A Rookie In The Baseball Team Is Too Good [EN]: Chapter 67

The Baseball Team’s New Recruit Is Too Good – Episode 67

Chapter 19: The Heart of the Watcher (2)

The arrival of Manager Arthur Freeman.

It was Ji-seop’s job to explain the situation.

Why were so many people gathered so late? Why was Ryu Jang-ho, the team’s best hitter, looking so upset?

“Hmm, is that so?”

After listening to Ji-seop, Manager Freeman silently studied Ryu Jang-ho’s face.

Then, he casually said, “So, fan service…….”

Manager Freeman stroked his chin. “Many say fan service is a player’s duty, but I don’t really agree.”

As Ji-seop relayed the manager’s words, the atmosphere subtly shifted.

“Wh-what do you mean?” It was the Cannons’ operations team leader.

“Isn’t American Major League Baseball the place that values fan service the most? I thought it was…”

“Ah, that’s true. The league values it. But like everything, there are exceptions.”

Manager Freeman continued, “There are guys in the Major League who neglect fan service, and I’ve never criticized them. Why?”

His eyes gleamed slightly. “Because they were unbelievably good at baseball!”

You don’t *have* to do fan service if you’re *that* good.

That seemed to be the manager’s thinking.

“If you can drive thousands, tens of thousands of fans wild with amazing plays every game… what’s the big deal about not signing autographs for ten or twenty?”

“……”

“If you’re so busy worrying about those few people that you neglect your game preparation, you’re letting down the thousands who come to the stadium. Don’t you think?”

A perspective no one expected from an American manager.

Everyone blinked, speechless, as Manager Freeman continued, “Jang-ho, the same goes for you.”

“……Yes?!” Ryu Jang-ho straightened up, startled.

“If fan service is a burden, hindering your baseball… I’m willing to relieve you of that duty.”

It seemed to go beyond just not using the team bus on away games.

“As long as I’m the manager, you don’t have to sign a single autograph. I can officially announce that as a directive.”

“Ma-Manager!!!” The operations team leader jumped up, startled, but Manager Freeman calmed him with a hand.

“However, if you want that special treatment… you need to prove you have the skills to match, right?”

“Sk-skills…?” Ryu Jang-ho’s fists tightened on his knees.

Manager Freeman smiled. “The cause of today’s incident was Mr. Chun’s impromptu autograph session… so it’s reasonable to match your baseball to Mr. Chun’s level, wouldn’t it?”

The manager’s gaze turned to Ji-seop. “Hey, Ji-seop! What was Mr. Chun’s record today? 5 RBIs [Runs Batted In] or 6?”

“6 RBIs, Manager.”

“Right. Let’s use that as the standard.”

Get 7 RBIs in a game.

Manager Freeman held up seven fingers. “I’ll give you two weeks. If you record 7 RBIs in a game within that time… I’ll acknowledge you deserve the treatment and exempt you from all fan service.”

Well, what do you think?

The manager spread his arms. “Pretty fair, right?”

* * *

Ryu Jang-ho accepted. “I understand. I’ll do it.”

True to his dedication, he added, “The current batting order makes it hard to aim for RBIs. Can I bat 5th for now?”

“Hmm, not difficult.”

With Manager Freeman’s promise, the ’emergency meeting’ ended. People were relieved the complaint hadn’t escalated, but puzzled by the manager’s intentions.

-7 RBIs is tough…

-But completely exempting him from fan service is too much!

-What’s he thinking…?

All they could do was whisper. But Ji-seop, thanks to his role, heard the manager’s thoughts directly.

“Hehe, why so serious? It had to be done sometime.”

The next day, during batting practice, Manager Freeman watched from the dugout, relaxed.

“Our best hitter needed this opportunity.”

“Opportunity…?” Ji-seop tilted his head.

“To become a *great* player, not just good. To become a league-leading hitter, not just a key player.”

Manager Freeman wiped his sunglasses. “Jang-ho is good. Young, but technically complete.”

Ryu Jang-ho was leading the team in batting average, home runs, and RBIs.

Ji-seop agreed.

“But mentally… he’s still a rookie.”

“……”

“His thoughts on fan service, his awareness of the team atmosphere, his willingness to accept others’ opinions…”

Ji-seop had vaguely felt it. He’s great at baseball and serious about it, but in other areas, he’s like a recent high school graduate.

Manager Freeman looked at Ji-seop. “Why do you think that is?”

Ji-seop met his gaze and repeated what he’d heard: “Because Jang-ho debuted in the Cannons?”

“Exactly! You read my mind!” Manager Freeman slapped Ji-seop’s back.

“The Cannons have been a lower-ranked team for a long time. By the All-Star Game, hope for the post-season is gone, right?”

When fall baseball is impossible, attention shifts.

“Individual player performance.”

Manager Freeman shrugged. “The club, the fans, even the players… they’re more concerned with Jang-ho’s hits and records than team wins, right?”

An atmosphere where you focus on your own game, encouraged by the club. Ryu Jang-ho’s career had been in that atmosphere.

“But we can’t continue that… is that what you’re thinking?”

“Exactly.” Manager Freeman nodded. “Even with Mr. Chun, Jang-ho must become the leader. When he’s the center, the Cannons can finally contend for the championship.”

Manager Freeman made this bet to develop Ryu Jang-ho as the leader.

Ji-seop nodded. “Is that why you set the standard as RBIs, not hits or home runs?”

“Precisely.”

Manager Freeman put on his sunglasses. “RBIs require teammates’ help. To win the bet, he’ll have to consider them, even if he doesn’t want to.”

Manager Freeman chuckled. “Of course, 7 RBIs in 1 game in 2 weeks… it’s a difficult record.”

As he spoke, there was a buzz on the ground. Ryu Jang-ho was about to practice batting.

“Jang-ho, focus!”

“Heard about the bet! 7 RBIs!”

“Ordinary hitting won’t do it! You need 4 for 4, no, 5 for 5!”

Knowing about the bet, the players teased him.

“……”

Ryu Jang-ho ignored them, entering the batting cage silently.

“Please take care of me.”

“Okay! Okay!” Batting practice began with the pitcher’s shout. Then, exclamations erupted.

Taak!

Taak!

Taak!

Each swing sent a white streak deep into the outfield.

Perhaps it was his determination to win the bet, or his hatred of fan service, or his desire to surpass Chun Jin-woo…

Taak!

Taak!

Taak!

One thing was certain: Ryu Jang-ho’s hitting was at its peak.

Even Ji-seop and Manager Freeman felt nervous at the sound.

“Manager, just in case…” Ji-seop said.

“If he really gets 7 RBIs… what will you do?”

Regardless of his teammates’ help, his hitting was incredible.

“If Ryu Jang-ho doesn’t do fan service… the general manager or the acting owner won’t stand for it, right?”

“Th-the acting owner?” Even Manager Freeman seemed afraid.

He cleared his throat and wiped sweat. Showing a different reaction, he smiled strangely at Ji-seop.

“Hey, Ji-seop. Why don’t you start practicing now, just in case?”

“Practice? What kind?”

“Ryu Jang-ho’s autograph practice.”

Watching another ball go over the fence, Manager Freeman continued, “If you can sign like him, we’re covered, right?”

“……Manager.”

Ji-seop chuckled. “I didn’t know you could joke.”