The Extra in a Baseball Novel

As we headed up to the second floor, I heard Shin Hayoon’s voice behind me.

“Sorry…”

She had been unusually quiet, probably because bringing her family along was on her mind.

“It’s fine. They like me so much, and I didn’t particularly mind it.”

“Really…? That’s a relief. Well, um… thanks…”

“For what?”

“For signing and taking pictures. My family really likes you, for some reason… I don’t know why…”

If only she hadn’t added the “I don’t know why” at the end, it would have been perfect.

“Not sure if I’m all that, but I’m just grateful they like me.”

“What?”

“You’re not as bad of a guy as I thought.”

I let out a small chuckle.

“Stop. Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“No, I’m serious…”

As I approached the pro zone, the one on the far right, Shin Hayoon quickly grabbed me.

“Hey. The pro zone pitches at over 150 km/h, you know?”

“It’s fine.”

“…You’re just showing your batting form. Why not use an easier one?”

“This one’s easy for me.”

Shin Hayoon chuckled.

I wasn’t joking; I was being serious…

Well, she’ll see soon enough.

I picked up a bat and waited for the pitch.

“Watch carefully. I’m only going to hit 10 balls.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead—”

Crack!

As soon as I hit the ball, Shin Hayoon’s words stopped mid-sentence.

Crack!

Crack!

…

…

…

Crack!

After the 10 hits, I turned around to see Shin Hayoon staring blankly at me.

She said she was going to record it, but the camera lens was pointing limply at the floor.

“Hey, did you get that on camera?”

“Huh? …Ah, ah!”

Only then did she realize that the camera was out of focus. She grabbed her hair in frustration.

Seeing no other choice, I picked up the bat again, but then she said something I couldn’t ignore.

“Well… after watching you in person, I see some things in your form that could use some adjustments…”

“What?”

If she intended to provoke me, she succeeded. She hit the mark perfectly.

I’ve gone through countless trials and errors to create this batting form, and now she’s saying it needs adjustments…?

“No, no… I don’t mean it’s bad. It’s really good. In fact, it’s the best I’ve ever seen. But listen for a moment… I recorded the initial part, at least.”

She held up the camera and pointed at the screen, tapping my side with her finger.

“Here… you’re overextending too quickly, right?”

“Show it again.”

“Yeah, look here. See? Your hit is strong and looks good, but there’s a risk of injury. Wouldn’t it be better if you could hit comfortably?”

Hmm… honestly, the camera is too shaky, so I can’t really tell.

“What…? Want me to hit again?”

Without answering, I grabbed the bat and stepped back up.

This time, I focused on my side, just as Shin Hayoon mentioned.

Crack!

As soon as I struck the first pitch, I realized it.

It stung my pride, but… she was right.

The slight discomfort I’d felt while hitting had disappeared.

To be fair, I had some inkling that this discomfort existed because it’s my own body.

However, I hadn’t paid much attention to it since my form was perfected in my prime, and I thought it was just due to my current lack of physical condition.

But for her to pinpoint and correct that immediately…

She might just be a future top coach.

After finishing off the rest of the balls, I came back to see Hayoon gazing at the camera as if it were a treasure.

“Thanks.”

It hurt my pride a little, but I had to admit that her help was valuable.

“Huh?”

She looked up, eyes wide.

“Your advice made it feel a lot more comfortable.”

Even Shin Hayoon, who’s usually tough, couldn’t hide her smile when praised for her coaching.

“Ah… thanks. I had fun today… a little…”

“What?”

Her voice trailed off at the end, so I couldn’t catch the last part.

“It’s nothing. I’m going to head back now. I need to back up the video.”

“Alright.”

As I watched her walk away with a spring in her step, a scene from StrikeHeart suddenly came to mind.

“Even now, I regret it. Although I’ve succeeded as a coach, if I had more confidence back then, maybe I could have become a coach sooner and gained more experience… Well, it’s all in the past now.”

Well… giving her a little confidence boost won’t hurt.

“Hey, Shin Hayoon.”

“What?”

Now that I had called her, I didn’t know what to say.

I hesitated for a moment before blurting out whatever came to mind.

“You have talent.”

“What?”

“You should become a coach. I think you could even coach in the Major Leagues.”

“Do you think being a Major League coach is easy…?”

Though she grumbled, the corners of her mouth twitched upward. She’s terrible at hiding her feelings.

“Anyway… I’m really going now. Maybe next time…”

—Or not.

She muttered in a barely audible voice and hurried out of the batting center, almost like she was running away.

—

On a scorching hot afternoon, Kim Yoobin was in the dugout, cooling off.

“Hey, Yoobin, do you think you’re going to get pushed out of the national team this time?”

Kim Yoobin scoffed at his teammate’s comment.

“Hey, I’m Kim Yoobin. The star shortstop carrying Hwachung High. How could I get pushed out?”

“Haven’t you watched the Golden Lion Tournament broadcast?”

“Why would I? What’s so fun about it?”

