Genius Pitcher Hides 170Km [EN]: Chapter 12

#11. 165km/h

What happens when you throw dozens of hot-blooded young men into one place?

It’s obvious, but the first thing that happens is a power struggle to establish dominance.

When I was playing in the major leagues, every day was a constant struggle of suffocating competition and mind games.

Honestly, it wasn’t easy for a young Asian rookie to survive among the big white and black guys.

Of course, after I proved my skills and crushed a few of the guys who were openly racist, most of them lowered their eyes in front of me.

But that was only in the major leagues.

In the Korean sports world, dominated by Confucian culture and military culture passed down through generations, the existence of seniors is close to that of grim reapers.

“Come over here and stand. Ahn Chi-wook, you little punk. Huh, you’re not lowering your eyes? Why, are you upset?”

“…Ah, no.”

The voice of Idiot No. 1, utterly terrified.

Ahn Chi-wook, you got lucky today. What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?

“Hmm.”

“What’s going on in there? Who is it?”

Song Ki-tae, who was oppressing Ahn Chi-wook, stammered in embarrassment at my clearing my throat.

Regardless, I carefully dried the water off my body, put on my gown, and went out to the locker room.

It was the scene I had expected.

Song Ki-tae, our team’s starting shortstop, was glaring at me with a deeply furrowed brow, and my classmate Ahn Chi-wook was standing there, completely demoralized and speechless.

“What, it was you?”

If you lined up all the people who were unhappy with me joining this team, Song Ki-tae would be at the very front.

A guy who made fans clutch the back of their necks with a batting average in the low .200s for three consecutive years and clutch errors that popped up at crucial moments, yet caught the team owner’s eye with a talent show at the year-end party two years ago, and thanks to that, received an undeserved FA [Free Agent] contract as a gift.

Actually, I don’t really care what position I play this season.

My goal is the team’s championship, not personal stats, so I think I should play wherever the most vulnerable position is.

Nevertheless, Song Ki-tae must have been quite stressed out since the talk of using me as a shortstop had been circulating since the first day of spring training.

I still remember the look in his eyes when he glared at me from third base earlier.

So, is he taking out his anger on Ahn Chi-wook? Because he can’t say anything to me, so he’s picking on someone easy?

“If you’re here to shower, go ahead. The hot water is good.”

“What?”

Whether he didn’t like being ignored even though he clearly heard what he was saying, or whether he had something to say to me from the start, a voice full of provocation flew at me.

Hmm, should I just pretend I don’t know and leave… but I can’t leave that idiot here alone.

“If you don’t have anything else to do, I’ll take Chi-wook with me. We have something to talk about, as classmates.”

“This punk… he doesn’t even treat his senior like a bug. Do you think I didn’t hear you two whispering with Ahn Chi-wook earlier?”

“Me?”

“You’re going to play shortstop, and that guy is going to play third base, or whatever. You punk.”

Ah, that’s what it was. As I expected, he heard it.

Actually, Ahn Chi-wook probably didn’t say that with any deep meaning.

He definitely didn’t mean to push out his senior and take his place instead.

He probably just meant that he wanted to play with me.

But to Song Ki-tae, who was losing everything he had enjoyed and was only left with being pushed out of the team, it must have sounded quite threatening.

Well, it’s none of my business.

“I didn’t say anything like that, senior. If you’ve said everything you wanted to say, can I go now? My back is a little stiff, so I think I should get a massage.”

“…This punk is getting bolder.”

Song Ki-tae’s voice and eyes began to fill with force.

Heh.

To be honest, it’s just funny.

I’ve survived for 15 years among guys whose biceps are as big as an average woman’s thigh.

I’ve rolled around on a stage where curses fly as soon as you make eye contact, and guys weighing over 100kg throw punches at each other over a single bat flip.

Song Ki-tae, who is barely 180cm tall and has a small build, was glaring at me, and I almost burst out laughing.

Um, should I kick him in the butt and tell him to get out of my sight right now?

…

I can’t.

I have to polish and package that kind of idiot and use him as a trade card.

Let’s be patient. That’s not a person. It’s just a talking sweet potato or potato.

I overcame the emotions rising from within with mind control and said to Song Ki-tae.

“If you don’t have anything else to do, I’ll be leaving. Let’s go, Ahn Chi-wook.”

“…This punk.”

In the end, Song Ki-tae couldn’t do anything until I pushed Ahn Chi-wook’s back and left the shower room.

Aside from the fact that I am the actual owner of this club, if I were an ordinary rookie who wanted to have a smooth career and had to be mindful of the seniors and juniors in the baseball world, I wouldn’t be able to do this much.

