The Extra in a Baseball Novel

“Do you feel like you’ve got a better handle on your control now?”

Instead of answering verbally, Cha Sihwan rummaged through his bag and pulled out a file.

“I think these materials have helped me a lot,” he said, handing the file to the manager before heading back to the mound.

“It mentioned that my pitching form and release point were slightly off every time I threw the ball…”

Coach Lee Eun-seok nodded as he looked at the file. It contained detailed photos showing how much Cha Sihwan’s pitching form and release point had been fluctuating.

“The solution they suggested was to develop a habit of keeping my pitching form and release point consistent,” Cha Sihwan explained.

Cha Sihwan gripped the ball and went into his pitching motion, pausing briefly just before throwing it.

“I’ve been practicing like this to fix my form and release point, and it seems to be helping.”

A small sound of admiration escaped Coach Lee’s lips.

The writing was clear and well-organized. It was something even a baseball player, who typically might not be great with written instructions, could easily understand and use to improve.

Moreover, the photos attached—probably captured from broadcast footage—must have taken a lot of effort to capture at just the right moments. It was clear a significant amount of work had gone into creating this file.

“And they told me to establish a routine as well.”

“A routine?”

“Yeah, by creating a routine and practicing in conjunction with this, it’ll become a habit.”

As Cha Sihwan explained, he touched the brim of his cap a couple of times and shrugged his right shoulder.

“After that, I make sure to fix my pitching form and release point again, like this…”

“Oh…”

Coach Lee was genuinely impressed. The idea of integrating a routine to naturally solidify his pitching form was rather novel.

By this point, Lee Eun-seok couldn’t help but ask the obvious question.

“Where did you get these materials?”

The manager, slightly excited, approached Cha Sihwan, who shook his head.

“Well… I’m not entirely sure myself. Taehyun gave it to me. He said it was from someone preparing to become a coach…”

“Cha Taehyun? Coach Goo, did Cha Taehyun come in today?”

“I saw him arrive this morning.”

“Great. Let’s go talk to him.”

With a wide smile, the manager left the pitcher’s training area.

Watching him leave, Cha Sihwan muttered under his breath, “Couldn’t you have left the materials if you weren’t going to give me any coaching…”

Although it was Monday, the team’s rest day, I decided to head to Sajik Stadium to do some light exercises.

On my way to the training room, I suddenly heard some noises—

Whack!

Argh!

Whack!

Ow!

Who could be practicing? I thought the stadium would be empty since it was a rest day.

Following the sound, I reached the field and came across an unexpected scene.

Senior Ji Chanwoo was gasping for breath, practically rolling on the ground. No, it would be more accurate to say he was using his uniform to mop up the dirt. His white uniform was so covered in dirt that it was almost unrecognizable.

“Chanwoo! You’re not done yet, so get up!”

And there stood Senior Lee Sangjin at first base, apparently helping with infield practice.

He had been the guy offering me drinks when we first met, but it seems like even the players are changing along with the new management.

“Taehyun! You’re here? It’s a rest day—what are you doing here?”

Whack!

Even as the fielding coach talked, he kept hitting balls.

“I’m just here for some light training. What about you, Coach?”

“What else? Chanwoo kept nagging me for more fungo practice, so I came to help. He was like a ghost with unfinished business over not getting enough infield practice.”

Hmm… That might not be far from the truth. From what I’ve heard from seniors like Lee Suho and Lee Seungtae, there probably wasn’t anyone around to give Chanwoo extra fielding practice.

Well, it’s clear the team is moving in a better direction.

“I’ll head to the weight room.”

“Sure, take care.”

As I made my way out of the stadium toward the training room, I ran into another unexpected pair.

“Oh! Taehyun! I was just looking for you. Did you give this file to Cha Sihwan?”

The manager handed me the file, and I recognized it immediately—it was the analysis material made by Shin Hayoon.

“I looked through it, and even though it’s short, it’s very well-done. The feedback is reasonable, and with how Sihwan’s control has improved, I can see potential in this. Why don’t you ask the person who made it something?”

“What should I ask?”

The manager grinned.

“Ask if they’d be interested in working with Phoenix.”

A grin spread across my face as well.

I had thought getting Shin Hayoon hired by Phoenix wouldn’t be possible until Cha Sihwan showed some results, but the opportunity had come much sooner than expected.

“Of course, this alone isn’t enough to offer them a position right away. We’ll need more solid results. You understand what I mean, right?”

“Yes, I’ll talk to her and try to get more material.”

“You catch on quickly, Taehyun. Where did we find such a lucky charm, right, Coach Goo?”

“Haha… Yes, definitely a lucky charm… even bringing in a good coach for us, haha…”

For some reason, Coach Goo’s eyes seemed to flicker a bit.

