Genius Pitcher Hides 170Km [EN]: Chapter 216

215. Shadow of the Master

“Hey, Deoksu, did you hear the story?”

“What story?”

“This morning, Suhyuk had a big fight in the locker room over there.”

“A big fight?”

“Some clueless guys were talking trash to Suhyuk, and they got wrecked.”

“Those guys must have had a death wish.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Jang Deoksu chuckled in disbelief at Choi Maru’s words. Choi was in charge of gathering information on the Warriors, wandering around the camp speaking broken English.

The other players who heard it felt the same way.

From his debut, Han Suhyuk was like a ticking time bomb.

He was usually relatively quiet, but if someone committed an injustice or talked trash to him, he would beat them up, regardless of whether they were senior players from other teams or foreign players.

He showed a lot of restraint in 2027 when they were challenging for the championship for the first time in eight years.

He only threw punches at Hwang Sungmin and one foreign player.

But from the following year, when the Warriors reached the top of the Korean Series [Korea’s championship series in baseball] and found leisure instead of desperation, the restraints that had been holding Han Suhyuk back disappeared.

New foreign players who came to the KBO [Korean Baseball Organization] without knowing their place, and domestic players who picked fights due to past grudges.

Six.

That’s the number of guys who were beaten up by Han Suhyuk and taken to the hospital in the last two seasons.

He acted so freely even in the KBO, where there were plenty of established hierarchies, so what would happen when he came to America, where no one could stop him?

The racial issues still prevalent in Major League Baseball, the Seattle club’s special treatment of Han Suhyuk, and Han Suhyuk’s explosive personality combined?

It was obvious what would happen.

Of course, no one expected it to happen in spring training before the season even started.

“Alright, let’s get started! Don’t feel pressured, everyone. I’ll give you all a chance, so warm up well even if you’re not starting.”

At manager Lee Daejun’s words, the Warriors players stopped chatting and started warming up.

Thus, Han Suhyuk’s first practice game after wearing a Seattle uniform began.

* * *

Buzz buzz.

“Shhh!”

The players who had gathered in the Mariners’ seminar room before their first practice game against the Warriors stopped talking as if they had made a promise when someone appeared.

“Heh heh, I heard he insulted your woman. Good, we can’t let a guy like that get away with it.”

“My woman… well, it’s a bit of a stretch to call her that.”

“Anyway, good. Your fists are as hot as your bat. I like you.”

“Ty.”

“What?”

“For the record, I have a very normal view of dating.”

“What? Hahaha, okay. Sorry. I misspoke.”

Ty Johnson, who had been dominating the National League in a Cardinals uniform until the previous season but was now a Mariner, put his arm around Han Suhyuk’s shoulder and entered the seminar room.

The players who had gathered, especially those who had been complaining about Han Suhyuk until yesterday, closed their mouths and looked away.

Han Suhyuk, who didn’t really want to know but instinctively sensed the atmosphere, chuckled.

*This is much simpler and more to my liking than the Korean baseball scene, which is intertwined with school ties, regional ties, and seniority.*

Of course, there is respect for veterans here, and there are certain manners that rookies should have.

But it has nothing to do with him.

He wasn’t a rookie who came up from the minor leagues.

He was a player who crushed the KBO and came here after receiving a lucrative offer from Seattle.

If there was anyone who tried to ignore that or showed prejudice against Asians?

*I’ll crush them.*

*In the first place, to lead these youngsters, who have never experienced the World Series, to the championship trophy, I have to establish the atmosphere from the beginning.*

Hiding that thought, Han Suhyuk plopped down in the chair right next to Ty Johnson.

And after a while, the manager arrived.

“Welcome, gentlemen. I hope you all settled in okay?”

The manager knew that three idiots had messed with Han Suhyuk this morning and were promptly sent packing, but he didn’t bother to mention it.

Benjamin Reynolds, who had been the head coach of the Seoul Warriors until last season, accepted Seattle’s offer to become manager as soon as he received it.

The honor of being the manager of a Big League team was secondary.

Han Suhyuk.