‘It’s none of my business.’

From the beginning, I am not interested in anything other than the Warriors’ championship, I have no intention of getting along with other team’s seniors and juniors, and I have no intention of transferring to another domestic team even if something happens.

In other words, it means that I don’t care what Song Ki-tae or other seniors think of me.

After leaving Song Ki-tae and leaving the shower room, Ahn Chi-wook, who couldn’t say anything until just now, started making strange noises again.

“Han Su-hyeok.”

“What.”

“You’re going to get on the bad side of the seniors if you keep doing that.”

“So?”

Who is worrying about whom? He’s so scared that his face is turning blue.

I can see that his hands are still trembling, but he’s trying not to show that he’s intimidated, so I chuckle.

Am I getting old? I feel like this bear-like guy is cute.

He’s kind of like a younger brother I’ve never had in my life.

“Okay, go in and sleep. I’ll take the thank you.”

“Um.”

“And you should be careful, not me. That frustrating way of talking is easy to misunderstand.”

Why does he keep saying ‘um’ without answering?

He keeps copying my form that doesn’t even fit him, and he’s subtly frustrating.

Should I tell him now?

Stop aiming for home runs that won’t happen and just hit singles properly?

That I once admired that guy’s hitting a little?

That if he works hard, he could aim for a .300 batting average?

Hmm.

Never mind. I’m sure he has his own thoughts.

“I’m leaving.”

“Um.”

Maybe even the same ‘um’ has different meanings for each of us, but let’s not try to think about it.

My head is already killing me.

* * *

The second morning of spring training dawned.

Following yesterday, the coaching staff focused on checking the condition of new faces, including me.

Light running, batting practice, and fungo fielding in different positions.

After finishing the morning training, my whole body was soaked in sweat.

The biggest advantage of this Arizona camp, which I’ve visited almost every year since I played in the major leagues, is the warm climate.

Even in February, the lowest morning temperature is only 8 degrees Celsius, and the highest daytime temperature rises to 22 degrees Celsius, so there is no better place to train without injury in the cold winter.

However, the scorching sunlight that shines all day long is a bit of a problem.

I was thinking of going back to the dorm and taking a shower, but I decided to find a cool shade and take a nap.

As I was about to fall asleep in the gentle breeze, someone’s voice disturbed my rest.

“Hey, Jang Deok-soo. Go get some water.”

“Mine too, put the drinks in a separate bottle.”

“Yes, I’ll be right back.”

I opened my eyes slightly and turned to the side, and Senior Jang Deok-soo, who had been rolling on the ground wearing a catcher’s mask until just now, was sweating profusely and running somewhere.

‘It’s those guys again.’

The identities of the guys who couldn’t even get their own water and drinks were Hwang Seong-min and Song Ki-tae.

I made eye contact with the guys who were giggling about something after sending Jang Deok-soo on an errand. But I didn’t avoid their gaze, and they didn’t show any particular reaction either.

‘I can see right through them.’

I didn’t know it when I was in my 20s.

I wasn’t interested in other people’s thoughts, and I didn’t have the experience to predict how they would act.

But it’s different now. I’ve already rolled around in the baseball world until my mid-30s.

They’re probably thinking this.

It’s hard to touch me directly within the team, so they’re holding back, but when the season starts, they’ll try to harass me by using other team’s classmates or seniors and juniors.

For example, starting a fight during a game or intentionally throwing a beanball [a pitch thrown deliberately at the batter’s head]. Creating bad public opinion.

Go ahead and try.

The moment you cross the line I’ve set, I’ll just give up on the trade card and tear you to pieces and throw you in the trash.

“Hah, hah, I brought the water and drinks. Senior.”

“…Put it there.”

“Yes?”

“Just put it there and go, you little punk. Ugh, you’re so slow.”

The anger that should have come to me is once again being directed in the wrong direction.

I was filled with anger when I saw Senior Jang Deok-soo, a gentle sheep who couldn’t do anything with a troubled expression.

Should I just fold them in half and throw them into the Pacific Ocean instead of trading them? Seong-hoon hyung and Park Jae-cheol general manager would be very sad, right?

Just as the thread of patience in my head was about to snap, someone intervened between us.

It was Jackson Sullivan, the new first-team pitching coach who was appointed to this team.

After I said that my goal was the team’s championship, he started calling me champion.

“Hmm, Champion, sorry to interrupt your rest, but can I ask you a favor?”

“Yes, coach.”

“I know that you said you wouldn’t be a pitcher this season. I’m fully aware that it’s specified in the contract.”

“That’s right.”

