Now I'm a Professional Player (2)
I found myself joining the finishing camp being held in Icheon.
Once the camp wrapped up, we'd have the off-season from December through January. I had no intention of rotting in my room the whole time, but first I needed to lock down a spot at spring training and get them to acknowledge what I could actually do.
This was the Seoul Dragons' minor-league stadium, and even accounting for that, the facilities were impressive. Whatever else you could say about this organization, they spent money — that much was undeniable.
"Hello, sirs!"
Three of us had been called up to this finishing camp: myself, first-rounder Baek Juseong, and second-rounder Park Yeongjin. Both of them were college graduates, which made them my seniors.
It wasn't that the team had no rookie hitters at all — our position-player corps was simply so stacked that we hadn't drafted anyone usable in the early-to-middle rounds.
Baek Juseong, Park Yeongjin, and I were given time to introduce ourselves to the first-team players.
"Alright. If you don't know something, just ask. Get settled in fast and give us a hand next year."
"Hey, who made you captain? Shouldn't I be the one answering first, seeing as I actually am the captain?"
"Then you should've been standing up front."
They didn't seem to have a bad relationship, at least.
The ones speaking were Gang Daeho, the team captain, and Kim Junsu, who was arguably the best hitter on the roster.
Gang Daeho had been the starting center fielder for over a decade, a career .300 hitter and the franchise's face. He'd held the number-one jersey sales ranking on the team for ten straight years without a single lapse.
Kim Junsu was the shortstop who'd joined two years ago on a four-year free-agent deal worth eight million dollars. Ever since his potential exploded five years back, he'd been regarded as the best shortstop in the league. He wasn't the absolute best at any one thing, but he had all five tools — a complete, well-rounded player. He was also famous for being a genuinely decent guy.
No matter how you looked at it, those two were the heart of this team.
They're also the ones who'll be backing me up during games.
Defense was defense, but I needed them putting runs on the board. Pretty stats mattered too.
"God, I'm dying."
"They're really gonna drain us on day one?"
We'd been sent out for a group run. The position players, who still had fungo practice waiting for them, got off a little lighter, but the pitchers were already gassed from the running alone.
From what I overheard, the workload had gone up compared to last year. The results hadn't been good, so the manager was apparently planning to grind everyone hard heading into next season.
Looking at the players themselves, though…
The two other rookies and I still had that awkward new-guy energy, but the overall atmosphere on the team wasn't bad. A hardcore Dragons fan might've said, You guys just got wrecked in the playoffs again and you're still laughing? — but for me, it was actually a relief. The veterans treated the younger guys without much formality, and I didn't see any real assholes in the mix.
Fewer things to worry about off the field was a win for me too.
"Hey. Lee Junseong, was it?"
"Yes, that's right, sunbae."
"I'm Kim Junhyeok. You know who I am?"
"How could I not?"
Kim Junhyeok, the pitching-group leader. An eighth-year franchise player for the Seoul Dragons. He'd broken into the first-team rotation relatively young, but he'd only cleared the qualifying-innings threshold in about half his seasons, and he'd posted an ERA in the threes exactly once — two years ago.
Unlike Gang Daeho, who had the absolute trust of the Dragons fanbase, Kim Junhyeok had a fair number of fans who couldn't stand him. His fan service was good, he'd never been in any scandals, and he had a clean-cut face — but collapsing in big moments was his specialty. The more hardcore the fan, the more they hated him; the more casual, the more they loved him. A strange kind of player.
"You looked kinda scrawny when I first saw you, but watching you run? Not bad. You been doing nothing but eating and running?"
I'd finished the run first, and I hadn't shown a hint of fatigue.
"I'm a third-rounder. If I can't even run, I'm not surviving."
"Haha. Humble, too."
The Dragons really did have a lot of nice guys. I was matching the vibe with a modest act of my own.
"Daeho-hyung's the captain, but I'm the pitching-group leader, so if you've got questions, come to me. This team's not really the type to go around telling people what to do."
An autonomous team culture. Which was another way of saying there wasn't a strong leader…
"Thank you."
"Yeah. We're short on lefties anyway, so hang in there."
Kim Junhyeok turned away. He wasn't a difficult person by nature, but that easygoing attitude was probably coming from the fact that nobody was threatening his rotation spot.
After the run, we got a short break. Then the pitching group went straight into weight training. The flexibility work was brutal, but I believed it would help, so I gritted my teeth and pushed through. For the strength training, I told the trainer I could handle a little extra and asked him to make the program harder.
The third day of training was over.
The camp's overall workload was high — that was a fact. But no matter how I looked at it, nobody was working harder than I was. Of course, that was thanks to the blessing jacking my stamina through the roof… even I was starting to wonder where my physical limit actually was.
So far, I was pretty satisfied with the finishing camp. The problem was…
"Junseong. You're not going out?"
"I'm fine. I'll just stay at the dorm."
Baek Juseong, my roommate and fellow draftee, had struck up a conversation.
"Tomorrow's a day off. You gotta go have some fun."
"I'm just more comfortable staying in the room…"
"Boring ass. Fine, I'm going by myself. Don't change your mind and text me late."
I'm not texting, so just get the hell out already.
Baek Juseong left the room.
The problem was this libido — the blessing I'd received from Babe Ruth, which still felt more like a curse. Even so, I didn't want my first time to be with prostitutes. And even if that weren't the issue, I had no intention of going.
A one-night stand with some empty-headed girl? Athletes had to be careful about getting baby-trapped. And even though I'd never had a girlfriend, I had fairly high standards.
Just hold out a little longer. Once finishing camp was over, I'd start looking for a reliable partner in December. Someone pretty, with a good body, plenty of understanding — and above all, a girl who wouldn't play hard to get and would put out without a lot of fuss.
