a twitch, he let it slide smoothly.
It wasn't just Kim Yi-seon, either—any normal person could feel uncomfortable when someone pried into personal matters they hadn't brought up themselves, so this clean reaction was more than a little unusual.
This is worse than I thought. Which made Kang Min-hyuk all the more ready to throw his hardest fastball.
"I understand having complicated feelings about your first child. But look at you, completely deflated like this—and keeping it hidden from everyone around you. None of it is like you, Kim Yi-seon."
By any reasonable measure, that was the kind of remark guaranteed to earn either an outburst or a snappish 'and what exactly is so like me, then?' He was deliberately provoking the man, all but throwing a slide tackle at his mood, and yet—
"I already told my mother-in-law. Ah, not your mother—I mean Ye-eun's mother."
Kim Yi-seon answered with perfect composure, as if it were nothing at all. The usual Yi-seon would have thrown a half-joking, half-genuinely-annoyed fit right about now, but instead he was remarkably calm.
At that point, Kang Min-hyuk found himself at a loss for words. And faced with this unbelievable situation, nonsense slipped out of him before he could stop it.
"Be honest with me, Kim Yi-seon. Do you have some terminal illness or something?"
There was that old saying, after all—when a person changes overnight, it means their days are numbered. If it wasn't that, there was no way this guy could have changed like this.
When Kang Min-hyuk asked the absurd question, Kim Yi-seon tilted his head slightly, checked his face, and let out a light sigh.
"Who put you up to this? Ye-eun?"
He really did change overnight, or he's dying. There's no way this guy would read a room like that.
Behind Kang Min-hyuk's stunned disbelief, Kim Yi-seon spoke slowly and deliberately.
"You—imagine finding out you're going to have your first child. How do you think you'd feel?"
"Well, wouldn't it be a happy thing? My wife and I agreed to put off having kids for a while, so I have no plans yet... but if it happened, I'm confident I'd be happier than anyone."
"Yeah, it is happy. I'm happy, but..."
Kim Yi-seon paused, catching his breath as if choosing his words carefully.
"As happy as I am, honestly? I'm terrified."
And the sight of Kim Yi-seon carefully drawing out what he'd kept buried in his heart was new—yet somehow not new at all.
How to put it... if Kang Min-hyuk searched his memories for a Kim Yi-seon who'd looked like this, the closest he could recall was that period when he'd had a huge lovers' spat with Lee Ye-eun over the training-camp issue. Would doubling the fear from back then look something like this?
"What exactly scares you so much?"
At this point, Kang Min-hyuk didn't even feel like joking around. He simply waited for his friend's answer, serious and still.
"Everything. I know things like that almost never happen these days, but what if something happens to Ye-eun? What if my baby isn't born healthy? Pregnancy is hard enough on her, and my being at her side is going to be difficult. What if—what if I'm not even there when her labor starts?"
The kind of story that leaves your breath catching every time you hear it. He seemed like the type to drift through life without a thought in his head, but he was, after all, a man who cherished his woman fiercely.
Just hearing all this made Kang Min-hyuk quietly anxious about the day he might become a father himself. So he was carrying worries this heavy, huh. He was holding his tongue at that thought when the rest came spilling out in an even more drained voice.
"But you know what's scarier than all of that? Even if everything goes well and the baby's born healthy... I'm not confident I can actually pull off being a dad."
"That's..."
The moment Kang Min-hyuk heard it, every version of Kim Yi-seon he'd ever known flashed through his mind.
Uh... um...
"They say being a friend-like dad is in fashion these days, right? That wouldn't be so bad..."
"You don't have to dress it up for me. I know."
Only now did Kang Min-hyuk understand, crystal clear, why Kim Yi-seon had changed one hundred and eighty degrees from his usual self.
