Whoops-! A man who has only traces of his handsome appearance when he was young, but still wears the aura of a superstar all over his body. Derek Jeter glared at a pitcher with his arms crossed and a blank expression on his face as he was engaged in personal training under tight security.
A word from a kid who joined the spring camp a day early at the earnest request of his old friends. while pondering that one word. 'Isn't that a sweetheart?' If one fierce rookie had been so excited about the invitation to spring camp and spoke without knowing it, he would have just looked cute and passed on. Because I know better than anyone how they are welcomed when they get to the major leagues. However.
- I have someone to fill my void.
- There is a player I want you to pay attention to this spring camp. If that rookie is the one who made his old friends fuss, it's a different story. Unfounded confidence is called Chigi, but grounded confidence is called Talent.
"Look at me, sweetheart." Just like him and his colleagues from ten years ago, he recalled his eyes filled with something. Derek Jeter fixed his gaze on the pitcher just starting the windup. And that moment.
"He came." A huge muzzle sounded over the sound of someone's words. Whoops-! As if that wasn't enough, Derek Jeter still looked ahead with his sharp eyes, without a blink of an eyebrow.
"No matter what anyone did, it's because of Yunan."
"Because it was worth it." Whoops-! A strong muzzle that cuts through the conversation. A man who has been rolling and rolling on a baseball board for decades has predicted the speed by sound alone.
"Around 100 miles, don't you think?"
"right. "
"Left-handed fireballer throwing 100 mph. He's great, but there's no way he'd made that much of a fuss... … ."
At the words of a close friend who asked with his tail twitching, Andy Pettit gave a subtle smile and threw a word out. "2001." moments when they failed. And when he heard it, a giant passed over Derek Jeter's head. Some superman he knows much better than pitcher Andy Pettitte.
"Randy?"
"yap."
Derek Jeter grinned and shook his head at Andy Pettitte's confident answer.
"Yeah, you're still Rookie. Even if the shilling is that much... … ."
But Derek Jeter didn't end there. Shoo-! Because from the hand of the pitcher standing in the bullpen, something that even the superman did not have came out. A high-level curve pouring down from the overhand form. "her!" Randy Johnson, who dominated the league with only a fastball and slider, but in fact, experts have been saying that if he had a curve, he would have been stronger. Because that's the kind of curve a tall fastball pitcher throws. There was nothing more to say about his overhand form.
"Now do you understand?"
Through the back of his head, the words of his close friend with a smile pierced through.
* * * **********************************************************************
The New York Yankees' spring camp fell into a quiet silence as if the noisy daytime was a lie. Shin Kim appeared in the indoor practice area provided inside.
"Whew… … ." In the same way as in the morning, Shin Kim, who had meticulously relaxed his body, swung his shoulders and headed to the front of the pitching board. 'Did Andy Pettitte sang it?' Before starting training, Kim Shin recalled the memories of the day as he rolled the ball in his hands as if consciously. The Yankees captain and the best of the pitching team watching his pitching with arms folded. 'Sometimes a drug dealer is helpful.' Still, in a position where he had to prove his ability as soon as possible, it was unexpected fortune to have the steadfast clubhouse leader caring about him. What is more, the leader is a respectable man who has broken through the age of drugs with a human body. 'But it's not like the tail is panting like a dog.' I wouldn't kick a rolling pumpkin, but I don't want to get down on his knees to eat it. Not like a kid who needs to be raised, but a beast that can discuss great powers together. Because that was a pitcher named Shin Kim.
"Ugh-!" Shin Kim's arm, who had winded up as hard as he could, brushing off his thoughts, brushed the floor like a whip.
"Ugh!" Whoops-! was the right hand.
* * * ***************************************************************************
The very day after pitcher Joe started his first training session.
Finally all the locker rooms have found their owners.
"Hey, how are you?"
"Don't be shy, Kano."
"It's been a long time since we met, but I'm picky."
Veterans represented by Derek Jeter, Mark Teixeira and Curtis Granderson. Built-in jugs represented by Robinson Cano and Brett Gardner. The players from the minor leagues are excited with expressions that they don't know if it's a dream or a birthday. Confident, naive prospects. Looking at Robinson Cano and Brett Gardner as they greet each other warmly, Shin Kim had an unbearable laugh. 'The smell of medicine vibrates.' Because Robinson Cano, second baseman currently battling for the best in the league, knew what cheating he was doing. Shin Kim looked at Robinson Cano with cold eyes for a moment, then turned his head to look at a man who was giving off the most terrible stench here. He's got 200 million and 75 million dollars, and he's not helping the team at all. Garbage occupies the top of the Yankees payroll, moaning from a sudden drop in grades and injuries after quitting drugs. Alex Rodriguez. Commonly known as A-rod. He has a very hard time putting up with the stench, but there is nothing he can do in his position now. We just have to wait for the rats to be swept away, according to the original future. Fortunately, the future was not far off.