He had wanted to manage Han Suhyuk directly for quite some time.

He had indirectly coached Han Suhyuk while assisting manager Lee Daejun, but as a human being, there were always some differences from his intentions.

Anyway, he followed Han Suhyuk to Seattle.

Along with some of the coaches who were in charge of hitting and pitching instruction in the Warriors.

Benjamin looked at each of the players in the eye and said.

“Okay, the opponent is the team that dominated the KBO for the last three seasons. If any of you underestimate that team as a Double-A level team, you better think again. Frankly, that team’s level is much higher than that. How do I know? I was on that team until recently.”

Tension appeared on the players’ faces at the manager’s words.

Especially the minor league players who were trembling with anxiety as they watched the locker room being emptied day by day.

“The practice games between the two teams during the joint training period last year were evaluated as being very helpful in the regular season. Therefore, all players will be used evenly, except for those who are injured or not yet in shape. Now, especially you guys who are watching from the corner, yes, you. Now is your chance. Strike them out, hit home runs, and impress me! Let’s go, Mariners!”

“Oooooh!”

Benjamin, who had always taken a step back and been faithful to his role as an advisor, seemed to have changed his style a bit as he took on the role of manager.

With Benjamin’s encouragement, the Mariners players left the seminar room one by one.

And the practice game between the two teams began.

* * *

“Time!”

“What? Time out in a practice game? And it’s only the first inning.”

“I need a time out! Time out! Hey, Park Dongseok, come up here!”

Choi Maru, who had barely managed to get the Seattle lead-off hitter out after throwing nine pitches in the top of the first inning, called time and called his best friend Park Dongseok to the mound.

The Mariners coach, who was the umpire for today’s game, nodded, showing his approval with an amused expression.

“Sorry. I’ll be right back. Ugh, that crazy bastard.”

“Hehehe, okay, go ahead.”

Park Dongseok, who took off his catcher’s mask and ran to the mound, said to Choi Maru.

“What’s wrong, you idiot? Why are you suddenly calling time? Ugh, this is embarrassing.”

“Why else? I’m going to try to strike out Suhyuk.”

“What?”

The two men’s eyes turned to the batter’s box.

There, Han Suhyuk, with his bat on his shoulder, was smiling at them.

“Ugh, that fearless guy. Do you still think that after seeing that guy’s face?”

“I’m trying not to look at his face. I feel like I’m going to pee my pants if I make eye contact.”

“I feel like I’m going to pee my pants just sitting behind him. His physique is completely different from when he was playing in Korea… Wow, and he’s grown out his hair in the back, so he really looks like a major leaguer. Isn’t he really cool?”

The time out to discuss strategy for facing the batter suddenly turned into a fan club meeting.

Park Dongseok, who noticed this first, shook his head and returned to the main point.

“Anyway, aside from all that, what are you going to do by striking out Suhyuk?”

“I want to show him how much I’ve grown… something like that?”

“What are you talking about? So you’re finally going to step out of your master’s shadow.”

“Hey, don’t put it that way…….”

Choi Maru, who had been an ardent follower of Han Suhyuk even before being drafted by the Warriors, had a new dream after he went to the United States.

Owner Park Seonghoon said.

*In the future, the Warriors will actively support players who have proven their qualifications and wish to advance overseas.*

That’s right.

Choi Maru’s dream now was to advance to the United States, and specifically to wear the same Seattle uniform as Han Suhyuk.

That’s why he wanted to strike him out.

He wanted to strike out his idol, whom he was facing in a different uniform for the first time, in a cool way and be recognized by him, the manager, and the coaches.

“Haa… okay, do as you please. Suhyuk doesn’t know you’re throwing that ball, so he’ll be surprised.”

“You’re dead if you miss the pitch call. Seriously.”

“Don’t talk nonsense and throw it straight. Don’t throw it somewhere weird.”

The two, no, the battery [pitcher and catcher], who are now in their third year as professionals, swallowed hard without realizing it.

Han Suhyuk, who looked bored as the conversation dragged on, entered the batter’s box, and the battery exchanged signs diligently.

