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Father and Son (3)

Father drank wine with Mother before he had even properly adjusted to the ti difference, and the next day, barely able to open his eyes when he woke up, he said to ,

"Son, want to play catch?"

"Sure."

When was the last ti I played catch with Father?

During those tis we lived together in the U. S., there had been monts when our relationship wasn't all that bad.

"But there's sothing I'm curious about."

"What is it?"

"Weren't you a right-hander?"

Up until I played baseball in the U. S., through middle school, I was a right-handed pitcher.

Then, after returning to Korea, I switched to being a left-hander.

It wasn't easy, but I adapted quickly.

"That's right."

"Was it because left-handed pitchers are valued more?"

In baseball, it's common for right-handers to try pitching with their left.

Left-handed pitchers often have an advantage.

But I had a different reason for switching to my left hand.

I considered making sothing up, but decided to be honest.

I'm rather embarrassed about my past self.

"It's because Father is a right-hander."

"Hm?"

"I an, just... At that ti, I wanted to do everything the opposite of Father."

"Really? You disliked that much?"

I smiled awkwardly. It's funny, but it's the truth.

"And, there's sothing I didn't ntion yesterday."

"What is it?"

"Actually, the reason I kept changing my pitching form and ended up hurting myself everywhere was..."

"Hm?"

"I was desperately trying to throw faster than you, father. I wanted to beat you at sothing, anything."

Back then, I tried to surpass Father's 101 mph (162.54 km/h) four-sear.

"Uh..."

"You don't have to say it. I already know."

Father's stifled cough only made feel more embarrassed about my younger self.

Maybe it was so shocking for Father to hear the reason I switched hands that he said little on the way to the field, speaking up only just before we arrived.

"Well, a left-hander is better than a right-hander."

"......."

"Even if you're pushed to the bullpen as you get older, if you're a lefty, you might last an extra season or two."

"Yes..."

"And, well..."

"No, father, just leave it. It's a dark chapter of mine..."

"Mmm, alright."

Thinking about it again made laugh in disbelief.

When I laughed, father, as if equally dumbfounded, laughed with .

At first, the catch felt awkward but friendly, but as ti went on, both of our competitive spirits lit up, and we threw with all our might.

I was excited, testing my strength, but Father, having retired a few years ago and still feeling the wine from last night, struggled quite a bit.

"This... Is this all you've got? Huh? Is this really all a 19-year-old in his pri's got?"

"Your legs are shaking."

"It's just because it's cold, just cold."

Truthfully, I was also not unscathed, since I have the body of a frail amateur and kept throwing without knowing my limits.

We laughed together, far less awkwardly than at the start.

"By the way, you said you'd help out here in Korea."

"I did."

"How are you going to help?"

"These days, those Major Leaguers play baseball with tons of gear. I'll bring over so equipnt, get people to manage it, and even recruit a catcher..."

"Do we really need to bring a catcher from the U. S.?"

"There's soone. A catcher I know well. Timothy Goldberg."

"Timothy Goldberg?"

"Yeah, if I call, he'll co running right away."

He's the Major League catcher who hit 40 ho runs in a season and won several World Series titles with Father.

So, you're telling you'll call soone like that just to catch for ?

You must be joking.

"Why, do you feel pressured?"

I laughed in disbelief as I answered.

"No. I've always wanted to pitch to soone like that, just once."

"Think I'm just bluffing?"

"No."

"Your face says you think I'm bluffing, doesn't it?"

"Did you learn sothing like mind-reading?"

* * *

"Are you really going to wrap things up?"

"Yeah."

"You're going to tie up everything and live in Korea?"

"I told you so."

Seo Tae-seung saw that his wife, Baek Yoon-ah, brightened up but then looked a bit skeptical, so he smiled wryly.

"It's ti I spent more ti with my family."

Baek Yoon-ah smiled and joked,

"Are you going to be a full-ti househusband now?"

"No, I was thinking of helping Ye-sung."

"How? Planning to get hired as a pitching coach or sothing?"

"That's part of the plan."

"Really?"

"Truly. I'm not lying."

When Seo Tae-seung spoke seriously, Baek Yoon-ah realized he ant it and was surprised.