"Whew… … ." Kim Shin sighed, pretending to take a deep breath, and then looked at the Asian man who was sitting quietly with his eyes closed to cleanse his eyes. Michael Finne, who joined the spring camp with a burnt body because of his poor self-management. Ivan Nova, who will show jagged ups and downs and become an ordinary player. A person different from those pitchers. 'Kuroda Hiroki.' A man of self-control (克己) who constantly drives himself by signing only a one-year contract even though he is close to 40. A loyal man who kicked off a huge down payment a year before his retirement and returned to his hometown to complete his career. A reliable comrade who will support him for years to come. In that atmosphere, like a ascetic monk, a smile barely appeared on Kim Shin's lips. '… … ?' A baseball flew towards him like a butterfly looking for honey. chin-! And following that, the king's message penetrated into Kim Shin's ear.
"Live pitching, okay?" The smile on Kim Shin's lips widened.
"Of course, Captain. "
* * * ************************************************************************
It wasn't the prospect who bombed the minor leagues, nor the veteran with a formidable aura, who drew the most attention at the well-packed Yankees spring camp. An Asian pitcher who flew from a country called Korea, where he doesn't even know where he is. Parachute was invited to spring camp with a contract worth $1.5 million even though there was no record of any competition. It was Shin Kim.
"What is that bastard?"
"Did you not hear me? This time, the leader suddenly... … ."
The main players who put their places on the 25-man roster were concerned that they would go down to the minors after a short while, but there is no way to think so easily about the minor leaguers who will become competitors right away. What's more, he couldn't look any better as the guy who didn't attend training on the first day was sitting in the locker room pretending to be stubborn. However, just as gossip about him came out among the crowd who had gathered here and there as if he was chasing Kim Shin, they were scratched in the back of the head.
"Live pitching, okay?"
"Of course, Captain." The Yankees captain pitches live to the parachute. Simply put, he was proposing a one-on-one match.
"Are you the one who can see the sprouts?"
"Let's go now! It's not easy to see the Captain's appearance like this." Weekends are interesting.
"Okay, let's see how good you are."
"But why is Mr. Jeter interested in a guy like that?"
"It's not Nanda." "Isn't that what the manager did?"
"Crazy, no matter how great the captain is, how about Mr. Jeter?"
Minor leaguers out of envy and jealousy. All players who participated in the Yankees spring camp ran out to the ground in an instant. And the person who appeared in front of them. A man with his arms folded looking at Derek Jeter and Shin Kim as they are warming up.
"Director?" Yankees manager Joe Girardi. It was a moment when doubts filled the eyes of the major leaguers who were only filled with interest.
* * * *************************************************************************
A neatly prepared ground. As if waiting, the coach appeared with the coach who was to act as the referee. Dozens of strong male friends staring intently at him. Meanwhile, Shin Kim grinned.
"Are you familiar with the rules?"
"yes."
This was a test that Jeter placed on him and an opportunity to imprint his existence in one shot. In a spirit of victory that was raised in an instant, Shin Kim could not erase the slight smile that appeared on his lips. As if uneasy about his appearance, Jeter recited the rules once again.
"If you get 3 out counts, you are done. An infield fly, an outfielder spot fly is an out. If you block without a goal, you win, and if you advance to 2nd or more, you win. OK?"
"Yes, I understand."
Explaining the rules and looking at Jeter's back as he headed to the plate, Shin Kim rolled the ball in his hand according to the routine. If he wins, it's as good as he wins, and if he shows a good figure even if he loses, his reputation will change one hundred and eighty degrees. Of course, I have no intention of losing. 'Even if it's not good because it seems to feed you... … .' However, he was the man who was not capable of overturning the set table. 'I will eat you delicious.' Shin Kim swung his arm, faithfully following the cries of his body to throw it quickly. I don't know who it is, but I give a heartfelt apology to the minor league catcher who was unfortunately dragged out. Whoops-! The ball, which left Shin Kim's hand, penetrated the catcher's mitt in 0.35 seconds. 100 miles. A harness that cannot be hit with the reaction speed of ordinary humans. A ball worthy of tribute to the catcher who caught it. However, that was not the only meaning of Shin Kim's first phrase. 'midst?' A ferocious smile hung on Jeter's lips as the trajectory dug into the middle as if to hit him. 'Yes, it should be like this.' Jeter, who watched the chogu with the heart of a master conceding the player, grabbed the bat again. 100 miles? It's fast, but it's just a ball I've hit countless times. Hitting is timing, and Derek Jeter was a great hitter who could get the timing just by looking at it once. Section 2. Right-! Jeter's bat let out a loud cry. However. 'Damn, I'm pushed!' Obviously, Derek Jeter is a great hitter who can get the timing of hitting just by seeing him once. But getting the timing and actually hitting the ball are two different things. His body, which was beginning to age, was a little slower than he thought.
"102 miles per hour." The ball came out of his fresh young body, just a little faster than he thought. "102 mph?"
"Holy S***!" Ignoring the hustle and bustle of the coach holding the speedgun, Jeter took a deep breath and repositioned himself. And the young challenger, who looked at the old lion for a moment, threw the ball in the same position. Right-!
"Foul!" Shin Kim knew very well how deadly a fast ball could be to an old hitter. He was also not like an adult gentleman who looked after the enemy's weaknesses. 'Where, shall we try it properly?' Rather, it was a beast that tenaciously bit its weakness. Boo woo woo-! Fastball, fastball, and fastball again. The king of New York collapsed in front of Shin Kim's fastball that dug into every corner of the strike zone.
"out!"
At that moment, a Hispanic who was watching the scene lit up. 'Maybe this?'