A week had passed.
Except for the off days, it was the same cycle of running and weights for the pitchers. I didn't have any real complaints, but I was starting to want to throw a baseball.
"Starting today, the pitching group begins bullpen sessions."
Yes.
I cheered internally at the pitching coach's words. I loosened up and waited for my turn.
"Lee Junseong! You're in."
I walked into the bullpen with total confidence.
"Alright, let's see what a surprise third-round pick can actually do."
I threw a fastball for the first time in a while.
Whap!
"Ninety-two!"
The staffer next to the pitching coach called out the velocity.
"…Let's go four fastballs in a row."
"Yes, sir."
I threw four consecutive fastballs. They all punched into roughly the same spot. Had the velocity ticked up a little?
"Ninety-three!"
Guess not.
Apparently it wasn't time for my velocity to jump yet.
"I was told your command wasn't particularly good?"
How far back was this guy getting his intel…
I was starting to understand why the Dragons had a reputation for failing to develop prospects. Not that it applied to me.
"It came together all of a sudden at the end of my senior year."
"That's possible?"
"I can barely believe it myself. But from that point on, it just wasn't an issue."
"Even if your command isn't at this level yet, a fastball like yours will play just fine. Well, I'll be damned. A golden goose just rolled right into our lap."
He seemed like a decent guy, at least.
"I can throw a curveball too."
"Show me that later. Today's schedule is pretty tight. I should tell you this now — you can join spring training, right?"
"Of course!"
The words I'd been waiting for had just come out of the pitching coach's mouth.
"Good, good. Keep working hard. I'll put in a word with the manager, so don't worry. But you're six-two and you only weigh a hundred and eighty? We need to put some more weight on you."
"Haha. I'll do my best. Thank you."
I bowed with almost exaggerated politeness and left the bullpen. That had been resolved faster than I'd expected. All that was left was to make the most of the remaining camp.
The finishing camp in Icheon came to an end. Spring training, I was told, would be in Arizona. That would be my first time leaving the country.
Hell, I'd never even been to Jeju Island, and now my first flight was going to be to the United States. Of course, if I hadn't met the Baseball Immortal, I never would have set foot in America in my entire life. If anything, I was grateful.
My spot at spring training was locked in. I didn't know how the pitching coach and the manager were planning to use me yet, but all I had to do was show them something even better in the States.
The problem was that Christmas was only a month away, and that put me in a foul mood. Back when I'd first started high school, I'd sworn I'd spend my twentieth Christmas with a girl. Of course, once the decision to repeat a year had been made, I'd more or less given up on that resolution.
Still, my signing bonus had come in while I was at camp. I didn't have that much money I could actually spend, but considering that until recently I'd been a twenty-year-old high school senior with zero income, it was enough to make me emotional.
Alright. I had money now. Time to go out and enjoy myself a little.
But what was I supposed to wear? It wasn't cold enough to break out the long padded coat yet.
Fine. I didn't have any particularly fond memories attached to it, but graduation wasn't far off. I'd wear my school uniform as a little commemoration. I wasn't planning to drink, so nobody would get the wrong idea. And if you really thought about it, nothing looked better than a school uniform.
I put on the uniform and headed for the downtown strip.
"Thank you! Have a good evening."
I stepped out of the restaurant under the waiter's polite send-off. I'd been a little nervous, but given the times, nobody paid any attention to a guy wandering around by himself.
Alright. Where to eat next? They said the best places were off the beaten path, didn't they? I headed toward a quieter stretch of the downtown area.
Hm? Something about the atmosphere over there didn't sit right.
"I thought I knew you, that's all I'm asking. What's the problem?"
"I don't know you! You've got the wrong person, so leave."
"I'm just saying, let me get a closer look."
Outside a place that could have been a bar or a restaurant, a man was talking to a woman. Talking was generous — it was closer to a fight.
When I got a little closer, two things jumped out at me. The woman was extremely beautiful, and the man was dressed in a style I'd only ever seen on YouTube. The so-called tattooed-thug look. I never thought I'd see someone actually wearing that in real life. I guess even in Seoul, the bigger downtown strips really were a different world.
"I saw you come in with a friend earlier. We all know you came out here to pick up guys, so why are you playing so hard to get?"
"I'm not interested. Go away."
The woman wouldn't even look at him.
"Jesus, you've got no fucking manners. Look at a person's face when you talk."
This is starting to look dangerous.
The man had suddenly taken on a threatening posture. He looked like a genuine savage, and for a downtown area, there were far too few people around.
"Hey."
"Huh?"
The man answered, and both he and the woman looked at me at the same time. For all her defiant attitude, the woman was clearly scared.
"She said no. So leave. Why are you harassing someone who wants nothing to do with you?"
"The fuck? This high school punk lost his mind?"
The tattooed thug shoved me with his hand. He'd just gotten rejected and now he was putting on a show because there was a girl watching.
"Aaagh!"
I clamped my hand down hard on his shoulder. I was an athlete — I could have handled a punk like this even without the blessing. With it, it was even easier.
"Go home. Now."
I had no interest in tormenting him further. I pulled the tattooed thug away from the woman as I spoke.
"Ugh… fuck."
He scurried off in the opposite direction with quick little steps.
"You could've just left. Had to make a production of it."
Guys like that lived and died by their image and still never managed to look cool doing it.
"Are you alright?"
I spoke to the woman, who was still frozen in place.
"…Thank you."
Up close — wow. I could understand why that pig had been all over her. She was that beautiful. Tall, with a small, delicate face, and that neckline… but I felt like I'd seen her somewhere before.
"Oh?"
She seemed to recognize me too.
Ah. I remember now.
That rude nurse from back then. Yu Suhyeon.