Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 37

Tryouts continued, and with each game that ended, the number of players at the camp dwindled.

“Damn it… I did well this time.”

“I told you to pack your bags in advance.”

“Shut up, Stevens. You’ll be down here soon too.”

Lee Jungwoo watched the disgruntled players leave, then turned around with a stern expression.

‘I don’t know when I’ll be sent down either.’

Starting with the Toronto game, he played four games as a defensive replacement and pinch hitter, accumulating five plate appearances.

He had three hits, one home run, and four RBIs.

He contributed well and did his part on defense, but Lee Jungwoo couldn’t relax. The departures were a constant reminder of the stakes.

That’s why he didn’t neglect training for a moment.

‘I might need a new weapon, just in case.’

It wouldn’t hurt to prepare for the unexpected, so Lee Jungwoo considered a new approach.

One was hitting to the opposite field.

His hitting was extremely one-sided. Out of ten swings, he would pull the ball nine times.

The remaining one time, he would push it to the opposite field, but even then, it was more like hitting with his wrist without any real technique.

‘The results are good, so it might not matter, but I need to prepare in advance.’

“Good thinking. The more versatile a hitter is, the tougher it is for the pitcher.”

“Yes, I know.”

When Lee Jungwoo nodded seriously, Colson, the hitting coach, smiled awkwardly.

“Oh, right. You were a pitcher, so you probably know better than me. I was trying to teach a fish how to swim.”

Colson, the hitting coach, smiled awkwardly and then, as if trying to shake off his embarrassment, taught him even more actively. Perhaps because there was no basic foundation to unlearn,

Lee Jungwoo quickly followed along.

Unlike his extreme hitting style, Lee Jungwoo’s form itself was very straightforward.

It wasn’t biased in any direction, which made it easier to adjust.

So, while Colson, the hitting coach, taught him with a happy heart and rejoiced at his remarkable growth, there was someone who tilted his head in confusion.

“3.99 seconds. He’s definitely fast…”

The base-running coach looked at Lee Jungwoo with an incomprehensible expression.

Lee Jungwoo’s other potential weapon, along with hitting to the opposite field, was stealing bases.

There was nothing as attractive as a slugger with great speed.

The base-running coach readily accepted the idea, but unfortunately, there was no improvement.

“포츠! 스위프트! 리치! [Potts! Swift! Leach! – Calling out the players’ names] Let’s go one more time!”

“Yes, sir!”

As the base-running coach shouted, the pitcher, catcher, and second baseman nodded briefly.

Speed training combined with stolen base defense training.

The players took their positions as if it were a real game.

Lee Jungwoo, who had been panting from running from home plate, caught his breath and took his stance again.

‘This time, I have to….’

Lee Jungwoo glared at the mound.

The pitcher, Nathan Potts, pitched from a set position as if it were a real game.

Immediately, Lee Jungwoo stole the base.

The catcher, having received the ball, threw it immediately.

‘This time—’

“Too late.”

He ran as if his lungs would burst to second base, which seemed within reach, but the second baseman lightly tagged him with his glove.

The ball had already arrived.

“Ah… damn it.”

Lee Jungwoo stopped and gasped for air.

‘I seem to be fast… but *only* fast.’

That’s how Lee Jungwoo described himself.

When measuring the time from home to first base, the MLB [Major League Baseball] left-handed hitter average is 4.2 seconds.

So, at 3.99 seconds, Lee Jungwoo’s base running speed could be considered quite fast.

In fact, even just looking at it, his speed is good.

His base running is fast, and the sprints he shows during defense are also at a considerable level.

But that’s it. He lacked the finesse and timing.

Leaving the field, Desmond Leach, the catcher who had been throwing the ball to him, approached Lee Jungwoo, who was walking wearily.

“Lee, you’re really easy to catch. If all the runners were like you, I’d have a stolen base percentage close to 40 percent, you know?”

“Yeah, catch as many as you can.”

“How is it? Can’t you get a feel for the timing at all?”

“No. It’s not working out.”

“Hmm… well, this is a matter of instinct. But still, there’s something you can’t force.”

Desmond chuckled and patted him on the shoulder with a slightly more friendly expression.

