Episode 7: The Name of Competition
The June sunlight had grown even hotter.
Players began gathering at the Hanseong Little Baseball Team earlier than usual.
They had an in-house evaluation game scheduled to decide the final roster for next month's regional league.
A single sheet of white paper was posted at the entrance to the practice field.
“Regional League Roster Announcement Coming Soon”
The players wore different expressions when they saw the notice.
Some were excited, some were nervous, and some were doing their best to pretend they were calm.
Junho stared at the paper for a moment before quietly taking out his glove.
“Junho.”
Minjae walked up beside him.
“It starts for real today.”
Junho smiled as he asked, “It's just an evaluation game. Are you really that nervous?”
Minjae laughed playfully, but his expression quickly turned serious.
“Our team has a lot of competition.”
“Especially in the outfield.”
At those words, Junho naturally looked toward the outfield.
Seongmin was already practicing his throws alone while taking fungoes.
There was no wasted motion in the way he caught the ball.
Anyone could tell he was an experienced player.
Junho watched him quietly.
“He really is good.”
Just then, Seongmin noticed Junho.
Their eyes met for a moment.
Seongmin said nothing and simply continued practicing.
But his gaze was no longer as cold as before.
Coach Oh Sejin blew his whistle.
“Everyone in.”
The players formed a semicircle.
The coach began writing today's schedule on the whiteboard.
① Defensive evaluation
② Hitting evaluation
③ Baserunning evaluation
④ In-house game
“Today, I'm looking at the process more than the results.”
The coach's voice rang across the field.
“It's okay to make mistakes.”
“But you can't repeat the same mistake.”
As Junho listened, he thought of Coach Jeong Seonghwan.
The wording was different, but the meaning was similar.
A good coach cared more about what a player did next than about the mistake itself.
The first practice was outfield defense.
Coach Oh Sejin used the pitching machine to send one high fly ball after another into the air.
First was Seongmin.
A clean catch.
Second was another outfielder.
A routine play.
Third.
“Junho.”
Junho walked out to center field.
The ball launched from the machine went higher than he expected.
Riding a strong wind, it curved sharply to the right.
Junho didn't watch the ball for long.
He felt the wind once, then immediately started running to the right.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Then one final step.
Whap!
The ball disappeared into the exact center of his glove.
“Good.”
The coach's praise was brief.
But practice wasn't over.
This time, the ball was much more difficult.
It was a deep drive that carried all the way toward the fence.
Junho ran at full speed.
The fence was getting closer.
For a moment, he wondered whether he should slow down.
“No.”
Junho kept running to the very end.
The instant he launched himself—
Whap!
The ball went into his glove.
At the same time, though, his shoulder slammed hard into the fence.
Thud!
The impact echoed across the field.
“Junho!”
Minjae was the first to run over.
Junho grimaced for a moment, but soon got back to his feet.
“I’m fine.”
He opened his glove to show them.
He hadn't let go of the ball.
Coach Oh Sejin approached slowly.
“Why did you run all the way to the end?”
Junho caught his breath before answering.
“I thought I could catch it.”
The coach studied Junho for a moment, then nodded.
“That was a good call.”
But what he said next was unexpected.
“From now on, calculate the fence's position too.”
Junho looked puzzled.
“Catching the ball isn't all that matters.”
The coach lightly tapped the fence.
“Catching it without getting hurt is part of the skill, too.”
Junho slowly looked at the fence.
In soccer, he had calculated the movements of opposing players.
In baseball, he had to calculate the fence and the distance as well.
He once again realized how much he still had to learn.
Then he heard the coach calling names from in front of the whiteboard.
“Next is the in-house game.”
The coach began dividing the players into two teams.
In the end, only two names remained.
“Kang Junho.”
“Lee Seongmin.”
Both of them turned their eyes toward the coach.
Coach Oh Sejin said briefly, “There’s only one spot at center field today.”
The field fell silent.
Junho adjusted his glove.
Seongmin pulled his cap down low.
For the first time,
They were going head-to-head for the same position.
After Coach Oh Sejin finished speaking, the air on the field grew heavy.
“There’s only one spot at center field today.”
It was a short sentence, but its meaning was clear.
Junho and Seongmin.
There was a strong chance that only one of them would start at center field for the regional league.