“Hmm hmm hmm~”

Shin Hayoon was humming to herself, holding up various outfits in front of the mirror.

It looked like she was preparing for a fun outing, but she had no plans to go out. She wasn’t even thinking about leaving the house.

So why was she so excited, carefully choosing her clothes?

[Taehyun: Can I stop by your place for a bit?]

That one text message was the reason. For some reason, Cha Taehyun was coming over.

The last time they spent together, celebrating her birthday, had been so much fun, and now another chance had come, so how could she not be excited?

Her younger sibling was at school, and her parents were at work!

‘This is the sweet life of the unemployed!’

As soon as she heard the doorbell, Shin Hayoon ran to the door.

But in her excitement, she slipped on her slippers and fell forward.

“Oop—!”

She accidentally opened the door, and before she knew it, she had practically fallen into Cha Taehyun’s arms.

Her heart pounded like crazy.

“Why are you rushing out like that?”

“Ah… sorry.”

Even as she apologized, she leaned slightly into his chest, only pulling away when she noticed him giving her a look.

“Sorry for dropping by unexpectedly. I have something important to discuss, and I need to pick up some things.”

“Oh… no need to apologize. Come in.”

Shin Hayoon led him to her room and gestured for him to sit on the bed, but he shook his head.

“It’s important, but it won’t take long.”

“Really…? You sure you’re not tired?”

Her lips pouted slightly, but Cha Taehyun pretended not to notice and turned away, gathering the Phoenix analysis materials from her desk into his bag.

Though the files were precious to her, Shin Hayoon didn’t say a word, watching silently.

“You know that material you gave to Cha Sihwan? Somehow, it ended up catching the manager’s attention.”

“Really? No way!”

She wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or nervous—maybe a mix of both.

“What… what did the manager say?”

Cha Taehyun sighed softly, lowering his gaze for a moment.

Seeing this, Shin Hayoon’s expression fell, like a golden retriever whose treat had just been taken away.

“I guess it wasn’t a good evaluation, huh…”

Then, suddenly, Cha Taehyun smirked.

“I’m just messing with you. If it was bad, would I be taking these files with me? The manager loved your material. He asked if you’d be interested in working with Phoenix.”

Her face brightened instantly, and she jumped up from the bed.

“Really?”

“Well, it’s not a full-time job yet, but if you can provide more material, I think there’s a chance. That’s why I came. These are heavy, and I didn’t want to make you bring them to me.”

As Cha Taehyun turned to leave, Shin Hayoon, overwhelmed with excitement, impulsively ran toward him.

“Hey, wait!”

In her excitement, she ended up pushing him, and they both fell to the floor, with Shin Hayoon practically lying on top of him.

Cha Taehyun chuckled softly and looked away.

“Thank you… really. Thank you so, so much.”

She buried her face into his back, feeling the warmth of her happiness and gratitude.

“I’ll never forget this… I’ll repay you for this for the rest of my life! Thank you so much, Cha Taehyun.”

“Come on… you don’t have to repay me. You’ve been working for free all this time… Besides, you earned this with your own skills, not because of me.”

Still leaning on his back, Shin Hayoon shook her head.

“No, it’s because of you. Without you, this would’ve taken much longer.”

“Fine, fine. I get it. Now, let go.”

“Oh… right.”

Finally realizing her position, Shin Hayoon stood up, her face burning with embarrassment.

A moment of awkward silence followed.

“Alright, I’m leaving.”

“Oh… okay. Take care!”

With the awkward atmosphere lingering, Cha Taehyun left the room.

Shin Hayoon peeked out the window, watching him walk away from the apartment complex, then threw herself onto the bed.

“Oh no… I’m so embarrassed! What was I thinking?!”

She rolled around in bed, wrapping herself in her blanket. Eventually, her momentum carried her off the bed, and she fell onto the floor with a thud.

But strangely enough, it didn’t hurt at all. Was her head messed up?

Whatever.

Who cares if she was a little crazy when she was this happy?

Today, I was approached by Sean White, who was the starting pitcher for today’s game against the Gwangju Angels.

“Hey, Taehyun. Do you know why my name’s Sean White, even though I’m Black?”

I stiffened for a moment. If I answered that wrong, things could get ugly.

Thankfully, Sean didn’t wait for me to answer.

“My parents are both white, so they thought I’d be born white too.”

“Oh… I see.”

“Isn’t it wild? A Black guy born from white parents—that’s unique, right?”

Does that even make sense?

He came out with weird stuff like this sometimes, but I liked him. I don’t mind people like that.

“It’s definitely unique.”

“Exactly. A guy with luck as unique as mine will definitely bring us good fortune today. No need to worry about our third straight win.”

