mama (1)
The second ga on the day I took the mound for the first ti ended with our team winning 5 to 2, led by Kim Jae-beom's ho run and strong performances from the pitchers.
Fortunately, it seed like the head coach's mood had improved a bit.
Even after the ga, we continued with stamina training.
The fielders, having played both gas, looked a little tired, but couldn't show it openly.
Among them, Jo Sung-gyu looked the most downcast. He seed unable to co to terms with his own performance.
One bullpen pitcher, who didn't allow a single baserunner over one inning, appeared pretty excited, but I rembered how he and I had bounced back and forth between the second team and never managed to secure a spot in the first team.
Anyway, we played two more gas the next day.
In the first ga, Hwang Seung-tae pitched three innings with one hit allowed, one walk, four strikeouts, and no runs.
Jung Han-seung's four-seam velocity stayed in the low 130s km/h, but he managed to hang on with his command.
In the final ga, another foreign pitcher, Harold Bradshaw, took the mound.
The veteran lefty Bradshaw's velocity was in the low to mid-140s km/h, but his weighty cutter and changeup, along with a sweeper (a type of horizontal slider) against left-handed batters, were very effective.
Anyway, that's how the first spring camp ended.
We were headed to Japan for more training and a few practice gas, after which we would return to Korea.
After the exhibition gas held in Korea, the regular league would begin.
Honestly, I felt uneasy. Would I be able to perform well, or would I one day be struck by an injury I couldn't overco?
In the end, I concluded that I just had to keep focusing on training in order to avoid injury and improve.
"Oh, Jo-kka. It's good to see your muscles working hard."
Timothy Goldberg said this as he watched working out late into the night before we left for Japan.
I did flinch a little at his pronunciation...
"Please teach more about how to train my muscles to prevent injury."
I ended up inviting trouble myself.
"A great mindset."
* * *
The second spring camp in Japan is packed with practice gas.
Since so many Korean pro teams gather here, it's easy to find opponents if schedules match up.
Sotis, we even get to play practice gas against Japanese teams.
But, well, a practice ga is still just a practice ga.
Just because you do well in a practice ga doesn't guarantee you'll do well in the regular season, and winning here doesn't count toward your season record.
Still, for the coaching staff, it's a valuable ti to sketch out the opening day roster for the season, and for the players hoping to secure a spot on the first team, it's their chance to make an impression.
"In the practice gas, how about you mostly throw four-seams and sliders?"
Father looked a little tired. He rubbed his eyes once with his hand and continued.
"That's what the other teams will think. 'Ah, he only throws fastballs and sliders?' But once the regular season starts, that's when you bring out the two-seam and the changeup."
He laughed as he said it.
I thought it wasn't a bad idea.
Rookies always have sothing to learn from each and every ga. Of course, things could also turn out for the worse.
But I wasn't a true rookie.
It was a scenario to add so unpredictability to my character—a gutsy high-school graduate rookie who challenged the pros with only a fastball and a slider.
Then, I'd pull out the two-seam and the changeup one after the other, throwing the league's hitters into confusion.
If things went according to plan, I thought I could survive for at least a year.
Originally, I was also a contender for Rookie of the Year.
To be honest, the other candidates had better stats.
Soone said this:
"I'm not even on that level, but they called a Rookie of the Year rival just because they felt sorry for the Gangwon Miners."
Thinking back, I nodded to myself.
"That sounds fun."
Father laughed out loud.
"See, living a second life is great."
"What do you an?"
"No matter how vaguely you say things, we understand each other perfectly."
"The other pitchers can't?"
"That's what I don't get."
I don't think he used to say things like that before he beca the pitching coach, but that's the way it is when you're soone who's lived twice.
I've learned a bit about not lingering in the past... not sure using those words like this is quite right, but oh well.
"Father."
"Yes?"
"Do you have a goal?"
"A goal?"
I decided not to press and just waited.
After all, people living their second life can understand each other perfectly, no matter how unclearly you talk.
"Hmm."
Father stroked his chin, gave a quick once-over, and answered.
"After conquering the KBO, should I take you to the U. S. and try being a head coach in the Major Leagues?"
"Really?"
"Why, what's your goal?"
