Rural Ace

Episode 8. Spring Ghost (1)

Before leaving for spring camp, about 70 people, including the coaching staff and players, gathered.

Manager Song Moon-jung insisted on checking the players himself, so more people were included than other teams.

Among them, only two players were newly drafted rookies.

“Those two were a battery in high school, and they got picked first and second, right?”

“The young catcher looks like he dominated high school and wants to dominate the pros too.”

Being picked 1st and 13th overall means they have a lot of potential. To get picked that high, they must have been the best in high school baseball.

But how many people here haven’t dominated high school baseball before?

Even if this team was the lowest in the league, just being a pro meant they were all top players.

Especially since the team was filled with FA (free agent) players, it was even more competitive.

“That guy is Coach Seo’s son, right?”
“He looks relaxed.”
“Do you think he’ll pitch as well as his father?”
“If he does, he should go to Major League Baseball (MLB).”

Some players gathered in groups and chatted. Some stood awkwardly, some were tense like they were ready to jump, and some looked uninterested.

Seo Yae-seong was among them.

Next to him, Lee Byung-joo looked nervous, ready to react to anything. But Seo Yae-seong, despite being a rookie, seemed calm.

When Manager Song Moon-jung and the coaching staff appeared, the chatter stopped.

“Tsk. There are so many familiar faces. You all know who I am, right?”

Some players laughed.

It was natural that many people knew him.

Song Moon-jung was a veteran of KBO (Korean Baseball Organization) and had been around for a long time.

Many of the former stars recruited by the team had at least crossed paths with him.

This year’s coaching staff was impressive.

Aside from Song Moon-jung, there were two former Major League MVPs.

Some players were excited.

“I used to play with Tae-seong in the national team.”
“I made a great catch when Tae-seong was pitching in the WBC. He remembers me, right?”

But others felt uneasy.

‘Man, I can’t handle Seo Tae-seong’s personality.’
‘Seriously? Seo Tae-seong as the pitching coach at this point in my career?’
‘This is crazy. Song Moon-jung, Seo Tae-seong, and Park Jung-gu? I won’t even be able to breathe.’

The second group had better instincts.

The head coach, Park Jung-gu, was a two-time KBO home run champion and was also infamous for his bad temper.

Song Moon-jung casually greeted the players and then checked his watch.
“Alright, are you all ready to die? Let’s go.”

And with that, he turned around and started walking.

As the players followed, they noticed something unsettling.

“…The catchers are gonna die, aren’t they?”

“Doesn’t the battery coach’s eyes look strange?”

Timothy Goldberg, a muscular coach, was watching them with half-closed eyes.

—

The players greeted each other and boarded the plane.

At first, a few of them chatted, but most of them soon fell silent—either sleeping or focused on their own tasks.

This team was never particularly close.

If things went as expected, this team wouldn’t be very exciting to watch.

But there were changes.

Two expensive FA players who had been a waste of money left for other teams.

Two underappreciated players had joined.
All three foreign players were also replaced.

Since two former MLB stars were now coaching, it made sense to use their networks to bring in better talent.

The team’s starting pitchers had famous names, but their performances had been disappointing.

Jung Han-seung, a former wins leader, had lost his speed.

Jo Seong-gyu, a former strikeout leader, lacked stamina for starting.

Bang Min-soo, a former national team lefty, had become a home run machine.

If all three of them moved to the bullpen, then the starting rotation would likely include two foreign pitchers, FA signee Hwang Seung-tae, and me.

The last spot was uncertain. Anything could happen.

The team’s veteran catcher, Yoon Bong-wan, was still one of the best in the league, but at 35 years old, he couldn’t play full-time due to frequent injuries.

The infield, except for one position, was filled with FA players—including a former home run king and a stolen base leader.

The outfield was in slightly better shape, especially with Kim Jae-beom joining.

Another foreign player, recommended by Timothy Goldberg, was also an outfielder.

This team had issues with defense and speed—not terrible, but with many older players, it was a weakness.

The biggest problem had been the pitching staff.

The expensive FA pitchers failed to eat innings, causing the bullpen to be overworked all season.

Well…

I’ll let my father worry about the team.

I just need to focus on my own job.

Even if my father gets fired, that doesn’t mean I’ll be kicked out too, right?

—

Spring camp for the Gangwon Minors was held in Arizona, USA.

Compared to last year’s spring training, this camp was completely different.

“This is a total mess,” Manager Song Moon-jung clicked his tongue.

Next to him, head coach Park Jung-gu coldly scanned the training field.

“How many should we send back to Korea?”

The Minors’ coaching staff included Seo Tae-seong, who was rumored to be the next manager before he even started coaching.

Working under a strong manager and his likely successor wasn’t easy. It could become political.

But Park Jung-gu was Seo Tae-seong’s high school junior and had always respected him.

After high school, he followed Seo Tae-seong to MLB but never made a big impact there.

He was sometimes in sports news but never had a full-time starting position.

However, one moment stood out—when he punched a 2-meter-tall white player during a bench-clearing fight and roared in victory.

That moment became more famous than any home run he had hit.

