"Mr. Izumi, let pitch an inning, please. My arm is almost completely healed—"
"I beg you, coach. If I don’t even have the chance to face opponents of this caliber, what’s the point of this exchange ga?"
Standing in the Waseda Jitsugyo players’ rest area, Lin Guanglai surrounded Coach Izumi Minoru, constantly pleading with him to allow him to pitch.
Ever since the autumn tournant semifinals of the National Academy Kugayama, Lin Guanglai had beco the "most unwelco person" in the eyes of the team’s coach and pitching coach:
For nearly half a month, all his pitching training was canceled. Even the practice was just so low-intensity, recovery exercises, and only recently, in the last couple of days, returned to normal;
As for making an appearance in official gas, that was even more out of the question.
It’s a universal truth of humanity that many things are only cherished once lost—though playing as a batter during this ti and helping the team score felt good, the feeling of standing on the pitcher’s mound was unparalleled.
Especially during this exchange training, with nurous strong pitchers and even more powerful hitters—honestly, deep down Lin Guanglai felt an itch; his desire to return to the mound grew stronger as the training progressed.
Facing the tough stance of Coach Izumi Minoru, Lin Guanglai put on a pitiful appearance in his desperation to pitch even one inning—raising one finger with a woeful expression, he pleaded:
"Just one inning, let pitch one inning, coach. My pitching arm is really almost completely healed!"
Facing Lin Guanglai’s incessant "harassnt," even Mr. Izumi, who was used to facing tough situations, found it hard to resist; glaring at his student with frustration, Izumi Minoru said:
"You brat, you’re driving crazy—go on, warm-up quickly!"
With permission from his coach, Lin Guanglai swiftly ran to warm up—no kidding, why wait around to provoke the coach further when he’s already earned the opportunity he wanted? Lin Guanglai was not that kind of person.
After a good warm-up, Lin Guanglai returned to the pitcher’s mound after half a month—feeling the solid touch of the mound beneath his feet, he was montarily overwheld: the view from the pitcher’s mound was indeed far superior to right field, with even the air tasting sweeter.
Once his emotions cald down a bit, Lin Guanglai focused his attention on the batter to the right of the ho plate—in this inning, Yokohama High School’s first three batters lined up directly against their central lineup, presenting quite a challenge for the rusty Lin Guanglai.
Standing in the left batter’s box, Kondo Kensuke kept a serious gaze on Lin Guanglai as well.
After nearly a week of eating, living, and training together, Kondo Kensuke had grown to like this younger brother by a year—a great personality and highly skilled at baseball, if it weren’t for that face causing too much jealousy, he might have considered becoming sworn brothers with Lin Guanglai.
He knew very well that Lin Guanglai could pitch, and quite well—in fact, anyone with an interest in high school baseball knew this, considering that such a feat of pitching a no-hitter as a first-year and securing wins in the Sumr甲 tournant is rare in over ninety years.
Just like Lin Guanglai, filled with fighting spirit, Yokohama’s captain Kondo Kensuke had long wanted a direct confrontation with Lin Guanglai on the field; if it weren’t for his forced rest, he might have sought him out on the first day of training.
While Yokohama High School had a deep roster of pitchers, boasting two at the ace level, none were quite like Lin Guanglai, the most traditional type of pitcher.
A high-pressure style, nurous fastballs, one or two well-executed breaking balls—aside from encountering the powerful Tokai University Sagami’s Sugano Tomoyuki during his first year, Kondo Kensuke hadn’t faced many powerful traditional pitchers.
Behind ho plate, the umpire for this match was Kiyonokura Academy’s Tsuchiya Keisaburo. Once he confird that both sides were ready, he pointed his right hand towards the pitcher’s mound and loudly declared:
"Play Ball!"
In the next second, a fastball was thrown, precise and swift, landing securely on the outside of the strike zone for the left-handed Kondo Kensuke—the pitch was so fast that Kondo Kensuke didn’t even have ti to react before the baseball had already reached Uesugi Yasuyuki’s mitt.
Behind ho plate, Tsuchiya Keisaburo made his decision without hesitation, firmly calling:
"Strike."
"Wuhu—!!!" Cheers erupted from the Waseda Jitsugyo sidelines, with Yagaki Kentaro, who had just been substituted out by Lin Guanglai, expressing his heartfelt admiration: "So fast. Is it my eyesight? Why does it feel like Guanglai’s pitching speed is faster than before?"
No one answered him, as everyone’s attention was captivated by the on-field duel between pitcher and batter.
Though Kondo Kensuke knew that Lin Guanglai’s pitching speed was incredibly fast, that first pitch was still a clear wake-up call to him—stepping out of the batter’s box for a brief adjustnt, Kondo Kensuke resud his batting stance and locked eyes with Lin Guanglai once more.
For the second pitch, Lin Guanglai slowed his pace, not attacking imdiately as before; rubbing the baseball in his hand for a mont, making sure his fingers were properly gripping the seams, he exchanged a glance with Uesugi Yasuyuki, nodded, and then threw the ball.
Ready and unafraid, Kondo Kensuke boldly swung at the incoming ball, showing no hesitation.
"Whizz—!!!" The baseball scraped against the tal bat, producing a slightly harsh frictional sound, then soared high, landing behind the field.
"Foul ball."
A strike, followed by a foul ball—two good pitches had the batter, Kondo Kensuke, standing on the edge of a cliff; one more strike and he would be out.
It was the top of the seventh inning, with his team trailing by a run. After a brief mont of weighing his options, Kondo Kensuke decided to shift his grip up the bat by about a fist’s length.
In a sense, a shorter grip indicates that the batter has no imdiate strategies against the pitcher, opting instead to bunt to try to get on base—a tactic not usually chosen by confident batters, as it suggests temporary surrender.
However, Kondo Kensuke carried no such concerns: swinging a grand bat may seem appealing, but when necessary, abandoning pride and advancing with base hits is also a valid strategy.
With this in mind, Kondo Kensuke indeed made contact with the baseball: the outside pitch from Lin Guanglai had slight deviations, but Kondo Kensuke’s bat steadily connected;
The distinct feedback of the bat vibrated in his hands, reminding him that this pitcher was different from previous traditional ones—the quality of these pitches couldn’t be resolved rely by shortening the grip.
Even with a solid contact, Kondo Kensuke was unable to produce a clean hit—the baseball weakly rolled towards first base, where Hagiyama Mitsuo fielded it cleanly into his glove, stepped on the base, and threw him out.
The rest of the ga proceeded without many surprises, 3:2, Waseda Jitsugyo maintained their one-run lead—tied with Yokohama at 2 wins, 1 loss, and claid the first place in this four-school training camp with their head-to-head advantage.
After the ga, as players were finishing their showers and getting ready for dinner, Kondo Kensuke walked up to Lin Guanglai, throwing an arm around his neck, and exclaid:
"Guanglai, you rascal, who knew you could pitch so well!!!"
To this, Lin Guanglai responded with a "hehe" smile.
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