“So, this isn’t an order, it’s a request. If possible, can I see you pitch in person? Who knows? Maybe we’ll really go to the Korean Series Game 7. Haha.”

I was going to refuse.

I didn’t think anything would happen just by throwing a few practice balls, but my pitching form isn’t complete yet.

But seeing what those two freeloaders are doing now, I think I need to move my body once.

I need to show them one more time what kind of player I am and where I stand.

I need to let them know what it means to mess with me or the people around me.

“It’s possible. About twenty should be fine.”

“Great, then the catcher is… Hwang…”

“No, I think I can throw comfortably if Senior Jang Deok-soo, who shares a room with me, catches for me.”

“Really? Okay, hey, Jang. Get ready to catch the ball.”

“Yes? Yes, coach.”

Senior Jang Deok-soo, who heard the coach’s words through the interpreter, hurriedly put on his equipment and sat behind home plate.

“Okay, Champion. You don’t have to overdo it. I just want to see the potential. If we really go to the final series, I’m wondering if we can put you on the mound.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

The pitching coach gave me a thumbs up and went down the mound.

I loosened the muscles needed for pitching with light stretching and threw a few practice pitches towards Senior Jang Deok-soo’s mitt. Very lightly, just enough to loosen my shoulders.

Then, the eyes of everyone around the ground were focused on me. From the manager to the coaches, and even the other players.

They must be curious.

How great is this guy that the major leagues were so interested in him, and that he said he would make this last-place team win.

There are pitching videos of me from high school, but to be honest, I’m just fast and there are gaps here and there.

“I’m ready. Coach.”

“Okay, Champion. Hey, Jang. Are you ready?”

When the coach gave the signal, Senior Jang Deok-soo started preparing to catch the ball, hitting his mitt hard.

I feel a little sorry for that senior.

He’s kind and good to his seniors and juniors, and he has good hardware as a baseball player.

But that’s it. Maybe it’s because of his kind personality, but he’s ignored and stepped on by people, and he doesn’t seem to have enough desire to improve himself.

The front office and coaching staff seem to be thinking of Senior Jang Deok-soo as the starting catcher after trading Hwang Seong-min, but I’m a little skeptical.

‘Swish’

Anyway, it’s really time to throw the ball.

Looking at the catcher’s mitt from the mound of a formal stadium after a long time, my heart beats a little faster.

It’s a pleasant excitement.

Although I haven’t fully gotten used to it yet, I spread my feet about shoulder-width apart according to the process I practiced with Jacob, and put both arms in the correct position.

I powerfully stepped forward with my kicking left foot and maintained the balance of my body.

I gathered strength using the power of my lower body, transferred that power through a waist swing, and finally released that energy through my shoulders and arms.

The tremendous kinetic energy, which is superimposed in three layers, pushes the baseball. Towards the mitt that the catcher is holding out.

Whoosh

The baseball, which flew like a cannonball, was embedded in Senior Jang Deok-soo’s mitt.

Thwack!

“…Oh my god.”

People’s exclamations are heard here and there. Since more than half of the coaches are foreigners, English is heard more loudly than Korean.

Senior Jang Deok-soo, who caught the first pitch, looked at his hand wearing the mitt with a pale face several times.

At that moment, someone’s scream-like voice echoed on the ground.

“163km/h!”

“Holy shit…!”

“The speed is one thing, but… does the ball seem to be rising now?”

“I think so too. I’ll have to ask the catcher later.”

That can’t be. As long as the law of gravity applies, a four-seam fastball thrown by an overhand pitcher cannot rise.

It’s just an optical illusion caused by the movement being better than other pitchers, so the falling angle is small. Of course, from the perspective of the batters facing it, it will look like a pitch they’ve never encountered before.

Thwack!

I continued to pitch amidst the murmuring of the people.

Following 163, 161, 162, and then 163 again.

The sound of tearing from the catcher’s mitt echoed continuously. People who had been exclaiming at each ball at first are now staring at the catcher’s mitt with their mouths wide open.

“Just one more for the last time!”

“Yes, coach.”

Even though it’s a practice pitch, I feel refreshed after throwing the ball after a long time.

Even more so when I see the faces of Hwang Seong-min and Song Ki-tae, who are staring at me with blank expressions in the distance.

The ball, which I threw with all my might, thinking it was the last one, flew towards the catcher’s mitt.

‘Thwack!’

“165km/h!”

“Crazy!”

“Is this speed possible in Korea?”

“Is he really not going to be a pitcher even after doing that?”

Everyone on the ground is looking back and forth between me and the speed gun with blank expressions.

Yeah, this is the taste.