"I'm... plenty old, sure, but I've only lived that much on the surface—my head hasn't changed one bit since I was a brat. I'm oblivious as hell, and whenever I try hard at something to make up for it, I mostly just end up souring the mood. Take away baseball and I can't do a single thing right. I'm reckless for no reason and I just act however I want."
Any other time, Kang Min-hyuk would have given him an earful—you knew all this about yourself and you still acted like that?—but the mood was far too heavy, so all he could do was listen quietly.
"Can a guy like this do right by one child as their father? No, wait. With Seo-hee-noona and Min-ah in the picture too, can I really handle being a father to multiple kids?"
Kim Yi-seon's eyes were buried under layers of anguish and fear.
"Uh... you'll do fine. Yeah. You've always pulled off the things that seemed impossible."
Having seen those eyes, there was nothing else he could offer beyond that clumsy comfort.
But then again, this was Kim Yi-seon. Sure, he was always doing absurd things or setting ridiculous goals, but hadn't he nailed every single one of them?
"Right. Until now, there's been nothing I couldn't do. I'd like that to keep being true."
But watching Kim Yi-seon somehow grow even more listless, Kang Min-hyuk decided further conversation would do no good and bolted from the spot.
No matter how he turned it over, this was not something one man could handle alone. He needed other people's help.
The people Kang Min-hyuk ran to for help were, naturally, the team's veteran players.
More precisely, the veteran dads—men who had built homes and raised children of their own.
Led by Kang Hyun-seok, this gathering of player-fathers listened to Kang Min-hyuk's account with grave faces.
"Ah, so that's why my wife asked me to dig up the old storybooks the kids read when they were little—said she needed to send them to her sister-in-law."
"This is a genuinely serious situation."
"Honestly, what is there to worry about? Since when was being a dad such a grand role that it deserves this much agonizing?"
"Says the guy who got drunk and sobbed his eyes out last month because his son felt awkward around him. Spare me the bravado."
"..."
Apparently everyone had plenty to say on the subject, because the moment Kang Min-hyuk finished, the room erupted into noisy chatter.
Still, the man with the most experience on this topic—who happened to also be the team captain—spoke up first: Lee Hae-ryong, thirty-six years old, father of one son and two daughters.
"It really is a hard thing... but at the end of the day, you've got to overcome it yourself. So what if you're scared? The kid's already on the way."
It sounded spectacularly irresponsible, yet it carried a strange conviction. He'd offered up the truly brainless solution of just throw yourself at it and you'll find it's no big deal.
"Min-hyuk, you listen up too, since you're planning to tie the knot once this season ends. Sure, a father is the pillar of a household, the one who holds everyone up... but there's no need to flog yourself into being perfect."
Lee Hae-ryong spoke from experience—he'd suddenly become a father to his first child with zero preparation. And since he'd once even been named Best Father in an award picked by the local press, his words sounded unexpectedly persuasive.
"That's right. Kids raise themselves, you know? There's that saying—that eighty percent of what raised me was the wind."
"Hyung-nim. That's not what that saying means."
"It isn't?"
And with that, Kang Hyun-seok chimed in with his supporting fire. But his was a household where his wife had suffered through propping up a man who remained this clueless well into middle age, so he didn't seem like much of a mentor.
Even now, the other players were giving him looks that plainly said, And you're the one saying this? There was a reason the phrase 'spend your life thanking your sister-in-law' circulated among the players.
Ahem, ahem. Kang Hyun-seok cleared his throat. The conclusion remained the same either way.
"So don't put too much weight on your shoulders. I get it, but looking back, it's all wasted effort anyway—if anything, all that agonizing is the bigger minus."
"Right. Back when I was a rookie and my first kid was born, I told myself I had to make it as a player to provide for the family and threw myself into nothing but baseball—nearly ended up fighting with my wife over it."
"Exactly. Our Yi-seon's got plenty of money and his starting job is guaranteed, so that's not his worry. If anything, he's the type who'd neglect his actual job by fussing too much over home."