“See, that’s your problem. The shortstop from Hyuksan High is insane. He hits like crazy.”

“Better than me?”

“Yeah. Way better.”

Kim Yoobin tilted his head.

How could that even be possible?

Scouts say that when it comes to shortstops, Kim Yoobin is the first name that comes to mind. And there’s a shortstop better than him?

“Maybe he just had a hot streak. You see that sometimes in tournaments. But you know what the common trait of those guys is? They suddenly disappear.”

“Well… there are exceptions.”

“We’ll see. Anyway, don’t worry. Do you think I’d get pushed out of the national team?”

—

The Shinwol Baseball Stadium was packed with players from high schools all over the country, preparing for the national team selection.

A veteran with his hands in his pockets slowly walked out in front of the gathered players.

This year’s national team manager, Jeon Hocheol.

Having led Korea to its last championship, his gaze alone exuded charisma.

“Nice to meet you all. As you know, not everyone here will earn the right to wear the Taeguk mark. I don’t care which school you’re from or how good your past performance was. I will only judge you based on what you show me today. Do your best.”

“Yes, sir!”

With a brief greeting, the coach immediately sent out the pitchers and began preparing the infielders’ tests.

“We’ll start with the shortstop fielding test. Line up in the order called earlier.”

The test was simple.

Jeon Hocheol would hit the ball directly, and the shortstop would field it. Points would be given based on how cleanly they handled the play.

When the first shortstop took his position, the coach standing next to Jeon Hocheol began listing his information.

“This is Shin Haechan from Dongsin High. He has a career batting average of .320—”

“That’s enough. Speak when I ask.”

Jeon Hocheol picked up the ball and hit it.

It veered toward the third-base line, a fast-moving, tricky ball to handle.

The shortstop chased after it but couldn’t catch it cleanly, fumbling the ball.

Just as the shortstop hastily grabbed the ball to throw it…

“Stop. Next shortstop, step up.”

“W-What? Please, just give me one more chance! I’ll get it right next time!”

The shortstop pleaded desperately, but Jeon Hocheol remained firm.

“Nerves, mistakes, difficult balls—they’re all part of your skill. Tournaments are single elimination. There is no ‘next time.’ Understand?”

In the end, the shortstop had to bow his head and return to the dugout.

Jeon Hocheol’s expression remained unchanged as the tests continued.

These players were supposed to be some of the best from high school teams across the country, so they had the fundamentals…

‘None of them stand out…’

Aiming for world-class performance, Jeon Hocheol found them all lacking.

As he sighed, a shortstop with a different gleam in his eyes came into his view.

‘He looks confident, at least.’

The others had shown signs of tension after the first shortstop was easily dismissed, but this guy seemed relaxed.

‘Let’s see if his skills match that confidence.’

Smack!

A ball shot towards the third-base line, similar to the one that the first shortstop missed.

But this shortstop caught it cleanly and made a swift throw to first.

Jeon Hocheol gave a faint smile and nodded.

“What’s that kid’s name?”

“Kim Yoobin, a third-year. He’s considered the best shortstop in the country.”

“Really? Not bad.”

Glancing at the coach, Kim Yoobin grinned.

The coach, who had been stern-faced until now, was finally showing a hint of a smile.

‘Yeah, you need to be at this level to catch the coach’s eye.’

Smack!

Jeon Hocheol hit another ball, and Kim Yoobin handled it deftly.

Once, twice, three times—Kim Yoobin had fielded more balls than anyone so far.

“Last one!” shouted the coach.

Smack!

The ball was headed towards second base. It looked easy to handle, but then suddenly bounced awkwardly.

Thrown off balance, Kim Yoobin missed the ball and anxiously looked at the coach.

The coach smirked and waved it off.

“You’re through. Why so nervous? Who could catch that?”

“Yes! Thank you!”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Grinning, Kim Yoobin returned to the dugout as the remaining shortstops thought to themselves:

‘Guess the starter has been decided…’

“Next!”

Jeon Hocheol’s eyes had slightly dulled. He thought it would be boring for a while, now that a fairly good player had shown up.

But when the next shortstop stepped up, Jeon Hocheol let out a scoff.

“What’s with that guy?”

If Kim Yoobin had an air of self-confidence,

Then this guy was grinning, looking as relaxed as if he were just playing around.

He seemed so laid-back that Jeon Hocheol almost questioned whether he was taking this seriously.

Clicking his tongue, Jeon Hocheol prepared to hit another ball. He hated players who lacked passion.

Smack!

This time, he swung with noticeably more speed, sending a scorching line drive.

‘Too much power…’

Even Jeon Hocheol thought it might have been too much. He was about to get another ball when—

“…Ha! This kid!”

The shortstop swiftly dove, catching the ball and quickly springing up to make a perfect throw.

‘Finally found him.’

Jeon Hocheol grinned widely and asked the coach beside him,

“What’s his name?”

“That’s Cha Taehyun, a second-year from Hyuksan High.”

—