"I don't really know. I just wanted to play baseball again, that's all."
"Then you take my goal as yours, too."
I did have a good run in the KBO, but it wasn't for that long, and I don't think I could ever do as well as Father in the MLB.
"Alright, I'll do that."
Father smiled, as if he'd been expecting that answer. Did he take it as a sign of confidence?
My thoughts are a bit different. I might not even make it to the MLB, and even if I do, I could fail.
But so what if I can't?
If I fail, I fail. That's different from not trying. Now, I'm not afraid of failing anymore.
I know now that being unable to even try, not failure itself, is the truly frightening thing.
"But are you really confident about conquering the KBO?"
"Hmm..."
After thinking for a mont, father said,
"To be honest."
"Yes?"
"I've been away from the KBO for so long, I don't really know."
"Ah."
"And it's different from when I played. There were only ten teams back then."
"Mhm."
"But still, if you just do what I did, wouldn't that be enough?"
"?"
"What, are you chickening out?"
Father tried to provoke , but that kind of provocation doesn't work on .
I know I'm not on that level.
"Sure."
Father looked truly surprised at my response.
"What did you just say...?"
"How could I ever do what you did?"
"Well, at least say it..."
"If it's impossible, it's impossible."
Father heaved a deep sigh and shook his head.
"A second-life son who threw away his fighting spirit..."
"You can just say I'm second-life and realistic."
Anyway, the head coach apparently decided to give one of the starting spots.
The two foreign pitchers, , and Hwang Seung-tae—four total.
"Who's the last spot?"
When I asked, father grinned and said,
"I'm going to rotate this guy and that guy. Until I find the best one."
"Makes sense..."
In the KBO, there are hardly any teams that manage to keep a five-man starting rotation stable. Injuries and slumps are inevitable.
"I have a pretty good idea about the pitching side."
"It might get a little noisy, though?"
If things go according to Father's plan, probably.
Among the four big-na FA starters the Miners had brought in, one retired, and of the remaining three, their fates...
One would be sent down to the second team, another relegated to long relief for losing gas, and the last one, for the first ti in his career, would beco a closer.
For high-paid players, being in the second team for reasons other than injury ans half of their salary is lost, proportionally by days.
Father planned to stash Bang Min-soo in the second team if he failed to lose weight.
"What can you do? You just have to accept it."
Father added with a strange laugh,
"And what if they don't accept it?"
Well, true. If they try to take it out on for no reason... So what? Unlike before, I have the confidence now not to care about such trivial things.
"On another subject."
"What?"
"Bradshaw was throwing a sweeper."
"Yeah. Why?"
"Teach , please."
"Is it that necessary?"
"Are you not confident? Are you chicken?"
I tried a bit of cheeky revenge, though it didn't really fit the context.
The deal didn't go through, though. Father rely chuckled and replied,
"The sweeper, you see, is based on a theory in aerodynamics called seam-shifted wake—"
"......"
"The pitcher adjusts the axis of rotation, making use of the seams to create horizontal movent—"
"So you can't teach ?"
"No, it's just that the sweeper varies by pitcher, so you can't teach it in a standardized way, that's the conclusion—"
"Ah."
"Do you get it?"
"Yes, I get that you can't teach the sweeper."
"Co on, let's go."
"Where?"
"To the training ground."
* * *
Not all 12 KBO teams had gathered in Japan, but I still saw a number of familiar faces during practice gas.
Among those I knew, most were in the Miners, but I'd been in the KBO a long ti, after all.
Early in my career, I didn't get along well with my teammates.
When I was over thirty, I beca close with so friends, so of whom are still just middle or high school students now.
Anyway, during the practice gas, it seed like the head coach was making an effort to let go a bit.
He tried not to get upset about wins and losses. Still...
"Losing? It's just a practice ga, so I can let that slide a million tis. But can I let it slide when you forget to cover first base?"
This is the sort of thing the head coach would never overlook.
"Errors? They happen. Technical mistakes are tolerable, but if it's because you weren't paying attention, that's an act of defiance or rebellion against the coach, isn't it?"
