Time passed, and the P.E. period before lunch arrived.
I quickly changed into my gym clothes and started heading out to the field.
No.
That was a stupid thought.
As I walked out, I reconsidered my earlier impulse about baseball.
After some time had passed and my head had cooled down, I realized it was a mistake.
[Flashback]
'There is still plenty of time until high school. Try a little longer.'
'The things you think are problems now might all be resolved eventually.'
[End Flashback]
That was what Dad said when I quit baseball.
But back then, I didn't think it would be resolved, so I quit.
And now I'm going to say I want to do it again?
I don't have the confidence to say that in front of my parents.
Besides, it's doubtful whether the school team would even accept me...
The rumors about them needing players could be fake, after all.
Waiting for the P.E. teacher on the field, I assumed that since it was the first class, he would just give us free time to play on our own.
However, the teacher's words upon arrival were unexpected.
"You thought it would be free time today, right? Sorry, but we're going straight into the lesson. This semester's performance assessment is baseball. Specifically, I plan to evaluate how well you play catch."
Catch?
The P.E. teacher immediately led us through warm-ups, handed out the prepared gloves, and started the catchball session.
Baseball for the first P.E. class of the second year...
I couldn't help but feel a strange mood settling in.
We grabbed balls, paired up, and started throwing. I roughly paired up with a classmate I didn't know well and began tossing the ball back and forth.
After exchanging throws a couple of times, someone suddenly approached the spot where we were playing.
"Hey, attention for a moment."
The students turned their heads at the P.E. teacher's voice.
"Our school's baseball coach has agreed to help with this class. So, everyone, throw with confidence. The coach will correct your form."
"Yes~!"
"Alright, resume!"
The sound of balls popping into gloves began to fill the air again.
The baseball team coach is coming to help regular students?
It was strange.
The coach, whose favorite activity is resting?
Right now, while the baseball team members are in morning classes, should be the best time for him to relax...
Hmm... Is he trying to pivot to being a P.E. teacher by assisting with regular classes because the team is in danger of being disbanded?
Or... is he actually thinking of scouting from the general student body?
"Oh... where did you play baseball?"
As the session continued, the coach noticed a few students with decent form and slowly approached them.
The student questioned by the coach started reciting his own 'career' history.
"Really? You played in the school athletic meet in middle school and played matches with neighborhood friends? Hmm... not bad."
Then, he separated the students he had his eye on and had them play catch at a longer distance.
Some looked excited by the sudden interest, while others around them looked on with a bit of envy.
Hmm... should I have shown off a bit too?
Honestly, the experience they just mentioned is just at the level of regular people playing for fun. It's far from elite baseball experience...
Just what level are they looking for that they find the throwing of regular students interesting?
Or... are they really in such a desperate state that they need anyone?
Oh, that last one wasn't bad.
I glanced over while continuing my own game of catch.
A few of them were throwing decently.
If I played well right now, I could probably join that group.
But... as soon as the ball was in my hand, my mind got complicated.
The texture of the ball against my palm was familiar.
My fingers naturally found the grip, and I was able to throw the ball to my partner's glove across from me.
...
Pop!
"Oh..."
When I threw the ball exactly where his glove was, the friend opposite me showed a slightly surprised reaction.
He threw the ball back.
...
Pop!
I extended my hand upward and caught the ball.
Well, it's fine.
This much isn't bad.
Playing catch is harder than people think.
Anyway, since he threw it to a spot where I could catch it while standing still, my partner was doing extremely well.
It was my turn to throw again.
But soon, another reason why I quit baseball began to surface.
Ugh...
From a certain point on, I became unable to throw the ball properly.
It's fine for a short while like this, but...
"Uh, uh-oh..."
As I threw the ball, this time it sailed way over his head and went completely off course.
"Sorry."
My partner had to walk quite a distance to retrieve the ball.
Damn it, it's the same.
I still don't clearly know what the problem is.
Whether it's the pressure of poor performance.
Whether I was crushed by my father's reputation.
Or if it's just the 'yips'.
I don't know.
...
"Shall we take a short break?"
"Yes~!"
Thank god.
Just before I could make another throwing error, we got a break time.
"Can you gather around for a second?"
The baseball coach called everyone over with a satisfied expression.
"I have an announcement. We are currently recruiting reserve members for the baseball team. Think of it as close to a baseball club. There are a lot of talented students in Class 5, so if you're interested, give it a shot. Of course, we plan to teach reserve members just like the main team. Interesting, right?"
Reserve members? A club?
Ah, this kind of case is definitely possible.
There are quite a few cases where schools create a baseball club using regular students.
Then, was my worry for nothing?
"And if there is a truly talented friend among the reserve members... we plan to put them on the official roster and give them a chance to play in matches."
"Ooh~!"
At the coach's words, several students showed interest.
As expected.
What he said before was a smokescreen. What he really wants is to find guys to put on the baseball team roster.
But...
Is this bad for me?
