Chapter 7

Home Plate's Villain - Chapter 8 (8/363)

# 8

Veteran and Veteran (3)

1

I knocked on the door of the manager's office without hesitation. The door was already open.

The manager, looking tired, invited me to come in and sit down.

I was called here during training. I've been in a few times during the spring training period.

But back then, most of the conversations were about training advice or my physical condition.

This time, it seems like it will be a different kind of talk. Since the exhibition games start tomorrow, I think he might be telling me to join a minor league team.

I'd prefer to go to one of the higher minor leagues, but I have to go where they send me. I don't have much of a choice.

"Bin."

"Yes, Manager."

"You're a really good player. The coaches praise you a lot, and the veterans speak highly of you. Especially Gavin, he really likes you. I like you too. You never rush, which is unlike a young player."

"Thank you."

Who said Yankees are honest?

Honest? More like Yankees' flattery. They can manipulate people with their clever flattery.

If they praise me like this and then tell me to go to the minor league, it might backfire...

"So, I'm going to give you a chance in the exhibition games."

"Really?"

"This doesn't mean you're on the opening day roster. I want to make that clear. Got it? Why the look on your face?"

"No, no, it's fine."

"Hmm. I don't want to put too much pressure on young players."

I agree. It's more about securing a position firmly.

I think I still need some preparation. It would be great to move quickly, but there's no need to rush.

"Anyway, you'll play at least two games in the exhibition series. We'll talk again after that. Don't take this decision too seriously."

Pressure? No, I think it's great.

Even if I mess up in the game, I'm just an 18-year-old kid who's been in the U.S. for a few weeks.

If I do well, it'll be a big deal.

Even if it's just two games, the fact that they're giving me a chance is evidence that the club has high expectations for me. If I perform the same in the minors, I might get some extra points.

Of course, it also shows that the club's catching situation is a mess.

"Thank you. I'll go now."

"Alright. Don't overdo it. Sometimes you need a break."

2

To be clear about my situation, my physical condition is quite good. Young and fresh... there's no downside. I've been training hard, to the point where people around me are worried, but I have the stamina.

And the 20 years of catching experience I've accumulated needs a bit more integration with American baseball, but I think a little bit of actual play will be fine.

I think I need a bit more adjustment for hitting than for defense. My swing isn't as sharp as it should be. Compared to my original 18-year-old self, it's incomparable, but it feels a bit far from my prime.

Giving me a chance to play at least two games in the exhibition series is excellent in that sense.

I'm very curious to see how well my young body and mind will harmonize and how well they will perform at the major league level (even if it's just an exhibition game).

Hey, but what if I do well in the exhibition games?

ㅇㅅㅇ: ...?

ㅇㅅㅇ: It has to be an official game.

ㅇㅅㅇ: You're not an amateur.

ㅇㅅㅇ: Talk some sense.

ㅇㅅㅇ: Before I punch you.

3

The opening game of the exhibition series against the New York Yankees ended in a 5-4 loss.

It's just an exhibition game, but the Phillies fans started cursing as if they were waiting for it.

Do they watch baseball just to curse? Well, I've seen this a lot in Korea too. Most players don't care, except for a few.

Two days later, the night before the game against the Detroit Tigers, I got a hint that I might be substituted into the game in the middle of the game.

Even for me, who has played over 2,500 games in the Korean first division, my first game in the U.S. caused a bit of nervousness.

In this game, our Double-A pitcher Jeff was pulled after two innings, giving up three hits, five walks, and four runs. Jeff looked very dejected, probably sensing he was headed to the minors.

The next pitcher also got hit hard, and by the end of the fifth inning, the score was 7-1, with us trailing.

John, who started as the catcher, had already struck out and hit into a double play. Gavin, who had been watching the game, tapped me on the shoulder.

"Kid, get ready. It's your turn."

I nodded, and Gavin pointed to the pitcher coming out of the opposing dugout.

"If Ron doesn't get replaced, swing at the first pitch. Ron likes to throw fastballs down the middle to rookies he's meeting for the first time."

Ron is the right-handed pitcher who got the last out in the previous inning. He's giving me advice because John is up to bat next inning.

"He's an idiot who thinks he's still a fastball pitcher even though his velocity has dropped with age. His pitches are four-seam, two-seam, and changeup. A kid like you can handle them now. This kind of thing doesn't show up in scouting reports."

"Thanks, Gavin."

A little later, as Gavin had predicted, the coach told me to get ready to bat.

I put on my helmet, put on my elbow guard, and grabbed my bat.

Hmm. Full swing at the middle?

"Hit it! Then I'll buy you a beer!"

Gavin said this to encourage me, but...

"Hey, Gavin. My kid is only 18 and can't drink alcohol."

Scott Kiesler, who had been listening to our conversation, shouted.

Gavin, looking incredulous, asked the coach if it was true, and then awkwardly tapped the dugout railing.

"What? Really? Damn. Okay, kid! If you hit it, I'll buy you a cranberry juice!"

Really?

I can't drink alcohol in the U.S.?

In Korea, I could drink at 20.

4

Bases empty, runner on first. The opposing team didn't change their pitcher for my at-bat.

Alex, the Triple-A third baseman, was pinch-running for Ryan, who had walked, and was ready to steal second from first base.

The bench's instruction was to swing hard.

With a six-run lead, it's not a stressful situation for me.

'Not a stressful situation?'

To avoid looking cocky, I held back a smile as I walked to the plate. Should I just swing away? If I swing wildly and get out, I can blame Gavin. If I hit a home run, it's my skill; if I don't, it's Gavin's fault.

"Hey, kid. Did you come to the ballpark to play? Did you ask your dad for a hot dog?"

The opposing catcher taunted me.

What, in just an exhibition game, you're trying to break a rookie's spirit?

Should I act like a intimidated rookie?

I just looked at the catcher without saying anything. When our eyes met, I subtly turned my head, nodded lightly to the umpire, and stepped into the batter's box.

"Did a corpse step into the batter's box? You don't look like you can hit the ball properly at all."

I tried to act serious but ended up smiling.

As the pitcher went into his set position, I twisted my wrist inward and raised my bat almost to my cheek.

I don't think Gavin's advice is 100% correct. In baseball, there's no 100%, ever.

But for some reason, I just decided to follow Gavin's advice and swung with my whole body.

I twisted my feet completely and followed through with the swing, almost touching my heel.

Completely, freely. I just wanted to try it this way.

Smack!

Did you hear that?

The sound of the ball hitting the bat? Everyone opened their mouths and watched the ball's trajectory. The sight of the catcher who had been taunting me with his mouth open was quite satisfying.

This is the famous two-run, three-RBI hit.

Did you see that, Yankees?