She'd been wanting to live together in Korea for quite a while, but he had all that work established in the U. S.

"So you really have to sort everything out."

"I'm not joking. Take care of my shares for , will you? And bring Timothy with you on your way."

"Why Timothy?"

"To have him catch for Ye-sung."

"Wow. And I'm going alone?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"I want to spend so ti alone with Ye-sung."

Baek Yoon-ah burst out laughing.

"So, going to take your son to an amusent park..."

"He's almost an adult, you think he'd go to an amusent park with his dad?"

"I'll buy him a balloon..."

"Yeah, right."

"Do so type of parent observation day."

"What are you talking about? Anyway, are you really doing this?"

"Yes, for real."

"You won't regret it?"

"If I don't do it now, I'll end up regretting it even more later."

It was sothing Baek Yoon-ah also wanted, and since things had co this far, she felt she needed to finalize everything quickly before Seo Tae-seung changed his mind.

"Do I just liquidate the shares?"

"Mölln's been itching to buy them."

"I thought you'd rather 'die clutching them' than sell to Mölln?"

"What's the point of that? He'll pay the most."

"Looks like you've finally grown up."

Maybe living a second life, he'd finally beco an adult. Seo Tae-seung nodded, smiling.

If his son had returned to the past before the draft, it might have been fun to try the Major Leagues together.

"But, will they accept you if you want to coach? Don't you need a certification for that?"

As Baek Yoon-ah hastily searched for plane tickets, she asked absentmindedly, causing Seo Tae-seung to take offense.

"What, if Seo Tae-seung offers to coach, they should be bowing in thanks, don't you think?"

Baek Yoon-ah laughed at her husband's reaction.

It was amusing to see Seo Tae-seung's pure-hearted side again, sothing she hadn't seen in ages.

"What happened while I wasn't around, anyway?"

Seo Tae-seung replied with an ambiguous expression.

"Stuff happened. But it's a secret. I'll never tell, even if I die."

"Really?"

Watching Baek Yoon-ah act like it was nothing after asking, Seo Tae-seung almost let his long-held secret slip out, but he held back.

And, with a small voice, he protested,

"I have a lot of certificates, you know?"

"I thought all you had was a driver's license?"

* * *

Mother left for the U. S. to finalize all of Father's business, and Father, in a vague way, beca a one-day coach for my school's baseball team.

"No saying 'Why can't you do this' or 'Why don't you get it.' And don't lose your temper just because you think they're not understanding."

"...... Would I really do that?"

Wasn't it too much to have Father teaching high school pitchers?

He'd never really taught anyone or been involved in baseball since leaving the field.

"Don't overdo it. If it's too much, just autograph so things, take photos, and co ho."

"Why? Think I can't teach them properly?"

"That's what they say about geniuses."

"You worried I'll say, 'Just throw it like this, why can't you do it?'"

"Exactly. Have you ever felt that way?"

He didn't deny it, so maybe he'd felt that way sowhere...

Was it with ?

"Did you feel that way when you were teaching as a kid?"

"Huh?"

Was he shocked?

I think I'm right.

"I actually felt that a lot with other people, not you."

"Really?"

"Really. And, to be honest, I have a few certificates."

"What kind of certificates?"

"You know, ones for coaching."

Father said that, in his spare ti, he had earned so coaching credentials and studied as well.

So that when he eventually helped , he could actually teach the right way, not just haphazardly.

"... Sorry, father."

"No, I wasn't all that great either..."

We beca a bit awkward again. I'm sure this would repeat, but maybe it's part of getting better.

Father wanted to help , but before I returned to the past, that had never happened.

Thinking about it now, I suppose our hot tempers only made matters worse.

Back then, I refused to admit it, but a son always ends up resembling his father, one way or another.

"Tsk. I knew it'd be like this."

When we arrived at the training ground, a few reporters ca into view.

It was all too obvious.

Since retiring, father had never done anything related to Korean baseball.

But now, he's showing up at a high school and coaching young pitchers, even briefly?

What better event could there be to improve the team's image?

"It's all going according to plan, eh?"

Father smiled as he said that.

He had foreseen this, and seed to think it could be helpful.

"I guess so."

