Perfect Agent [EN]: Chapter 47

“You have to catch it while running!”

Jeong In-gyu’s voice boomed across the indoor practice field as he hammered fungo balls from home plate.

“Are you just going to let it drop? If you don’t dive, you’re practically giving up a hit. Do you think you can play a real game like that? Again!”

*Thwack.*

“That’s it! Nice catch!”

The players were throwing themselves around, each desperate to snag the balls hurtling their way.

It felt more like a grueling spring training camp than a light conditioning session.

These players needed results, and they needed them now. There was no time for half-measures.

The drill was simple: fielders had to catch the ball and fire it to first base.

A fundamental defensive exercise for any infielder.

Jeong In-gyu was putting in work, no doubt about it; every ball he hit seemed designed to land in the most difficult spot possible.

Throughout the training, a few players showed flashes of genuine defensive instinct.

Their dedication was on par with that of professional players.

I could see the younger players practicing their batting next to us.

Some were using a batting tee, focusing on their form. Others had a teammate pitching to them, working on their timing.

Many swings were powerful and clean, but there were also areas that clearly needed work.

Without thinking, I pulled out my smartphone and opened the memo app.

I started jotting down notes: the player’s name, jersey number, and a few observations about their strengths and weaknesses.

After a while, the defensive drill team switched places with the batting practice group.

Judging by the rising and falling chorus of voices echoing through the indoor space, quite a bit of time had passed.

Jeong In-gyu’s voice, which had been booming from the start, began to show signs of strain.

His throat must have been killing him, but he didn’t seem willing to lower his volume.

If anything, it made the training feel even more intense.

After watching their training for a while, I felt like I had a decent grasp of each of the ten or so players.

“My juniors are working so hard; I can’t just stand here and watch.”

I stood up and walked over to the players doing batting practice.

“Oh?”

The juniors recognized me as soon as we made eye contact.

“Aren’t you Kang Hyun-woo, senior [a term for someone older or more experienced in a group]?”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

I could feel the younger players doing defensive drills next to us buzzing as they heard my voice.

I shouldn’t let it get to my head, but my shoulders straightened a little without me realizing it.

I shook hands with the juniors with my right hand and clapped them on the shoulder with my left, trying to project a friendly, approachable vibe.

But honestly, I also wanted to trigger the information window and get a more accurate read on them.

As expected, the familiar information windows popped up above everyone’s heads.

-Using a bat that is too heavy for him.

-Has physical abilities more suited for an outfielder.

-Worried about what to do if he doesn’t get into college.

-Considering joining as an undrafted player because he can’t afford to go to college.

-Planning to complete his military service first.

I could see not only their performance metrics but also their personal anxieties.

Thanks to what Jeong In-gyu had told me, I was somewhat prepared for this.

I picked up the bat of the junior who was batting last.

“What’s the weight of this bat right now?”

“900 grams [approximately 32 ounces].”

I took a few light practice swings, and I could definitely feel the weight.

Looking at the junior’s build, he definitely had some size and power.

It was clear that his strength was his advantage, and he was using a heavier bat to maximize it.

“Try switching to something a little lighter than this. It’s too heavy for you right now.”

“Really?”

The junior’s eyes widened.

“I don’t know if you’re hitting it well during tee practice, but in a real game, your timing seems a little late, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“It’s probably because your swing speed is too slow.”

“Then what gram should I use?”

“There’s no single right answer. The only way to find out is to try different weights and see what feels best. And you don’t have to stick with just one weight. You have to adjust based on your body condition each day. It even varies depending on the season.”

Professional players are incredibly particular about their equipment.

And when it comes to bats, they often make adjustments throughout the season depending on how they’re feeling.

“Professional players also change bats depending on their condition. At the beginning of the season, they might use a slightly heavier bat, but if their stamina drops in the summer, they switch to a lighter one.”

“Ah…….”

“Experiment and analyze why you hit well on the days you hit well. Keep a detailed record of everything, from what you did before stepping up to the plate to how you approached each at-bat.”

There’s no magic formula for becoming a great baseball player.

The only way to improve is to figure out what you’re doing right and learn how to replicate it consistently.

I called out the names of the juniors one by one and shared the notes I had taken earlier, along with the information from the windows above their heads.

I wish I could have watched them play in a real game to give them more specific advice.

-Worried about not being able to increase his velocity.

