episode_0007

“Okay, okay. I’m going to announce the starting lineup for today’s practice game, so listen up. Cheonggun pitcher Kim Won-ho, … Baekgun pitcher … Second baseman Ji Maeng-ho….”

Starter? Me as a starter? Even though it’s just a practice game, the coach put me in the starting lineup. Although the Baekgun lineup was made up of 1.5-grade players, just thinking about the night I spent crying because I couldn’t go out even for such a practice game…

“Just being in the starting lineup for a practice game is something to be happy about.”

I tried to immerse myself in the sentiment, but this guy interrupted.

“To you, it might not be a big deal, but to me, it’s a precious opportunity! Do you know how I felt not playing a game for three years?”

“How can I convey the feelings of a high school benchwarmer like me…”

“Despite saying that, your expression is bright, isn’t it? Are you also happy that I’m playing in the game?”

“You damn little monkey. You’re so focused on baseball that you don’t even have sex and only train. Go run to that girl’s house right now!”

“What do you mean by monkey? You’re the one fantasizing about sex all day and calling me a monkey.”

If I keep talking, I feel like I’ll lose energy before the game, so I decided to ignore Rosbi’s words. Still, spending about six months with this guy has given me the ability to hear useless words with one ear and let them pass through the other, which I consider fortunate.

“Maeng-ho, you’re batting sixth today and playing second base. Can you handle it?”

“Yes! Please trust me.”

In response to the head coach’s words, I expressed confidence with a bright face. What’s the big deal about being in the first team? It’s just high school level. With Rosbi by my side, I am invincible and divine!

“You damn little monkey. Do you finally understand my greatness?”

“Please! Mr. Rosbi!”

Moreover, the opponent is Kim Won-ho! The guy who stole my first love. It felt like my baseball skills had doubled.

“Maybe it’s because he’s young, but that girl looked so enticing with her lips slightly parted… Why don’t you watch that video again?”

“…Because I don’t want to.”

First love remains most beautiful when it stays as first love. Masturbating while thinking of my friend was no longer about first love. I didn’t want to see her or think about her anymore.

“Asshole.”

“…Yeah. I’m an idiot.”

“It’s good that you admit it. Keep acting like an idiot in the future.”

…You bastard. Pretending to practice batting, I swung the bat at Rosbi. Of course, I missed.

“Maeng-ho! It’s nice to see you working hard! Let’s play together this time for sure.”

Unintentionally, Kim Won-ho extended his greetings to me. Perhaps because he’s a unique upperclassman within the team, he seemed to feel a sense of closeness towards me. Well, Won-ho and I were originally close… Avoiding him only feeds my inferiority complex unnecessarily.

“Sure. Don’t watch me then.”

“Where did I ever watch you in baseball?”

In response to his words, I raised my middle finger. Kim Won-ho chuckled and walked towards the Cheonggun dugout. Initially, I wanted to smash his head with a bat when I first saw that video, but after having sex with Hye-jin noona… I don’t feel the same level of inferiority as before.

“All thanks to me.”

Rosbi’s words were correct. The fundamental inferiority I feel towards him stems from Hyuna’s incident, but fundamentally, it’s about baseball. I envied the guy who could effortlessly throw a 150 km/h fastball into the strike zone.

…But not anymore. Now that Rosbi is by my side and passing on his experience to me.

“You have a good face. Now you look like a warrior. So, what kind of pitches does that damn monkey throw?”

Before the game started, Rosbi asked me about Kim Won-ho’s pitches. Genuine baseball enthusiasts might say he plays dirty, but that was no longer important to me. Ji Maeng-ho, who used to only know baseball since watching Hyuna’s video, had died.

“…All that’s left is a sex-crazed horny monkey.”

“Don’t put your own narration in other people’s minds!”

Don’t be embarrassed, just tell the truth. You’re just a monkey.

“I do throw forkballs occasionally with my changeup and slider, but I usually reserve the forkball for crucial moments in real games and won’t use it in practice matches.”

“Huh, these days kids play baseball like gays. Back in our day, we’d cut the ball and get mud on it, not throw changeups as a trick.”

“Wasn’t the spitball banned when you were a coach?”

“You idiot. I’m talking about my playing days.”

Although his tone felt childish, at times like this, it really hit home that Rosby was a major leaguer active a hundred years ago.

“Well, the grip on the changeup and slider is somewhat similar…”

“Hey, can’t the legendary Rosby even figure that out?”

“Is this damn monkey kid provoking me?”

“Then why pretend to be weak?”

“This damn monkey kid. If you can’t beat me mentally, you’ll blame me for sure.”

“…That’s true.”

Rosby nodded at my words, then fluttered off towards where Kim Won-ho was pitching in the bullpen. Even though he said that, seeing him go check out the grip and pitch made me wonder if Rosby might be a tsundere?

“Shut up, you punk!”

“…Did he just leave?”

“I know. Judging by how you play baseball, even if I were your parent, I’d be ashamed.”

Another advantage of being around Rosby was that dealing with his trash talk and racial discrimination had toughened my mental game to the point where most insults didn’t faze me. Thanks to that, even as a pro, I probably wouldn’t be bothered much by typical insults.