Lee Jungwoo pushed him away slightly and scratched his beardless chin.

‘Is it about 60 percent? That’s ridiculously low.’

Lee Jungwoo’s stolen base ability was poor.

He succeeded about six times out of ten attempts, and even those six times were made by forcibly avoiding the tag with his quick feet and athleticism.

Compared to hitting, where a .300 batting average is considered good, 60% might seem very high, but unless the success rate is over 75%, the consensus is that it’s better not to steal bases at all.

So, Lee Jungwoo’s stolen base attempts were simply unusable.

The reason was timing.

“You can’t get the timing at all. There’s no choice. For now, it’s better to seal it away.”

“I guess so, right?”

“Don’t be too disappointed. It’s good enough if you play good defense and run the bases well.”

The base-running coach tried to encourage him, but Lee Jungwoo couldn’t hide his disappointment and walked wearily.

Being a pitcher, he knew well how difficult a hitter with stolen base ability is from a pitcher’s perspective.

To be more precise and intense, how annoying it is.

‘If I keep training steadily, I’ll get a feel for it someday.’

Thinking that, Lee Jungwoo, who had sealed away stealing bases for the time being, looked up at the sky.

Florida in March was disgustingly hot.

####

Lee Jungwoo looked nervous.

The starting lineup would be out soon, and he really wanted to be in it this time.

‘It’s finally Boston. I have to start no matter what.’

Lee Jungwoo, who had been waiting with a desperate heart, had an expression full of anticipation whenever the coaches called him, only to be disappointed.

That was repeated.

Just as he was getting a little tired, the head coach called him.

“Lee!”

“Yes! Coach.”

Unlike before, Lee Jungwoo, who had only a faint expectation, ran to the head coach and looked at him as if asking why he had called him.

“You’ve been training diligently. Is your stamina okay?”

“Yes. I’m young, so I’m full of energy.”

The head coach chuckled as if it was funny that a mere twenty-year-old was saying he was young and full of energy.

He watched him for a moment, and then got to the point.

“Then you’ll be fine. You’re starting at shortstop in the next game, so be prepared.”

“Ah… yes! Thank you.”

“What thanks? It’s because you’re doing well. Work hard and crush those Boston guys.”

Lee Jungwoo walked out into the hallway and shivered.

The moment he had been waiting for had come.

He had always played only a little bit, one at-bat, two innings. His body was itching like crazy, and he only felt a frustrating sense of anticipation, but it finally paid off.

Lee Jungwoo, unable to hide his joy, twitched his lips and slapped his cheek pretty hard.

‘No, no. I can’t be like this already. It’s just a tryout game.’

He regained his composure.

It’s nothing yet.

It only matters if he does well.

If he made a mistake because of his giddy mood, it would be worse than not playing at all.

Then the expectations that had been built up would collapse.

“Let’s do well, this time too.”

Lee Jungwoo rubbed his tingling cheek and muttered the words that had become natural.

####

JetBlue Park at Fenway South.

Before the away game, when preparations were in full swing, Lee Jungwoo sat next to Derek and listened to his story. Derek slowly told him what he knew.

“We only meet occasionally through interleague play, so I don’t know the details, but in my experience, Red Sox left-handed hitters often hit to the opposite field. The cleanup hitters too.”

“That means they hit not only to the right field but also to the third base side or to the center.”

“They all have good contact. But don’t be nervous. Just keep it in mind. Help the third baseman well.”

It was data that he had accumulated over nine years of experience since he first came up to the majors at the age of 21, so Lee Jungwoo absorbed the words as if listening to the words of the Bible.

Each of these things creates comfortable and good plays.

“Most of the pitchers are power pitchers, but they all throw changeups well. Especially the circle changeup. It looks like a fastball, but it’s good to think about it one more time. Of course, you know you can’t get caught up in it, right?”

“I know. Because that’s self-destruction.”

“Yeah, you’re smart. And the outfielders…”

Of course, he didn’t intend to blindly trust the data and be swallowed up by it.

‘Because everyone is different.’

It’s not about positions like shortstop and second baseman.

Just as there are a hundred ways if there are a hundred players, their perspectives are bound to be different.

Knowing that well, he filtered the advice appropriately and spurred on his game preparation.

