The Greatest Catcher of All Time – Episode 1
0. Prologue
1.
One who must become the steadfast target of the pitcher.
One who must embrace every wild pitch with their chest.
One with the eyes of a god who reads the field, the guts of a hero, and the heart great enough to embrace the beasts.
One who remembers the battle of the last at-bat and must lead the battle of this at-bat to victory.
One who can review even the breathing of the opposing team after the game has ended.
One who must wear a mask, leg guards, and a cup, moving without rest to endure nine innings.
One who must stop the runner charging toward home plate with their whole body.
The team's final defender.
One broadcaster defined baseball's catcher this way.
…
— He got a hit! A hit through the right-center gap!! The runner on second rounds third and charges toward home! The right fielder throws! Play at the plate! Play at the plate!!
Along with the caster's shouting, the eyes of everyone watching the field converge on home plate.
Bottom of the 9th, two outs, score 3-2. A moment where the game's outcome hinges on the fate of a single run.
The catcher receives the right fielder's throw, a line like a clothesline, and blocks home plate with his body.
Not caring about the catcher, the runner throws himself like a bulldozer, pushing into the plate.
"Wipe him out!!"
"Stand your ground!!"
As if hearing the cheering from each dugout, the catcher and runner collide fiercely, as if answering their cries. White dust rises, obscuring home plate, and the eyes watching the catcher and runner shift to the umpire. The umpire in black, watching the two from closest range, clenches both fists tightly and shouts loudly.
"Out!!!"
— The ball! He didn't drop it! Out, he's out! Catcher Kim Jihoon protects this one run!
— Ah.. amazing. They said today was his debut, right? Watching him through the ninth, I thought he was the calm type, incredibly strong in battles behind the plate, but as expected, he's young and overflowing with fighting spirit.
Along with the caster and commentator's calls, the Grizzlies players leap out of the dugout. To revel in the hard-fought victory and praise the little rookie catcher's fighting spirit, they come running with Pocari Sweat in both hands. But unfortunately, the catcher currently lying on home plate is in no condition to celebrate victory.
— Uh.. but he isn't getting up. Was the impact too great? Runner Hwang Seongmin seems fine, but catcher Kim Jihoon isn't moving at all.
— Look at the collision replay. His posture was bad when he fell. His knee where the first collision happened is a problem, but his head hit the ground first when he went down.
"Call an ambulance! Hurry!!"
The umpire waves his hands urgently, signaling the waiting safety personnel, and only then do the players' expressions darken as if grasping the situation. The crowd, filled with cheers, also gazes at home plate with blank expressions. After a brief pause, an ambulance speeds across the field.
— In the end, the ambulance is coming in. I hope player Kim Jihoon isn't seriously injured.
— Look at the screen. Player Kim Jihoon still hasn't let go of the ball from his mitt. That is truly fighting spirit. Fighting spirit!!
At the commentator's shout, everyone's gaze fixes. Whether he has lost consciousness or not, even with his body limp, he hasn't dropped the ball gripped in his glove.
The team's final defender, who must stop the runner charging toward home plate with his whole body.
At least on that day, Kim Jihoon was a 'catcher' that everyone acknowledged.
1. Release
1.
"I believe the club has waited long enough."
They certainly had.
Just the time spent rehabilitating to recover from the concussion and knee injury suffered in his first team debut game was two years. The three years after that were in the second team—and even then, only minuscule opportunities were given—but it was true that they had waited a total of five years.
There was the excuse that opportunities decreased each year and he had appeared more as a pinch hitter than a starter, making it hard to adapt to games, but looking at Assistant Manager Kim's stiff expression as he broached the subject across the table, such words clearly wouldn't work.
"Last year, 33 second-team games, batting average .216, 1 home run.. Player Kim Jihoon, to be frank, the club has no intention of waiting any longer."
Kim Jihoon had some sense of tact, so he had somewhat prepared himself from the moment he received the contact asking to meet separately. He already knew his performance had been terrible. His salary was already at rock bottom, but he had been thinking that he could accept conditions like a further salary cut or starting as a second-team candidate in the upcoming season. But a release was a story on a completely different level.
"Isn't there any way? Please give me more time, even just one year. My hitting certainly had issues this year, but I think my defense has recovered somewhat. I can do better next year."
"The club has already judged that Player Kim Jihoon has no chance of a comeback. Honestly, your physical condition isn't very good."
A situation where the calculations work in his head and he knows how to move, but his body won't follow. The club officials were veterans who had eaten baseball rice for decades—they had that much of an eye. Seen one way, it might be an accurate judgment. Kim Jihoon himself had desperately felt that his body wasn't what it used to be.