Suddenly, that thought crossed my mind.
A club... he said it was a club, right?
It's not the official baseball team.
But I can keep a foot in the door.
Then I don't necessarily have to speak seriously to my parents...
And even if I have to tell them, I might be able to gloss over it appropriately.
Thinking about it that way, it didn't seem bad for me.
Then first...
I need to catch the coach's eye.
Break time ended.
It was time to play catch again.
Hmm... then...
After a brief moment of deliberation, I came up with a way to get noticed quickly.
"Ah!"
I purposely missed the ball my partner threw, even though I could have caught it.
The ball bounced on the ground and rolled far away, tumbling all the way to one end of the field.
Good.
I walked briskly to where the ball had stopped and deliberately shouted loudly from there.
"I'm throwing! Catch it!"
Those words were meant for my partner across the field, but in reality, they were meant for the baseball coach.
Thanks to my loud shout, all eyes momentarily focused on me.
Okay, now!
I gripped the ball and caught my breath for a second.
My throwing was shaky again just now.
Because of that, I wasn't confident in throwing accurately.
But I could still throw hard.
I put my entire body into it and threw the ball from the long distance.
The ball, loaded with power, flew rapidly, stretching out in a straight line zoo-oo-oop as if someone had hit it with a bat.
"Uh... Uh-uh... Uh!"
My partner on the receiving end moved frantically, then thrust his glove out with a shocked expression. The ball couldn't settle properly in the web and bounced off.
Oh... he almost caught that?
It didn't go exactly right, though.
It was actually better this way.
It looked as if I had thrown an accurate ball, but the friend on the other side had regrettably missed it.
It was then.
I saw the baseball coach walking toward me.
He took the bait.
Right, there's no way he could miss a ball flying like that.
The coach stopped in front of me, looked me up and down for a moment, and spoke.
"To throw a ball at that speed from that distance..."
Thank goodness.
It was awkward talking near my classmates, but at this distance, they wouldn't hear.
"Have you ever learned baseball?"
The look in the coach's eyes was different from before.
I hesitated for a moment, then answered honestly.
"I learned until middle school."
The moment he heard those words, I saw the look in his eyes change completely.
If his gaze before was looking at one student among many, now it was the eyes of someone who had found the answer.
"Hmm-hmm. What is your name?"
"It's Kim Jeong-ui."
"Really? Kim Jeong-ui... Jeong-ui, you know where the baseball team trains after classes end, right? Can you spare a moment to come there? Before you go home."
"Yes. I will."
( ❋ ❋ ❋ )
The baseball coach headed to the 2nd-year teachers' office.
And he requested to view Kim Jeong-ui's student record from the homeroom teacher of Class 5.
"Kim Jeong-ui?"
"Yes. I have a few things to check."
"Ah! Come to think of it..."
The homeroom teacher nodded as if recalling something at the coach's words and handed over Jeong-ui's file.
"Hmm... usually from this middle school... their baseball team is decent. But he must have studied well too; it's hard for a regular student to get in here... Huh?"
And the baseball coach had no choice but to be shocked.
Because in the 'Special Remarks' column, it was written:
[If he intends to play baseball again, accept him unconditionally.]
Kim Jeong-ui was a case who had entered almost through a semi-special talent screening.
"How... Huh?"
And he was able to identify a familiar name in the parents' section.
"What, he was senior Kim Jeong-seok's son?"
Kim Jeong-seok.
A name impossible not to know if you were in the industry.
"Ah! Come to think of it, there was a rumor he was at Botong Middle School. So that was real."
( ❋ ❋ ❋ )
When school was over, I moved my steps toward where the baseball team members were.
There weren't as many people at the training field as I expected. One catcher was waiting, and behind him stood the very same coach I saw during P.E. class.
As I approached, the coach pointed to the mound with his chin, looking as if he already knew everything.
He was telling me to go up.
Oh boy... he must be misunderstanding something.
He must have looked at my history a little.
Just because my dad is an underhand legend, he's trying to make me pitch as if it's obvious.
But reality is different.
Right now, I can't even make a clean throw, and I never properly pitched with an underhand form even in middle school.
I tried many times, but my control always went awry.
I couldn't use a form where the ball flew wherever it pleased.
But since it felt awkward to back out now, I walked up to the mound.
As I stepped on the dirt of the mound, I felt a familiar sensation.
The catcher sat down without a word and held out his mitt right down the middle.
Fine, let's show him clearly that it doesn't work.
You think I'll be good at underhand pitching, but that is a delusion, Coach.
I purposely gripped the ball with unrefined movements and swung my arm underhand.
As expected, my body followed well, throwing the ball flexibly and naturally.
The ball stayed low, hugging the ground, then was sucked straight into the middle of the zone.
Pop!
The sound of the catcher's mitt rang out.
A brief silence flowed.
...
Huh?
"That's it!"
Behind me, the coach cheered with delight.
Why is it working?
(End of Chapter)
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