“Lee, let’s do well today! Hit a home run no matter what. I’ll hit one too, okay?”

While he was listening to the story, Desmond, who suddenly appeared, said with a lively expression.

‘Ah, come to think of it, he was in the starting lineup too.’

Since the starting catcher was certain, and there were several backups, he hadn’t had many chances until now.

Desmond Leach, who got his first chance to start today with Lee Jungwoo, seemed to be in a very good mood.

He greeted everyone cheerfully and then, as a last stop, came to Lee Jungwoo, shouting with a face that seemed to be flying in the sky.

“Ah, yeah. Let’s do well.”

‘But was there a guy like this?’

Lee Jungwoo watched him for a moment and tilted his head at the sudden thought.

He didn’t have the mental capacity to care about the draft picks around this time.

He doesn’t remember the guys who succeeded greatly later on, unless it’s someone like Adam Straight, who they’re facing today.

What’s certain is that the name Desmond was very faint in Lee Jungwoo’s mind.

He seemed to have been with him for a very short time in Single A [a minor league level in baseball].

He doesn’t know what happened after that.

‘Looking at his skills, he’s a guy who will succeed someday. Did he suffer an injury or something?’

From what he’s seen so far, his speed isn’t very good. He’s not a 5-tool player [a player who excels at hitting for average, hitting for power, running, fielding, and throwing], but he’s a 4-tool player with contact, power, defense, and arm strength.

His catching ability was also good.

But since he doesn’t remember him, it was a little strange.

‘Not all of the top draft picks succeed, but if a guy like this failed, there must be a reason….’

As Lee Jungwoo stared at him and pondered, Desmond, who was also greeting Derek, was grabbed by him.

“You came at the right time. Do you want to listen too? I was telling him about the Red Sox guys.”

“Oh… I’m okay. Haha. Then continue what you were saying, Captain. Lee! Let’s do well!”

Derek smiled awkwardly as he watched Desmond run away like an arrow.

“Desmond seems to be a similar style to Joey. Well, it’s not bad. There are good examples too.”

Derek turned his head to one side. There was a good example of a genius-type hitter.

Joey Fredman, the fixed third hitter and the team’s main gun, was already eating nuts.

‘Actually, if you look at my hitting style, I’m closer to that side.’

Lee Jungwoo, who was aggressive and often swung according to his feelings, was closer to Joey than Derek, but Lee Jungwoo wanted to learn hitting from Derek.

‘Usually, those kinds of players say that when the ball comes flying, you just hit it.’

Perhaps because of the miraculous prediction he showed in the internal evaluation game, he respected him as a senior and a top-class hitter, but he didn’t want to learn anything.

“Captain, do you know where the bananas are?”

“Instead of candy? Joey, you usually eat candy on Fridays, right?”

“I feel like a banana today.”

“Really? It’s over there.”

When Joey, who had eaten all the nuts, asked, Derek roughly pointed to the basket containing the bananas and focused on Lee Jungwoo again.

Lee Jungwoo chuckled at the very natural sight.

“So, where were we?”

“Hey, Captain. What’s with the banana mood?”

“Lee. Don’t try to know too much. If you stare into the abyss, you might become like that too.”

####

Lee Jungwoo, who scanned the Red Sox players in their respective positions, clicked his tongue.

‘You can call them a dream team. Is this what it takes to build a dynasty?’

Starting this year, they were building the Boston dynasty by winning the World Series three times in five years.

It felt like there were no gaps anywhere on the field.

Of course, there were rotations and minor league players mixed in, but the aura of the starting players erased that immaturity.

‘When else would I get to play against a World Series-winning team?’

The World Series. The ultimate stage that all baseball players crave.

The opportunity to face the players who conquered it had come, and if it went the same way as before the regression, he would be able to face the pitcher who won the Cy Young Award [an award given annually to the best pitchers in Major League Baseball].

Lee Jungwoo smiled fiercely.

‘Let’s do it right. A stadium that’s the same as Fenway Park [a famous baseball stadium in Boston]. It would be fun to hit a home run.’

Knowing that it’s better to face a strong opponent with all your might than to be intimidated, Lee Jungwoo ignited his competitive spirit, and the game began.