The pitcher who failed to cover first base had to do nothing but fielding drills for three days without throwing a single pitch, and the infielder who mistook the number of outs and strolled to the dugout without trying for a double play was sent to the second team's stadium back in Korea.
The big difference from the past is that nowadays, none of the coaching staff shield a player who spaces out just because they're a senior mber.
That alone creates a distinctly different atmosphere.
"Hey! Ye Ji-hoon! I'm going to go back to the dorm and write my last will and testant! If I die from high blood pressure because of Ye Ji-hoon, it's all his fault!"
As the season approached, the frequency of the head coach's outbursts grew.
"Park Tae-ki, I wonder if I'll ever get to see you throw a strike at full count in my lifeti... Honestly, what are you? You're an assassin, aren't you? Huh!"
Father quietly remarked to ,
"Doesn't our old man look good, not holding back?"
"I'm a little worried, actually."
"It's fine, he's always like that. If a person suddenly changes, it's a sign they're about to die. If you see him pat a guy on the backside, smiling after an error, you better call 911 right away, got it?"
In retrospect, it made sense.
The head coach once ended up in the hospital after reassuring a player who'd blown a pickoff at the end of the ga, telling him not to lose confidence, then kept laughing it off for days.
"But Dad, why were you so obsessed with winning?"
That's sothing Father and the head coach have in common. An intense desire to win.
Father looked at strangely, as if wondering why I'd ask.
"If you're going to play, of course you want to win. We're not working out all day just to lose, are we? Go, give the coach's shoulders a rub. He might actually collapse."
The head coach really did seem to like a lot.
It made a little uncomfortable when he was so openly affectionate, but I decided to just be grateful and did as Father said.
"What is it? Ah, it's Ye-sung? Hey, pitching coach! My hands are hurting, you co here and do it!"
"That's my other self, so feel free to use ."
"Oh, this kid!"
In the last practice ga, Park Tae-ki got into trouble by throwing too many balls and nearly blew the ga in the early innings.
After the ga, he ca up to thank .
"Excuse ? For what...?"
"Hah... I was prepared to get chewed out by the coach, but you lightened the mood in the dugout, didn't you? Anyway, thanks. I'll buy you a al when we get back to Korea."
Is this what people an when they say, "No matter what a popular guy does, it works out"?
Anyway.
Gu Hyun-im, who pitched after him, fired four-seams at 154 km/h and mixed in curves that, though not too sharp, dropped below the zone.
1 inning, 1 hit, 2 walks, 2 strikeouts, no runs.
"Hyun-im's pitching looks good. Would be even better if you just threw it right down the middle."
"Thank you."
Hmm...
He seed pleased with not allowing any runs and picking up a couple of strikeouts, but the head coach didn't look that happy.
Terry gave up 1 run in 1 inning, but, compared to Gu Hyun-im, the head coach's expression actually brightened a bit.
He threw the four-seam at 154 km/h, and his 148 km/h two-seam confused the batters.
One inning, one hit.
No strikeouts, but that one hit was a ho run, so he allowed a run.
"Fuck."
He seed upset at giving up the ho run. But he didn't yell or throw his glove.
"When Dad doesn't say anything, that ans you did well."
"Really?"
"One hundred percent."
He seed to cheer up a little at my words.
Throughout the practice gas, I focused on pitching mainly with four-seams and sliders, and also mixed in curves—not using the repertoire I planned for real gas—to get my sense back.
I kept working on my two-seam and changeup during training.
As for the sweeper, I was still practicing; while I was getting a feel for it, I didn't have enough consistency to try it in a real ga yet.
Now it's really the ho stretch.
After the exhibition gas in Korea end, I'll have my second official debut ga.
And it will co sooner than expected.
I still don't know if I'm ready, but the season always cos like that.
All I can do is keep pitching, and I ca back to the past because I wanted to pitch.
"Son! Didn't you miss your mom?"
And then, I was finally ho. I opened my arms wide and hugged Mother, who was smiling at .
"I missed you."
"Really? Really? My son, you've been through so much!"
"... Honey, what about ?"
Hiding behind Mother, I looked at Father and grinned.
Seems like there's at least one thing in which I can beat Father.
His look was sothing else.
Maybe even more so than when I teased him about not knowing how to teach the sweeper?
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