A Rookie In The Baseball Team Is Too Good [EN]: Chapter 343

New Recruit of Baseball Team Is Too Good – Episode 343

Chapter 81: Need More Cowbell (1)

Once upon a time, there was a cheering squad in Tampa Bay known as the ‘Cowbell Boys,’ who were said to be the most enthusiastic.

It wasn’t too difficult to gather basic information about them.

First, the ‘cowbell’ itself.

Apparently, this was a bell that American shepherds used to hang around the necks of cows.

The clanging sound made it easier to find cows that had wandered off to graze.

Next, ‘Why cowbells?’

Originally used by shepherds, it seems that American college sports began using them as cheering tools.

Like the clapping sticks or inflatable cheering batons often used in Korea, they would shake cowbells while cheering.

When the Tampa Bay Rays were first founded, fans were looking for a ‘unique’ cheering tool that no other team had, and that’s how the cowbell was chosen.

Clang, clang, clang.

In fact, this much information could easily be found through an internet search.

However, the Future Strategy Planning Department was unable to move forward from this exact point.

“We couldn’t find any other useful information.”

The Future Strategy Planning Department finished work a little earlier than usual.

The sports bar they often visited after work, [Big Fergus’s Beer House].

John Ramer spoke to Ji-seop as they ordered draft beer and french fries and sat at the counter.

“Brett Evans’s first pitching 기념 [commemorative] event… Honestly, I thought digging into this would give us some plausible ideas.”

The story was that all work had been temporarily suspended because the information was blocked.

Ji-seop hung his backpack behind the chair and said.

“Oh, really? Did the local media’s website not have anything either?”

“Yes, it seems like it was 20 years ago, so…”

John Ramer clicked his tongue.

“The articles from that time aren’t on the website, and it seems like there was a bulletin board that the ‘Cowbell Boys’ used… but it’s not accessible now.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Even if we try to ask the team staff… you know? It’s very rare to find someone who has worked for 10 years at our Tampa Bay Rays.”

Meaning that even 10-year employees are rare, so how many people would remember something from 20 years ago?

Ji-seop felt that the ‘legacy issue’ that Vincent Hiyama had pointed out was not limited to the team.

‘It was a problem for our entire team.’

No history. No tradition. So there is no culture that binds everyone together.

The team was over 30 years old since its founding, but it felt like something wasn’t connected and kept breaking off.

He also thought that this could be one of the reasons why the Tampa Bay Rays had not won a championship for so long.

“Hmm, then we’ll have to find another way.”

But he couldn’t just sigh and do nothing.

Ji-seop was lost in thought as he watched the owner start pouring a draft beer.

‘It was 20 years ago, so the general manager might know something.’

He was the only one who had stayed with the Tampa Bay Rays while many employees left the team in search of new opportunities.

‘Higgins in the facilities department has also been working for a long time, and there’s McNally, a reporter for the Florida Chronicle… Ah, that’s right. I can ask Brett Evans himself, can’t I? I have a Triple-A business trip the day after tomorrow anyway.’

Now, it seemed like he could solve problems quickly.

Was it because he was starting to understand how the team worked? Is that why Boras Corporation was paying attention to me?

While he was having such trivial thoughts and accepting the glass of draft beer from the owner.

“Oh, did you have something kept here?”

Over the owner’s shoulder, he saw a store clerk approaching the cupboard.

It seemed that one of the customers had requested to find a bottle of liquor they had left at the store. The clerk began to look through the cupboard filled with bottles.

“Let’s see, Fred, Fred, Fred… Ah, here it is!”

Perhaps because he was a sensible employee, it didn’t take him long to find the bottle.

The moment he pulled out a long bottle from the highest corner of the cupboard, John Ramer, who was sitting next to Ji-seop, made a ‘whoa’ sound.

“Kim, look over there!”

“Yes?”

“The spot where that guy just took out the bottle. Behind the bottle…”

John Ramer said, pointing to the cupboard.

“Isn’t that a cowbell?”

* * *

It was true. It was a cowbell.

Moreover, it was a cowbell with the Tampa Bay Rays logo on it.

When Ji-seop pointed to the object in question, the owner’s reaction was as follows.

“Oh, this? A cowbell?”

Fergus, the owner of [Big Fergus’s Beer House], raised his large hand and took out the cowbell.

Dust had settled thickly on the cowbell, indicating how long it had been inside.

“I used to take this with me when I went to the baseball stadium… Haha, it’s been a long time since I took it out like this.”

“You took it with you?”

Ji-seop showed interest.

“Then were you also active in the ‘Cowbell Boys’? You know, the ones that Brett Evans was a part of…”

“No, I wasn’t that enthusiastic of a supporter.”

Whoo, whoo, whoooo.

Fergus blew away the dust and placed the cowbell on the counter.