After returning to KBO, he won two home run titles.

Even in Korea, he brought the MLB-style bench-clearing fights.
Most of his victims were foreign pitchers because Korean players avoided fighting him.

“You always solve things with violence…”

“Did I go too far?”

“Not too far, but…”

Song Moon-jung was known for intense training.
But he didn’t micromanage it.

When he said “self-training,” he didn’t mean choosing how much to train.
He meant choosing what kind of training to do.

He would let the players train on their own, but he’d sit nearby, watching until he was satisfied.

Right now was that “self-training” time.

Sending players home early from spring camp sent a clear message:
Work hard, or you’ll be next.

“Jung-gu.”

“Yes.”

“I never thought of myself as old.”

“Yes.”

“But those guys seem to think I am.”

There was meaning behind his words.

Some players test new managers.

Some lazy FA players just want to relax and finish their careers quietly.

That attitude could spread and hurt the whole team.

Park Jung-gu understood.

It was an old-school method, but punishing one or two players would fix the problem.

“But…”

“Yes?”

“Why is that guy training instead of making the players train?”

The ‘guy’ the manager was talking about was none other than pitching coach Seo Tae-seong.

Of course, he was training the players, but he was also sweating alongside them.

“He says he’s building his body so that if someone who throws worse than him talks back, he’ll send them to the second team.”

“What a crazy guy.”

“Should I stop him?”

“Leave him be. He wouldn’t listen anyway.”

“That’s true.”

“You don’t go that crazy, okay? I’ll have a hard time.”

—

The training atmosphere at spring camp was a little chaotic.

Some of the veteran players were cautiously testing the waters, while others were training hard.

The younger players, on the other hand, seemed unsure of how to match the rhythm.

This team didn’t have a veteran to lead the atmosphere. Since the players came from different teams, it was understandable.

Even those who were training hard were doing it alone.

“Hyung, aren’t you working too hard?”

“If you get on Manager Song Munjeong’s bad side, you’re done for. Seriously.”

“Come on, would he really do that to you?”

“The ones who think like that are always the first to go down.”

Some players were trying to gauge what kind of style the new manager and coaches had.

“But still, do you think it’ll be like the old days?”

“I bet that old man hasn’t changed. That’s why I’m training, man.”

Before returning to the past, there had been a rift because of the pitching coach.

The veterans were left alone since they were expected to manage themselves, while the younger players were ruthlessly disciplined.

Meanwhile, some players were outright slacking off.

“The weather’s nice.”

“Yeah.”

“I wish I could close my eyes and open them a year from now.”

“Same.”

Some players couldn’t decide which side to follow.

“…Hey, Yae seong.”

“What?”

“You know Goldberg, the coach.”

“Yeah.”

Byeongju’s expression was a bit strange. He knew that I had been training with him all winter.

“I was really looking forward to it, you know? When else would I get to train under a Major League MVP catcher? But…”

“But he just keeps making you do weight training?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s how it was for me all winter.”

“…”

After finishing my run, I lay down and simply lifted my thickened arm.

Despite his extremely macho appearance, Timothy Goldberg was surprisingly knowledgeable about strength training. He understood exactly what muscles pitchers needed, and since he had been a catcher himself, he also knew what muscles were essential for catchers. The same applied to hitters, as he had been a successful one too.

“Just do what he says.”

“Right? I mean, he’s an MLB MVP after all…”

This team didn’t seem to have changed much, but in reality, it had changed quite a lot. Maybe this time, Byeongju will unlock his potential much sooner.

Speaking of changes, the foreign players were acting differently than expected.

Usually, foreign players received a slightly different level of treatment—not necessarily favoritism, but considerations were made for them due to their different backgrounds.

They were often given some conveniences in training, or allowances were made for cultural differences.

However, the foreign players this time were training even harder than the Korean players. It wasn’t that they had recruited players with an extraordinary work ethic…

The foreign batter, after receiving swing advice from an MLB MVP legend (who was technically the battery coach), was now swinging relentlessly, panting like a dog on a snowy day.

One of the foreign pitchers, Graham Donald Porter, had played in the Major Leagues just last year. He was apparently a huge fan of my father.

The other foreign pitcher was Harold Bradshaw, a 35-year-old left-hander who had played in the U.S., Japan, and Taiwan.

Some questioned why such an aging player had been recruited, but my father had unwavering faith in him.

And at the very least, Bradshaw was training harder than anyone at camp.

I was resting for a moment, lost in thought, when suddenly, a bearded white man’s face popped up next to me.

“Hey, boys! Are you giving your muscles a vacation?”

Byeongju yelped in shock and fell backward as if he had seen a ghost.

I, on the other hand, immediately sprang to my feet and shouted.

“Vacations are a luxury for muscles!”

“That’s the spirit!”

I might have lost my mind a long time ago. The scent of iron seemed to linger faintly in the air.

Goldberg shouted again.

“It’s time to meet your girlfriend! Say her name!”

I let go of all hesitation.

“My girlfriend’s name is Barbell, Coach!”

“…”

Byeongju stared at me as if I had gone completely insane.