Yeah… I just hope that Sean’s luck will help us get through Phoenix’s bullpen.

Please.

Despite having the “lucky man” Sean White on the mound, Phoenix’s first inning offense ended in a disappointing three-up, three-down.

“Is it finally my time to shine? Let’s go!”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Regardless, Sean White was full of energy as he stepped onto the mound.

“Hey Sean, wat you bol?” Shin Si-woo asked in his broken English. He was trying to ask what pitch Sean would throw.

Sean tilted his head slightly but quickly nodded, as if understanding the question.

‘He’s asking how my skills are, huh?’

“I’m best, okay?”

‘Best? He’s trusting me to make the best judgment, huh? This guy’s a fun one.’

“Okay, good.”

This is why signs are important in baseball. Without them, this battery might have been a total disaster today.

Returning to home plate, Shin Si-woo put on his mask.

‘The Angels are no pushovers.’

In the past, Phoenix, the Angels, and the Winners had always occupied the bottom of the standings together, earning the nickname “Wi-Pho-An.”

But that’s all history now.

The Seoul Winners had long since left the bottom, going on to win championships and betraying their bottom-tier allies.

Meanwhile, the Angels, though struggling for a while, held the KBO’s record for most championships—a fundamentally different team altogether.

‘The more I think about it, the more it pisses me off. Our only true ally was the Daejeon Volcanoes.’

“Play ball!”

The umpire’s call snapped Shin Si-woo out of his thoughts, and he signaled for the first pitch—a forkball, low and outside.

Sean nodded and delivered the pitch.

—Whoosh!

The batter swung and missed as the forkball dropped perfectly in front of him.

‘Not bad…’

Catching the ball, Shin Si-woo was impressed. Sean’s forkball had been decent during exhibition games, but it looked even better now. He was clearly a gamer.

This time, Shin signaled for a slider on the outside corner.

—Crack!

“Strike!”

The pitch clipped the edge of the strike zone, and the umpire called it a strike, though it seemed a bit outside.

Two strikes. With the count in their favor, they could go for a chase pitch, but…

‘A fastball inside? This should be fun!’

Sean grinned as he saw Shin Si-woo’s sign. He liked the idea of going for a strikeout with a bold pitch.

Sean wound up, and with all his strength, he fired the ball.

The batter swung fiercely—

But—

“Strike three—out!”

The bat didn’t connect.

[156 km/h]

‘Not bad…’

Caught off guard by the unexpected pitch sequence, the batter let out a frustrated chuckle and trudged back to the dugout.

[Angels leadoff hitter strikes out on three pitches (fastball: 156 km/h). Out.]

└That’s what I’m talking about!

└How many years has it been since we had a foreign pitcher this good? Phoenix’s GM is a legend…

└You’ve been in the bottom five for five years and you’re bragging after three games?

└Shut up.

└Sean is solid as a rock, LOL.

[Angels’ second batter hits the first pitch. Shortstop Cha Taehyun fields and throws for the out.]

└Just bow down to Cha Taehyun, LOL.

└Phoenix’s infield defense is like sleeping on a Simmons mattress, LOL.

└You can really feel that this year is different.

└That’s the power of Sean, LOL.

└White chocolate is fine, but black chocolate’s even better, LOL.

└LOL for real.

└You guys are nuts. That’s racist!

└We’re talking about chocolate, not race. Are you white chocolate or something?

└What…

As the foreign pitcher made his debut and smoothly retired the first two batters, the fans were ecstatic.

After all, how many times had Phoenix been burned by foreign players in the past?

There had been the pitcher who said he was homesick and never came back.

Then there was the overweight hitter who complained, “There’s a coin-sized hole in my knee,” and refused to play.

But now, with Andy and Sean off to a strong start, the fans couldn’t help but feel good.

—Crack!

Just then, the third batter connected with a fastball on the outside corner. It looked like a routine flyout, and Sean was already starting to walk off the mound with a grin.

However—

[Second pitch hit. Center fielder Jin Gyu-hyun commits an error. Double.]

└Jin Gyu-hyun, you idiot!

└How could you not catch that?!

└The outfield is full of Ji Chanwoos!

└Jin Chanwoo, for real…

“What…?”

Sean’s cheerful expression faded, replaced with confusion.

‘Okay, Sean. Stay calm. This used to be a last-place team. It’s not that surprising.’

After a couple of nods to himself, Sean returned to the mound and resumed pitching.

“Strike three—out!”

He struck out the next batter, ending the inning.

Back in the dugout, Sean sat next to Lee Suho, one of the few who could speak English.

“Hey, Suho… I’ve realized that pitchers need to finish the job by striking guys out themselves.”

Lee Suho nodded and patted Sean’s shoulder.

“Welcome to Phoenix, Sean. Welcome.”