Listening to all this, Kang Min-hyuk found himself nodding along—it rang true. He even thought it was decent advice for himself, a potential father-to-be.
Except there was one problem.
"But I'm not sure those words would actually land with Kim Yi-seon right now."
That guy was stubborn as a mule—once his mind tipped over, nothing could persuade him. Even if these seniors went to him directly with all this, he wouldn't properly hear a word of it.
And they couldn't just leave him alone until he learned it by crashing headfirst into the wall—the kid's state was serious. He'd been odd during their talk, sure, but just now, in the middle of practice no less, he'd actually called Bang Min-soo 'Min-soo hyung' and complimented his sign delivery.
Kang Min-hyuk was confident he wouldn't even flinch if someone told him the Earth was about to end. The other players had only been around him half a year or so, and were still gradually piecing together what kind of human being Kim Yi-seon was—which made the dilemma all the thornier.
And then, at that very moment, an opinion arrived from the most unexpected quarter.
"Hmm. So the little friend has reached the age of such worries, has he?"
"Paulo?"
How long had he been listening? Paulo appeared alongside the team interpreter.
Seeing Paulo's unusually serious face, everyone turned their full attention to him.
"I went through that period myself. After all, I had to provide for not one wife, but three. Could a baseball player truly be there for his family? Could I become a good father to my children?"
"So that means you solved those worries too, Paulo?"
"Of course. I couldn't banish them entirely... but there is a good way to find just a bit of confidence."
A chorus of admiring oooohs from the married men. Paulo quickly continued, and the interpreter, evidently thinking it a solid idea, translated just as fast.
"Oh. That actually does sound like a decent idea... Hey, why are you all looking at me?"
Though admittedly, the gazes did cluster mostly on Kang Hyun-seok.
A baseball player's days never change. You train to prepare for games, you tune your condition for games, you play the games. Then you repeat it all, day after day.
In my past life, the KBO played fewer games and gave us one gameless rest day a week, so it was somewhat bearable. This time around, the schedule is far more packed than my previous life ever was—and thanks to the pandemic, there isn't a single rest day, leaving no room to even catch a breath.
Thanks to locking down a spot in the starting rotation, I only take the mound once every five days, sure... but when a road start is announced, I have to leave home days in advance and be apart from my family. That puts me only slightly better off than the position players—as a job for a family man, this one still ranks pretty poorly.
I'd never seriously dwelled on that fact before.
But now that the knowledge that Haet-nim is growing inside Ye-eun has been hammered into my skull, every single road trip leaves me deeply unsettled.
Is baseball really the right thing to be doing? Do I still want to play it? Absolutely—I'm satisfied enough that it almost stings I can't hear the crowds cheering with the pandemic on.
But is it important enough to outweigh the happiness of my woman and my children?
And while I was mulling that over, Kang Hyun-seok-hyung came running up beside me.
"Hey there, rascal!"
Hyung-nim, huffing and puffing. He's usually so sly and brimming with composure that I honestly couldn't guess what on earth had him in such a state.
After pausing to catch his breath, what does he come out with?
"You heard we're going back to empty-stadium games soon, right?"
"Yes, sir. They're raising the distancing level again, I heard."
By the tail end of the interleague series, attendance had been allowed up to fifty percent of stadium capacity, but with coronavirus cases creeping back up, word was slowly spreading that we'd be returning to games without fans.
If my past-life memories held, the distancing rules would indeed tighten again.
As I mulled that over, Hyung-nim said, with a grave face as though imparting matters of great import:
"So it seems the players' wives' association has decided to hold a group game-watching day, and this is the chance for it."
"I'm sorry, what?"
That was news to me. If something like that had been planned, Ye-eun would absolutely have mentioned it.
"Your wife needs plenty of rest right now, doesn't she? Of course she wouldn't have brought it up."
Fair point. The doctor had certainly warned us to be careful during the early stages of pregnancy.
"Anyway, our household's coming, and so are Hae-ryong's and Joo-seon's families—they're bringing every single kid along to the ballpark."
