The ER Hawks.
For ten years, the lowest-ranked, dead-last team. And,
the club that first gave me the dream of becoming a baseball player.
At the stadium I had gone to while cluelessly holding my parents' hands, the winning team that day had happened to be the ER Hawks.
And the winning pitcher that day was Pitching Coach An Chunghui, who was now standing in front of me.
Unlike the sharp impression he gave off in the past, Coach An Chunghui now looked gentle. But that was only an impression.
"Use your lower body, not your upper body. What's the point of just waving your arms?"
"You're putting power into it. Relax."
"Look from the side. Turn it slightly. Get your head in the game."
"Set your target high. Check if the tail of the ball drops."
Coach An Chunghee came up beside the second-team pitchers every time they threw the ball, pouring out words fiercely. And the pitchers who changed their forms according to his words moved differently in an instant.
"Wow…."
It was when I had let out an exclamation without realizing it. Coach An Chunghui's gaze, which had been focused on instructing for a while, turned toward me.
"Huh? You're the new guy, right?"
Seeing Coach An Chunghui approaching, I quickly took off my cap and greeted him.
"Hello, sir."
Among all those pitchers, I was the only one who had joined the ER Hawks as a development player. I had heard that quite a few fielders and batters were drafted.
That meant the pitchers had been in a terrible state. Or maybe I was amazing.
Then, Coach An Chunghui, who had been watching me quietly, opened his mouth.
"You know that you weren't drafted because you're truly incredible, because you pitch better than the others, right?"
He had hit the nail right on the head.
"The reason you were drafted even though you aren't an immediate contributor is because the Manager believes in your potential. I'm just here to help you realize that potential."
Coach An Chunghui lightly tapped my shoulder.
"So make it happen. That potential."
My chest boiled over for no reason. At the word "potential."
"Yes, sir!"
When I spoke in a voice sharp with discipline, Coach An Chunghui let out a hollow laugh.
"Alright, then throw. From what I saw last time, you throw a pretty interesting ball."
"Yes!"
Answering briefly, I stepped onto the mound.
"Hoo."
I felt a nervousness I hadn't even felt during the tryout. The pitcher I had so deeply respected was watching me. Furthermore, standing in the distance with his arms crossed was Manager Yun Seonggeun. Everyone was watching me.
I took a small breath and grabbed the ball. Pressing firmly on the ball caught by my neatly trimmed fingernails from the night before, I raised my arm.
Swish—,
I thought I had thrown it properly. My arm swing was fast, and no spin was put on the ball pushed out by my fingertips. The velocity was quite fast for a knuckleball.
Right now, I thought it was the perfect knuckleball I could throw.
If only that ball hadn't lodged precisely between the catcher's legs.
Thud—!
"Ugh!!"
Perhaps because he had been hit in a vital spot, the catcher immediately threw off his mask and rolled on the ground.
It looked dizzying just watching. I hurriedly ran toward the catcher.
"Are you okay?!"
"Ugh, do I look okay?! Do you know how important this is?! Of all the places you could throw it…!"
"I-I'm sorry."
"Hoo. Throw it properly, alright?"
The catcher nodded as if telling me to go ahead. I quickly returned to the mound and re-adjusted my pitching form.
Why? I had definitely thrown it properly. If things had gone as expected, the ball should have headed toward the borderline, yet it had slipped between the catcher's legs.
Was the movement weak? If so, it should have had spin. Telling myself to focus more this time, I grabbed the ball.
The catcher extended his mitt as if he was ready. And at the same time, the baseball was thrown from my hand.
The spin was only two rotations. It was a throw to the inside borderline with moderate speed. This time, it had been thrown properly, and if he caught it, that would have been the end.
But there was a problem.
"…Huh?"
The catcher's mitt, which should have been extended toward the body side, was facing outward. Naturally, the ball got past him.
Perhaps quite flustered, the catcher tilted his head.
"Throw it again."
At Coach An Chunghui's words, I pulled myself together and threw the ball again. But the result was the same. The catcher once again put his mitt in an odd place.
Toward the catcher who whipped off his mask as if dumbfounded, Coach An spoke.
"Call out all the second-team catchers."
"Huh? Ah, yes!"
And so it began.
The ER Hawks' second-team catchers attempting to catch the ball.
Swish.
Swish.
Swish.
As I threw the ball, only the sound of wind was heard, not the sound of it smacking into a mitt.
That meant the catchers who had come out until now hadn't been able to catch my ball properly.
They managed to catch it once or twice by chance, but soon missed again. At this point, I was beginning to wonder if the catchers were sabotaging me.
