The Yakult Swallows’ supervisor, Shigeru Takada, was even more impressive, ultimately helping the team to secure this potential new star—a number of Swallows fans who have been following Tetsuro Yamada are already dreaming of a bright future, imagining him becoming "Mr. Swallow," taking over the legendary number 1 jersey of the team, and hitting ho run after ho run at Shengong Stadium to help the Swallows obtain the honor of being Japan’s Number One...
Equally pleased was Lin Guanglai in front of the television—as a constant roommate during his stay in the U.S., Lin Guanglai had established a considerable friendship with Tetsuro Yamada.
Now, seeing his good friend and senior being selected by the professional team as their first pick, how could he not be happy?
"When Yamada-san cos to Tokyo in the future, he must treat to dinner—I’m the most familiar with the Shengong Stadium area."
With these thoughts in mind, Lin Guanglai continued watching the draft session on TV.
On the other side of the venue, the room arranged by the organizers was enormous, large enough to accommodate hundreds of participating players—but this did not an that everyone present would be selected by a professional team.
After all, regardless of the circumstances, selecting a player requires the team owner to spend real money to pay the contract fees and salaries, so managers and supervisors of each team will only choose relevant players according to the team’s needs; oftentis, in all of Japan, only about 100 baseball players can be selected.
On the large screen in the center of the room, the host continued to call nas—the draft eting had reached its latter stages, with many teams already choosing to give up their drawing qualifications and refrain from picking players.
For those present, this ant that their chance to beco professional players was becoming increasingly slim:
Wherever the cara passed, many players who initially appeared confident now looked dejected; others were continually praying, hoping that heaven would grant them a chance.
Sitting in the luxurious hotel room, Kai Tatsuya and Chika Huangda were solemn, sitting at the end of the players’ seats.
They felt sowhat restless—don’t get them wrong, the two had a clear understanding of their own abilities and were not praying for a team to give them a formal contract; on the contrary, they were waiting for the start of the developntal player selection.
Unlike those players who, once selected, had inco security and a formal roster spot, the so-called developntal players were even less than second-team players:
They received much less pay with little security; they couldn’t enter the team’s 70-man roster and could only practice and play gas with semi-professional or club teams; even if they perford exceptionally, they could at most reach the second team; most developntal players might never even co close to the first team in their entire lives.
Most importantly, developntal players didn’t even have the right to choose a double-digit jersey number—according to the rules of Nihon Professional Baseball for developntal players, they must use a "humiliating" triple-digit number until they earn the team’s recognition and are registered on the official roster to change it.
But for these two young people who had just graduated high school, none of this was a big deal—they wanted, and all they wanted, was a chance to beco professional players.
It’s worth ntioning that Chika Huangda and Kai Tatsuya didn’t know each other before; this was their first eting; but their similar experiences and comparable psychological expectations allowed the two young n to quickly strike up a conversation and form a bond.
Kai Tatsuya, from Oita Prefecture, initially didn’t plan to continue playing baseball after graduation—after all, as a catcher on the field, he was only about 1.7 ters tall, and in Japan, which increasingly emphasized the batting skills of catchers, his style didn’t seem that appealing.
At that ti, Kai Tatsuya had even found a job at a famous local fried chicken shop, starting to learn how to cashier, fry chicken pieces, and clean the kitchen;
But he would never forget that day—on his fifth day working at the fried chicken shop, his high school supervisor called the shop and, in an unprecedentedly stern tone, commanded him:
"The SoftBank scout is coming to see you play, so right now, imdiately resign from your part-ti job and co back to play ball!"
The shop owner was a good person and not only agreed to his request but also paid him the full wages for the five days:
"Tatsuya-kun, if you beco a famous player in the future, don’t forget about us, haha—".
The experience of Chika Huangda was quite similar:
Born in the baseball holy land of Aichi Prefecture, Chika Huangda had knee pain due to developnt issues during junior high and hardly played, which kept him from joining his desired school;
His alma mater, Aichi Prefectural Pukun High School, wasn’t a baseball power, and it hadn’t broken through the county’s top eight since 1976;
anwhile, Chika Huangda hadn’t focused much on baseball, even considering boxing or playing soccer.
Today, he could sit together with many famous young players nationwide, and he owed this opportunity to two people:
One was Kaneko Hiroshi, the supervisor at Pugun High School, who discovered Chika Huangda’s pitching talent and converted him from a batter to a pitcher;
The second was a sporting goods store owner nad Nishikawa Shoji—it was he who recomnded Chika to his friend, SoftBank scout Ogawa Kazuo, allowing him to get the attention of professional teams.
The two were well aware that they couldn’t compare to the many talented players present—regardless of their current abilities or high school achievents, they were far behind.
Therefore, they never had any expectations of being selected at the draft eting—from the beginning, they were aiming for the identity of developntal players.
Although the success rate of developing players wasn’t high, these newfound friends, Chika Huangda and Kai Tatsuya, firmly believed that all they needed was a chance, and with enough sweat and effort, developntal players could also beco the backbone of professional baseball.
The fourth round of the developntal player selection was now left with only SoftBank and Giant teams still in the process of choosing players.
The well-funded Fukuoka SoftBank Hawks have, in recent years, placed great emphasis on nurturing young players—for this purpose, they are planning to establish the first-ever third team in Nihon Professional Baseball history next year, with dedicated personnel to lead the team.
In the center of the room, under the na of Fukuoka SoftBank on the large screen, a na that’s both unfamiliar and familiar lit up:
"Chika Huangda (Senga Kodai)."
With his hands clenched, Chika could not conceal the excitent in his heart after receiving this precious opportunity, and he turned to his slightly disheartened new friend, comforting him by saying:
"Kai-kun, don’t worry, you’ll surely be picked!"
Indeed, a few minutes later.
"The sixth round of the developntal player selection, Fukuoka SoftBank Hawks."
"Kai Tatsuya."
The young player who was selected appeared very happy—even though this selection position ant that he was among the least regarded by the team in terms of strength, even among developntal players.
But the young man was not daunted; on the contrary, he was filled with hope for the future.
Kai Tatsuya looked out of the hotel window.
The sun ca out.
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