-Has a talent for judging outfield fly balls.

-If he develops his blocking ability, he could become a competitive catcher.

Thanks to the information window, I was able to quickly identify strengths and weaknesses that might have taken me much longer to notice otherwise.

The juniors were hanging on my every word.

They couldn’t hide their surprise at how quickly I had identified their concerns, strengths, and weaknesses and offered targeted advice.

Before I knew it, the juniors who had been doing defensive drills had gathered around with Jeong In-gyu.

I shook hands with them, scanned their information, and continued to offer advice.

I tried to give each of the juniors something useful to think about.

My quick coaching session wasn’t going to magically transform their baseball skills, but hopefully, it would give them a little boost.

“Thank you, senior.”

One of the juniors bowed, and the rest followed suit.

“Okay. Everyone, keep working hard.”

“Senior, can I get your autograph?”

One of the juniors hesitantly held out his bat.

“Do you have a marker?”

I took the bat and looked around. Another player quickly darted off and returned with a Sharpie.

“Me too…….”

“Please sign mine too.”

Everyone lined up, holding out their equipment.

It reminded me of the first time I signed an autograph at the hospital a few months ago.

I wonder how that kid is doing.

Signing autographs multiple times was harder than I remembered.

How did those players who signed autographs for me when I was a kid manage to do it for hours?

Meeting me might be a good and unforgettable memory for these juniors, so I did my best, even though my hand was starting to cramp.

Fortunately, there weren’t too many of them.

“Is that all?”

“Yes! Thank you, senior.”

Everyone was beaming as they looked at their signed equipment.

Seeing their smiles, I couldn’t help but laugh.

Jeong In-gyu, who had been watching from the sidelines, walked over.

“Alright, everyone. That’s it for today’s training. If you want to stay and practice more, feel free. But don’t forget to turn off the lights before you leave. Got it?”

“Yes!”

It was the most enthusiastic response I’d heard all day.

“Dismissed.”

At Jeong In-gyu’s command, the juniors grabbed their bats and gloves, eager to get back to practice.

“Hyun-woo, let’s go grab some dinner.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

I nodded at Jeong In-gyu.

“Guys, see you next time.”

“Thank you, senior.”

As I waved goodbye, the juniors bowed politely.

Strangely, I felt a pang of attachment and turned back several times to look at them as I walked away.

* * *

Pork sizzled in front of me, dripping with fat.

“After this, it’s beef time.”

“Wow! It’s different when you’re hanging out with a successful friend.”

Jeong In-gyu grinned as he grilled the meat.

“You have to eat all kinds of meat in moderation. You can’t just eat beef and make the pork feel neglected.”

“If that’s the case, shouldn’t we eat the good stuff first, before we get full?”

“You don’t know anything. You can eat beef after eating pork, but you can’t eat pork after eating beef.”

“Where did you hear that?”

Jeong In-gyu tilted his head.

“Beef is much more delicious. Would you want to eat pork after that?”

“That’s… surprisingly persuasive.”

“Let’s have a drink first.”

We raised our glasses and clinked them together.

Then we downed them in one gulp.

“Those kids are really working hard.”

Seeing the juniors training earlier had made me shake my head in admiration.

“Of course. They probably got here early this morning, and they’ll probably be here until late tonight.”

Jeong In-gyu sighed and handed me a piece of cooked meat.

“How are you doing these days? Anything new?”

“Nothing new, but also something new.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m working hard every day, but I’m starting to wonder if this is the right thing to do.”

The booming voice from earlier was gone, replaced by a weary tone.

“It’s great to see them grow and train hard together for three years. But that’s all I can do.”

Jeong In-gyu picked up his glass and emptied it.

“No matter how many competitions our school wins, how many kids from the team will actually get drafted into the pros? Maybe two or three, at most? Honestly, the rest just end up… stuck. And once they graduate, there’s realistically nothing I can do to help them.”

Like me, Jeong In-gyu hadn’t been drafted into the pros and had chosen to go to college instead.

We went to different universities, and our paths diverged.

Jeong In-gyu had studied sports psychology and injury treatment diligently, which allowed him to become a baseball coach at his alma mater as soon as he graduated.

I had assumed he was enjoying working with his juniors, but that wasn’t necessarily the case.

I refilled his empty glass.

Then I raised my glass, signaling for another drink.

We didn’t say anything for a while, but it felt like we were communicating volumes.