After splitting the teams, the coach slowly added, “Don't try to beat your opponent.”
The players raised their heads.
“Show us your own baseball.”
The game began with Seongmin's team at bat.
Junho took his position in center field.
For some reason, standing in the outfield made him feel unusually calm.
Even with the tension of not knowing where the ball might fly, his field of vision seemed to widen instead.
The first batter.
A routine ground ball.
The infield handled it cleanly.
The second batter.
A walk.
The runner reached first.
The third batter.
Crack!
A hard-hit ball soared toward left-center.
The left fielder chased after it, but the ball carried farther than expected.
Junho was already running.
Toward where the ball would land before it got there.
As he pushed off the grass and sprinted, a memory suddenly flashed through his mind—the old soccer field, passing to Hyunwoo.
The ball was always faster than a person.
That was why a player had to read where the ball would arrive first.
The instinct was exactly the same in baseball.
Junho took one final, powerful step.
Whap!
The ball disappeared into his glove.
“Out!”
Applause rose from the stands.
Minjae, in the dugout, threw both hands into the air.
“Nice!”
Junho quietly threw the ball back into the infield.
Relief washed over him before joy could.
Bottom of the third.
This time, it was Junho's turn at bat.
The opposing pitcher was a left-hander with a good breaking ball.
First pitch.
A slider on the outside corner.
Junho held back.
Ball.
Second pitch.
Fastball.
Strike.
Third pitch.
A high curveball.
Junho didn't offer again.
Ball.
The count was two balls and one strike.
The pitcher let out a long breath.
Minjae shouted from the dugout.
“Good! Watch it all the way!”
Junho choked up on the bat.
He could see the pitcher's fingertips.
The pitcher's wrist was set a little more firmly than before.
“Fastball.”
The ball came straight down the middle.
Junho didn't hesitate.
Crack!
The sharp line drive headed up the middle.
It was a clean single.
After reaching first, Junho let out a small breath.
He was beginning to learn physically that he didn't need to take a huge swing.
Seongmin, meanwhile, wasn't about to fold easily either.
In the next inning,
he calmly handled a deep drive near the fence and stopped the runner from advancing to second with a quick throw.
Applause rose from the stands again.
Junho watched the play and felt genuine admiration.
“He really is good.”
It was a play he had no choice but to acknowledge, even from a competitor.
The game entered the final inning tied 2–2.
One out, runner on second.
The opposing cleanup hitter stepped into the batter's box.
A hard-hit ball.
The ball soared high between center and right.
For an instant, Junho and the right fielder ran toward it at the same time.
“Mine!”
Junho shouted.
In the past, he would have moved without saying anything.
But Coach Oh Sejin's words came back to him.
“Call it, confirm it, then move.”
The right fielder immediately slowed down.
Junho never took his eyes off the ball.
Whap!
The ball landed in his glove.
Two outs.
The runner was held at second.
For the first time, Coach Oh Sejin clapped loudly from the bench.
“That's it!”
Without realizing it, Junho smiled at those words.
Game over.
The Hanseong Little Baseball Team won 3–2.
The players removed their caps, bowed, and returned to the dugout.
Coach Oh Sejin studied the score sheet for a moment before speaking.
“Today's center field competition.”
The field fell silent.
Junho and Seongmin stood side by side.
“Both of you passed.”
The players began murmuring.
Seongmin looked surprised too.
The coach continued with a smile.
“Seongmin protected the team with his experience.”
“Junho saved the team with his judgment.”
He looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment.
“It wasn't about who was better.”
“You were players with different strengths.”
Junho turned those words over in his mind.
He had thought competition meant one person won and another person lost.
But Coach Oh Sejin was using competition to help both of them grow.
After practice ended,
Seongmin approached Junho first.
“You did well today.”
Junho smiled and held out his hand.
“So did you.”
As Seongmin shook his hand, he said, “I won't lose next time.”
Junho smiled too.
“Me neither.”
The two looked at each other and shared a brief laugh.
There was no jealousy or hatred in that laughter.
It held the respect that only players chasing the same goal could have.
Coach Oh Sejin, watching them, quietly closed his notebook.
“Competition isn't about taking someone's spot.”
He wrote one final line.
“It's about lifting each other higher.”