I roughly understood what was happening. A day for the players' families to gather—especially the children—right? Though I couldn't quite see why that warranted sprinting over in a fluster.
When I asked the question with my eyes, Hyun-seok-hyung scratched the back of his head, looking a little sheepish.
"Well, you see... the thing is, the day everyone's coming just happens to be your start?"
"I'll have to bring my best, then. You seniors have reputations to keep in front of your kids—we're winning that game no matter what."
"No, that matters too, but... look, it's like this. My daughter, and Hae-ryong's boys over there, and Joo-seon's daughter—they all, for some reason, like you more than their own fathers."
Ah. So that's what this is about.
I caught instantly what Hyung-nim was actually asking for. Not pitching—it's fan service.
"Huh? Come to think of it, we were supposed to go to a theme park last time, but the situation made it impossible. She's been sulking up a storm lately and barely talks to me, so help me out with her this time, would you?"
A truly pitiable family man. Seeing this only reinforced my thought that for the sake of my own emotional bond with Haet-nim, maybe tossing professional baseball aside was the wisest course after all.
But I set those personal musings aside. If Hyung-nim had sprinted all the way here to bring something up with me specifically, it was clearly a matter dear to his heart—and he was Kang Hyun-seok-hyung, who'd done so much for me. I couldn't just brush it off.
Even setting that aside, no teammate worth the name would refuse this much.
"Understood. So I just stop by before the game and spend a little time with them?"
"Ah, that'd be plenty. And if you could, walk around with me a bit—help a dad save some face in front of his kid, maybe prep a photo or an autographed ball."
"I'll do it."
"Ha! That's the makings of a superstar, right there. Our rascal, one of a kind."
With that theatrical gesture of gratitude, Kang Hyun-seok-hyung then sprinted off toward Kang Min-hyuk.
No prizes for guessing he was off to deliver more or less the same pitch over there.
"Everybody out. I'd say that went well."
"Glad to hear it, sir."
With Kang Min-hyuk at their head, the veteran married men materialized from wherever they'd been holing up. Their stealth skills were considerable—as expected of men who'd earned their tenure on the team through no small service.
In any case, if the messenger had laid the groundwork properly, the next phase of the operation should proceed smoothly. They turned to Paulo, the mastermind behind this whole plan, and said:
"I never would've thought of that myself. Paulo, you really are sharp, aren't you?"
"What he said. From where I stand, if Paulo had come from money, he'd have gone to university and ended up a professor."
"Haha, my friends. In life, the best lessons come not from those better than you, but from those worse."
There was a certain wisdom glowing in Paulo's smile. The married men grinned warmly back at him, nodding along.
The whole affair, at its root, came down to this: Kim Yi-seon was deeply anxious at the thought of a man like himself becoming a father.
But the married men knew better. Even if a baseball career meant less time with the family, even if a man was a little impulsive and childish at heart—so long as he truly loved and cherished his family, he could live happily with them, no question.
Of... course, there were occasional creaks in the machinery—like Kang Hyun-seok, who'd once been told by his own daughter to please stop doing the laundry in his underwear and suffered genuine shock from it—but regardless.
The point was that plenty of players, far more childish than their image suggested, lived by something close to a weekend-marriage schedule thanks to their profession, and still got along wonderfully with their children.
Paulo's own story was much the same. Back when he'd first chased the pro dream as a minor leaguer, he'd seen grown men so clueless you'd wonder if adulthood had skipped them entirely—and yet those same dads lived happily with their kids.
If men like that could make it work, didn't a man of Paulo's caliber have every qualification to be an excellent father? That was the realization that gave him his confidence back—and he'd lived well with his family ever since.
From that inspiration, the operation received its codename: 'Better Than You, At Least.'
Kang Hyun-seok and the corps of married men were convinced: this much would surely be enough for Kim Yi-seon to find his confidence again.