“Do you not remember when you used to cry alone in your room? Is your memory as shitty as a monkey’s?”

…There were indeed such times. Sigh.

“Baek-gun! Everyone gather around.”

Perfect timing! Just before launching a full-scale attack on my dark past, the head coach who was taking on the role of Baek-gun’s daily manager today called all of us together.

“Alright. This is the final intrasquad scrimmage before entering the weekend league. You all know that if you perform well in this game, there’s a chance of starting in the weekend league, right? And the starting pitcher is Won-ho. If you can hit off him, you’ll definitely make an impression for the weekend league, so the coach will take notice, right? Let’s work hard. Let the lion roar and begin.”

The senior coach demanded a fighting spirit from me, the third-year student and oldest member.

“Center of Korean sports! Hanche High School! Fighting!”

“Fighting!”

Everyone in my team responded. Despite feeling a bit embarrassed by the recent focus on our relatively new and weak team, their cheers warmed my heart.

In the top of the first inning, Baek-gun, playing as the away team, started first. The starting pitcher for the White team was our ace, Kim Won-ho. Naturally, he breezed through the first inning with just 10 pitches. Kim Won-ho’s fastest pitch clocked in at 147. Considering it’s spring, he might hit 150 by summer. He truly was a pitcher worth attention from professional teams.

“Hey, you guys, pay attention to the ball!”

“Sorry.”

“Alright. Let’s get ready for defense.”

“Sir, did you see my grip?”

“Yeah. As long as you’re not an idiot, you can do it.”

I put on my glove and headed out to the infield. Sensing the ground beneath my spikes, I felt the culmination of all the effort I had put in to step onto this field. Although I hadn’t dreamed of being a shortstop, tears threatened to well up.

“You idiot. Focus on the game during the game. The opponent won’t care about your idiotic emotions.”

As frustrating as it was, it wasn’t wrong. I deeply engraved Rosby’s rare advice on baseball in my mind. Or was it the first advice he ever gave me?

“I will focus.”

Alright. This kind of practice game is just a first step for me to become the best second baseman in baseball history. Plus, it’s only at the high school level. Wasting emotions on such games felt stupid, like what Rosby said.

The starting pitcher for Baekgun is our team’s second starter, Park Young-chul. He was a left-handed pitcher throwing around 140 kilometers per hour.

“Mangho hyung. I’m counting on you.”

“Alright. Let’s do our best.”

“I’ll try not to send the ball your way as much as possible. It’s your first time playing, after all.”

A tone that subtly ignores me. Seeing a second-year kid talk like this shows me how I’ve been treated on the team so far. Damn kid. Someday you’ll kneel beneath me.

“Oh. Wide defensive range? But I don’t like it when guys do it. Don’t share the sense. You’re a gay kid.”

“What nonsense. Focus on the game.”

“You’re not nervous, right, hyung?”

“Don’t talk crap and send the ball my way.”

After Park Young-chul’s practice pitch, Cheonggun’s first inning attack began. A suitable tension stimulates the muscles.

Someone might say playing baseball defense is hard? Just standing there, right? While some may say that, just standing there tensely requires tremendous mental strength. And thinking about the distance for each ball movement wasn’t as easy as one might think.

Thud!

“Foul.”

The clean sound of “foul” from the defensive coach watching the umpire. And as a few balls left the pitcher’s hand, when the ninth ball was thrown, a clear sound rang out as the ball flew towards second base. I instinctively dove.

Thwack.

A solid sensation felt in the glove. It came in. I immediately got up from the diving position and threw the ball towards first base without taking a step. Handling countless hits through sensory sharing with Rosby made this seem light to me.

“Out!”

Handling hits countless times in training, but catching an out in a game. And the first baseman didn’t miss my throw.

“Nice second baseman!”

Pitcher Park Young-chul shouted loudly. The guy who ignored me before now smiled and praised my fielding, making my heart warm… I must have lost. I used to purely enjoy playing baseball.

But now, there was no excitement. These kids are just tools to go pro, not a team. It wasn’t even funny to talk about team play now.

“It’s a good mindset. The others are just losers. Baseball is a team sport? Those who say that need a slap. Baseball is an individual sport. If you match the team’s stupid level, you’ll fall to that level too. Wins and losses come and go, but stats last forever! Everyone knows how many home runs Babe Ruth hit, but no one knows how many times he won. Baseball is all about stats! More money! More women! More sex! Hahaha!”

“Sir, I understand you’re excited to play after a long time, but please calm down.”

“Oh. Hyung! Your no-step is amazing, isn’t it?”

“Mangho hyung always had good shoulders!”

“Let’s focus on the game. Two outs left now.”

“Yes!”

The faces of the laughing guys turned serious again with my words. Indeed, in baseball, you have to show your skills. If the old me had said something like this, they would have laughed or mocked.

“The monkey acting charismatic.”

Rosby, perhaps feeling awkward about what he heard from me, habitually cursed.

“Did you find me charismatic, sir? Thank you for the compliment.”

“… ”

I won. Catching the first out, shutting Rosby up, it was a good start.