That was why he had studied pitchers and batters all the more, trying to fill defensive gaps with appropriate pitch-calling for each situation, changing his hitting form to focus on getting on base rather than batting average, struggling desperately to survive.
Next year would definitely be better. It was a mantra Kim Jihoon cast upon himself.
But the field's evaluation was colder than he thought.
"Don't you know better than anyone that there's already no place for you in the lineup? It's already been 8 years since you joined. During that time, the club has brought in 80 new players, and if you include secondary draft picks and free agents, it's well over 100. The entire roster changes.. did you think you'd be any different? The only reason we waited this long was because you took good care of the second-team players, and the fighting spirit you showed in your debut game was constantly talked about within the club."
The club seemed to have already firmly solidified its stance, digging into reality even more ruthlessly.
"Anyway, after next season, you'll have to go to the army too.. Sangmu or the Police team look difficult, so active duty.. no, with your injury history, you'd be public service. You're struggling now, but after a 2-3 year gap, how do you think you'll do? We thought telling you the reality as soon as possible was the last courtesy we could offer. You need to find a new path now."
Assistant Manager Kim's tone sank coldly. His expression was dark. The person delivering the release notice couldn't exactly speak with a broad smile, but that cold, dark expression properly represented the current situation.
He wanted to grab Assistant Manager Kim by the collar right then and shout how could they do this to him, that he got injured running for them and ended up like this only to be thrown away, but in one corner of his heart, perhaps already acknowledging that he had become a has-been, instead of a collar, his head unconsciously nodded.
"I understand."
"You've made a wise decision."
Hearing the powerless declaration of surrender, Assistant Manager Kim picked up the documents he was holding, organized them with sharp taps, and extended a handshake. If he took this hand, it was truly the end, but no other choice remained for Kim Jihoon.
"I wish you luck."
2.
"Luck, my ass."
Once the release decision was made, what followed proceeded in rapid succession. Not even five minutes after leaving the club office, a text flew to his phone ordering him to clear out his locker room by today and return all equipment provided by the club along with his access card. It took only five minutes to have the last 8 years of his life completely ripped away.
Right after checking the text, Kim Jihoon, who had been cursing even the distant in-laws of the Assistant Manager who wished him luck, shoved the one mitt perfectly worn to his hand into his bag and moved his feet. Having returned the equipment his body was accustomed to, only one mitt remained. Perhaps because this was no longer a place where he worked and he didn't want to cling on shamefully, Kim Jihoon's feet moving out of the club were much faster than usual.
Leaving the stadium desolately and trudging toward his 300,000 won monthly studio apartment, a cold autumn wind blew at Kim Jihoon.
It was cold. Whether because of the wind or his current situation, the autumn wind felt unusually cold.
"What do I do with my life now?"
He had started baseball at age 10. Fortunately, he had talent, and 8 years ago he was selected as a second-round pick, receiving the full brunt of coaches and club officials' expectations. After getting injured five years ago, he had dreamed only of a comeback, shedding sweat and tears, and barely managed to return to the field after two years. Though he never made it back to the first team, the three years in the second team were precious times where he learned much. Like that, 18 years.
Kim Jihoon had spent more than half his life with baseball.
If baseball was taken from such a Kim Jihoon, all that remained now were specs that had frozen since age 10.
28 years old, unemployed, not having completed military service, high school graduate.
Credentials dizzying just to think about. But this was reality.
Remove the title of baseball player from the human named Kim Jihoon, and that was exactly all that remained.
As for his bank balance, he had only received the minimum salary all these 8 years, so he had nothing saved. Walking alone for over ten minutes in the cold wind, realistic worries about how to sort out his future rose one by one, and Kim Jihoon's head grew complicated.
To the point where he felt he might have boarded the last train of his life.
Having not even gone to the army yet, getting a proper job was out of the question, and for the roughly one year remaining, the only things he could do were convenience store or PC cafe part-time jobs, or manual labor. Even if he applied for enlistment right now, he'd have to wait at least three months, meaning he'd be discharged at the earliest at thirty, or at thirty-one, and have to find a new job with the credentials of an unemployed high school graduate in his 30s.
His one last bastion was entering another club as a developmental player through a tryout, but even that wasn't certain. Would any team take a player with only one year left before enlistment, even as a developmental player? If he failed the tryout and couldn't enter another club, it meant his enlistment would be pushed back a year, which meant falling into an even deeper pit.
"There's really no answer."
No matter how much he thought, no solution came out.
He felt he'd have to go home today and down some straight soju to soothe his bitter stomach, so shaking his head repeatedly, he once again moved his steps toward the studio.
Had he walked about ten minutes like that?
Kim Jihoon sees something illusory before his eyes, and ringing sounds in his ears.
[Baseball Manager is starting.]
A brilliant hologram unfolds before Kim Jihoon's eyes.