“Back then, it was almost a necessity. There were merchants lined up selling cowbells on the way to the stadium, and even the customers who came to our store after the game had one in their hands.”

He added that it was once a symbol of Tampa Bay fans.

People who visited Tropicana Field for the first time would buy a cowbell that suited them.

Hearing that it was such a popular cheering tool, a question naturally arose.

“Why is it that such a popular item… is hardly seen these days?”

“Hey, isn’t it obvious? Something that was popular at the baseball stadium suddenly disappeared? Then it’s the team’s decision.”

Fergus continued.

“Was it the Cowbell Boys? Those guys probably had a lot to do with it. Those guys would even go to the visiting team’s cheering section and clang their cowbells, often causing trouble.”

Every team in the world is the same.

At this time, Ji-seop was thinking that.

“Other teams aside, the Yankees or Boston fans aren’t usually very nice, right? So voices would get louder, and sometimes there would be fistfights…”

Fergus also seemed to have been involved in such incidents once or twice, as a sheepish smile appeared on his face.

“At first, the team set its own rules and promoted cheering etiquette… but later, they couldn’t do it, so they just banned it.”

No More Cowbell.

Cowbells are not allowed.

It was said that such a phrase was posted at the entrance gate of Tropicana Field.

“Hey, Jerry! That article that was in the newspaper a while ago… the manta ray kidnapping case, was that around that time?”

At Fergus’s question, a customer sipping alcohol from across the room answered.

“I think so? The Cowbell Boys protested a lot. They took the manta ray hostage and tried to get the cowbells allowed again…”

“Ah, that’s how it happened?”

A more eventful object than he thought.

As Ji-seop looked down at the cowbell with interest, Fergus spoke again.

“But putting all that aside, there’s also a rumor that the managers who came to Tropicana Field on road trips protested.”

“Protested? What protest?”

“They said, ‘Can’t you do something about that damn cowbell?’ They said it was annoying and they couldn’t concentrate on the game… or something like that.”

“Oh, come on.”

David Wilson, who had been listening quietly, snorted.

“How much face do the managers save? How can they argue about the fans’ cheering tools? I don’t know about anything else, but that’s not right.”

“No! There really was such a story!”

Fergus said, holding up the cowbell.

“If you don’t believe me, try shaking it. I honestly think it’s a bit of an annoying sound.”

“Is it that bad?”

David Wilson tilted his head and took the cowbell.

As he began to shake the cheering tool in question, a loud noise echoed throughout the store.

Clang, clang, clang.

It didn’t feel that irritating.

David Wilson, who was shaking the cowbell, also made a sound of air escaping.

However, Fergus was not easily swayed.

“Hey, no! Faster! We shook this like crazy!”

“Faster? Like this?”

“No, a little more vigorously!”

Clang, clang, clang, clang!

Only then did an ‘ah’ expression appear on David Wilson’s face.

“It definitely has something to it.”

“Right?”

Fergus was somehow slightly smug.

“Think about it. Tropicana Field is a dome stadium, right? The sound already echoes, and if tens of thousands of spectators shake this like crazy…”

“Ah, I see. They might protest. It wouldn’t have been easy for the players to concentrate.”

David Wilson nodded and put down the cowbell.

“In that case, the team’s decision wasn’t entirely wrong. No matter how popular it is, you can’t allow something that interferes with the game, right?”

That was right.

The baseball team’s front office has a duty to make sure the game runs smoothly.

If the opposing team protested, it would have been a better choice to ban the cowbell.

Especially if it was an item that caused conflict with opposing team fans.

‘That’s true, but…’

The look in Fergus’s eyes as he looked at the cowbell was a little strange.

Was it just Fergus? The expressions of the customers across the street who were agreeing were similar.

Anyone else would have just tilted their head once and moved on, but Ji-seop could read their minds.

[It’s definitely a bit of a tacky item… but I had fun when I had it.]

That was Fergus’s inner thought.

[Honestly, it was spectacular. The sound of cowbells echoing throughout the wide Tropicana Field.]

This was the mind of the customer across the street.

[It would be nice to watch baseball while clanging cowbells like in the old days.]

[I wonder what it’s like these days? Would the security guards say something if I brought a cowbell in these days?]

He couldn’t know for sure.

Whether it was simply because they enjoyed being able to shake cowbells and watch baseball.

Or whether they wanted to relive the memories of 20 years ago, now that time had passed without a word.

Ji-seop couldn’t be sure of the Tampa Bay old fans’ feelings towards the cowbell, but he saw one possibility.

‘It might be worth trying at least once?’

Cowbell Day.

A day when you can watch baseball noisily, clanging cowbells like in the old days.

‘Right, it was called the Cowbell Boys, wasn’t it? I’ll put out an ad to find those people…’

Come up with an idea for Brett Evans’s comeback event.

It seemed that the answer to Brian Sponn’s special instructions had been decided.