I didn't know what Father was scheming, but at this level, I could go along with it.

I stuck noticeably beside Father for the reporters to take our picture.

* * *

"There's no right answer in grip. You guys know Ezekiel Cuorta, right?"

"Yes!"

The baseball team students listened intently to Father's words.

Ezekiel Cuorta was Father's forr MLB teammate, who had earned 400 career saves.

"That kid..."

If anyone else referred to Ezekiel Cuorta as 'that kid' and snickered, they'd be called a pompous braggart, but Father had a bigger career than anyone, so it was fine.

"Had that weird slider, right?"

Laughter erupted among the students.

Ezekiel Cuorta's slider was bizarrely lively, and was called a magic pitch.

"He threw the slider almost like a knuckle curve grip. When I asked why he pitched that way, do you know what he said?"

"No."

"He said, if it wasn't asking, he would have bitten my head off."

There was more laughter. Ezekiel Cuorta had also been known for his quirky, eccentric personality.

"Anyway, as long as it works for you, it doesn't matter if your grip or stance is weird. That's baseball. If you're lucky, following the norm might make you the best, but that's rare."

Father kindly guided each pitcher, one by one.

He corrected things like narrowing the first step for better control, fixing the way the form changed when throwing a curve, shortening the stride, and so on.

He was clearly better at this than I'd expected...

"Your father's totally different from what you told ."

Said Byeong-ju, who'd been my battery mate all three years of high school and, unlike my shaky career, would soon make quite a na for himself as a catcher in the KBO.

He nudged my side.

What did I even say about my father in high school?

Anyway, we'd been pretty close.

Plus, we both got drafted to the sa team, the Gangwon Miners.

I was a first-round pick, Byeong-ju second round.

The dia raved that the Miners picked the best high school battery with their first two picks.

"Did I?"

Honestly, I can't rember what I said back then. Besides, things are so different now.

I just laughed it off, and Byeong-ju didn't comnt further.

Father gave one-point lessons to each pitcher, and for the fielders, he gave talks about difficult hitting from a pitcher's perspective and how to win gas with defense and baserunning.

"Just because you play selflessly doesn't an you're less valuable. Players who are good at that kind of thing often have longer careers. Anyway, I hope today becos a good mory for you all."

All the players applauded.

Father didn't coach individually, so I did regular team training while watching Father teach the others.

"We're heading for a one-on-one session."

"Yes sir."

"You're not sulking because I didn't pay special attention to you in front of your friends, right?"

"What?"

Father grinned oddly.

Hmm...

I've tried telling him multiple tis that I'm living my second life, but it never gets through.

* * *

When was the last ti he saw his son pitch right in front of him?

Seo Tae-seung suddenly felt awkward.

Back in his playing days, after a long road trip, he'd co ho to find his son's clothes a different size.

He couldn't help but wonder how lucky he was.

If his son had said he traveled back in ti, he never would have believed it unless he'd experienced it himself.

And yet, he'd just stood by, doing nothing, even as he watched his son break down.

It wasn't sothing he did directly, but his actions had clearly contributed.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Only the father, son, and the son's friend as catcher remained in the training field.

Watching his son prepare to pitch, Seo Tae-seung felt nervous for an unknown reason; he wasn't sure when he'd last felt this way.

Seo Ye-sung also seed a bit tense, took a deep breath, and started his windup.

You could feel the strength from the grip, and the rotation of his shoulder and hips was fierce.

His arm snapped explosively, and the stride was powerful. But the weight transfer seed awkward.

Wham!

'Hmm.'

The radar gun read 157 km/h. Fast, but a flat, uninteresting pitch.

"I'll adjust my form and throw again."

After the father nodded, his son got ready again.

His left hand tucked behind his body, and his rotation slowed into rhythm.

The stride was now stable, and instead of a full overhand, his arm angle dropped a bit.

The ball left his hand.

Last ti, his left leg swung wide after throwing, but this ti, he stabilized imdiately.

Wham!

This ti, the pitch looked a bit slower, but the ball was heavy, low, and twitched with movent right in front of the zone.

The radar gun now read 150 km/h.

Even though the velocity dropped, Seo Tae-seung couldn't help but smile brightly.

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