It wasn't even a wild pitch. It was a knuckleball with proper command. It wasn't so fast that they couldn't catch it.
So why couldn't they catch it?!
When even the catcher who had caught my ball during the tryouts dropped it, I finally stopped throwing.
"Ha, now…!"
"Why can't you all catch it? Can't you see the ball?"
It was Coach An Chunghui who cut me off. And at his words, the catchers each opened their mouths as if they had something to say.
"No, it definitely came in from the right!"
"The ball suddenly disappeared…."
"The trajectory is seriously weird, I tell you?"
Right when the catchers were complaining that the ball was strange.
"Heh heh."
A laugh that didn't fit the situation at all. At that laughter, everyone's gaze turned toward the source.
It was Manager Yun Seonggeun.
"Jaeyul."
At Manager Yun Seonggeun's call, someone walked out. A man walking over wearing catcher gear.
There was one catcher left who hadn't received my ball yet.
Jaeyul. A name I had heard somewhere before.
Jaeyul, Jaeyul… Ryu Jaeyul?
Only then did I remember. He was the catcher of the opposing team I had faced in the President's Cup final. A very sensitive and ill-mannered catcher who looked down on even his own teammates.
"I have a feeling this guy can catch it."
At Yun Seonggeun's words, Coach An Chunghui nodded and asked Ryu Jaeyul.
"Jaeyul, do you think you can catch it?"
At Coach An Chunghui's question, Ryu Jaeyul leisurely put on his catcher's mask. As Ryu Jaeyul headed toward the catcher's position, he seemed about to stop, then looked precisely at me.
And then he opened his mouth expressionlessly.
"It's easy."
Silence fell. It may be a common expression, but it really felt as if someone had poured cold water over the training ground.
"Easy?"
Well, it was better than hearing it was easy for a batter to hit, but still.
That didn't seem to be the case for the other catchers. Everyone glared at Ryu Jaeyul as if he was talking nonsense.
That was when Coach An Chunghui walked over to me.
"Was your name Chae Gangu?"
"Ah, yes! That's right."
"Alright, Gangu."
Coach An Chunghui, standing in front of me, took the baseball from my hand and continued speaking.
"A pitcher cannot command it, a batter cannot hit it, and a catcher cannot catch it."
"…What?"
"It's something a Major League umpire said about the knuckleball. Do you know why I'm bringing this up?"
A pitcher cannot command it. A batter cannot hit it, and a catcher cannot catch it?
It was very simple. In other words, the knuckleball was something no one could get a read on.
But I couldn't understand why Coach An Chunghui had brought up those words at this moment.
"I don't know, sir."
"That's also why it's called a demon pitch. Even if you know the trajectory, it's hard to hit it, and you can't even grasp the trajectory. If a pitcher can throw a knuckleball with command? That would truly be the perfect knuckleball. And if you're a high-speed knuckleballer like you,"
Coach An Chunghui's eyes flashed.
"if you grow well, there won't be a batter in the KBO who can hit your ball."
My heart began to pound. Because to a pitcher, there's nothing more thrilling than hearing that a batter cannot hit his ball.
"But that's only if the catcher catches the ball."
A crack formed in my fully inflated confidence.
"…What?"
"No matter how good the pitch is, what good is it? If the catcher can't receive it, it's all for nothing."
"Ah."
Only then did I think I understood why Coach An Chunghui had mentioned the Major League umpire's words.
"So I just need a catcher who can unconditionally catch my ball? That's easy. If we exchange signs—"
"Signs?"
Coach An Chunghui, cutting me off, snorted.
"Are you going to exchange signs with the catcher every single time to tell him? Do you think that makes sense?"
It didn't… make sense.
"No matter how good the battery relationship is, it's impossible."
That was the advantage and fatal weakness of the knuckleball. That no one could hit it or catch it.
As Coach An Chunghui said, no matter how good the pitch, if the catcher couldn't receive it, that was the end. I thought of the catchers who had been unable to catch my ball just moments ago.
If not a single catcher could catch my ball?
Naturally, no one would think to use me.
"Yes, let's say there's a catcher who can read your every glance like a partner and catch your ball. The two of you are the best battery with perfect chemistry."
Coach An Chunghui continued in a meaningful tone.
"Let's say the catcher knows where you're going to throw in advance through glances and hand signals. Then, can you put the ball exactly where you and the catcher decided, every single time?"
Coach An Chunghui exhaled shortly and uttered his final words.
"So what I'm asking is whether you can command it one hundred percent."