Paang

“Ball.”

Paang

“Strike!”

Paang

“Ball.”

Paang

“Ball.”

Ttaaaaaak

“Foul!”

To play in the Big League, Han Suhyuk had gained weight and made some changes to his hitting mechanics.

To respond to the much faster pitchers’ speeds than in the KBO, he was adjusting his slide step and learning a slightly different hitting approach, bending his body toward the pitcher before hitting.

Perhaps because he hadn’t fully mastered it yet, Han Suhyuk tilted his head when the ball, which would have gone over the fence in the past, became a huge foul ball.

Choi Maru’s back was dripping with cold sweat at how dangerous that looked.

*Hey, here it comes. Catch it well.*

*You throw it well.*

The two rookies, no, the battery, who are now in their third year as professionals, swallowed hard without realizing it.

Choi Maru slowly and carefully went into his windup.

Choi Maru, who had increased his speed to nearly 100 mph (160 km/h) after entering the pros, was steadily taking starting lessons from the second half of last season after going through the setup man role.

However, a weakness was discovered in Choi Maru, who had switched to starting.

That was the lack of a finishing pitch.

Choi Maru, who had his pitching innings managed thanks to a good manager who was concerned about his student’s injury during his high school days, and who pitched mainly with a four-seam fastball, changeup, and a two-seam fastball he learned from Han Suhyuk instead of breaking balls that were bad for his shoulder or elbow, did not have a finishing pitch that could induce swings and misses from batters.

That weakness was not very noticeable when he was a setup man throwing short innings, but it was a very serious problem for a starting pitcher who had to throw more than 5 innings.

Eventually, after the season, Choi Maru began to equip himself with a new finishing pitch with the pitching coach.

High-speed slider, circle changeup, splitter… various pitches were mentioned.

And the pitching coach, who noticed that Choi Maru’s fingers were unusually long, recommended this ball.

“Hrararatcha!”

A white ball rose from Choi Maru’s fingertips with a strange shout that didn’t fit the situation.

It was a forkball.

A pitch that was once known to be thrown by half of Japanese pitchers, and that was quite popular in the United States and Korea following Japan.

However, as the perception that it was a difficult pitch to throw and had a high risk of injury spread, it naturally became obsolete, so it is now difficult to find a pitcher who throws it in 2030.

Hitting and pitching mechanics always interact with each other.

If falling balls are popular throughout the league, hitters will naturally swing upward.

Anyway, from that point of view, throwing a forkball that is almost obsolete now was not a bad choice in terms of competitiveness.

Injury?

The coach judged that there would be no major problems as long as it was not overused like a panacea. Choi Maru’s physical condition was very suitable for throwing a forkball.

It is slower than the splitter, which replaced the vertically falling ball, but the drop is much larger. If the tunneling section can be lengthened, it is a ball that can produce strikeouts.

The forkball, which was judged to be good to throw in a real game in the internally conducted practice pitching a while ago, flew towards Han Suhyuk.

Shooong

*Soon Han Suhyuk’s bat will cut through the air, and everyone will be applauding me?*

Choi Maru’s happy circuit was spinning furiously.

But it was all in vain.

There is an argument that there are hitters who can tell whether a ball is top spin or back spin the moment it leaves the pitcher’s fingertips.

Even Major League Baseball experts deny that it’s nonsense, but at least one person actually does it.

From the ball that flew from Choi Maru’s fingertips, Han Suhyuk caught a different movement than usual.

Curve? Or maybe a forkball?

He delayed the timing of his bat and moved his center forward to respond to the change.

The moment the ball, which was flying towards the catcher’s mitt, was about to drop down,

Ttaaaaaaaaaak!

“Cough!”

Han Suhyuk’s bat scooped up the ball as it was, and the batted ball, which was flying towards the left fence, gradually disappeared from people’s sight.

A huge home run that flew out of the practice field.

Choi Maru’s head dropped to the ground, and Han Suhyuk started circling the diamond, looking at him as if he were amused.