Rural Ace

Chapter 3: The Rich Kid (3)

Father, still jet-lagged, had wine with Mother last night.

The next morning, he woke up barely able to open his eyes and said to me, “Son, wanna play catch?”

“Sure.”

I couldn’t even remember the last time we played catch.

Back when we lived together in the U.S., our relationship wasn’t so bad.

“But there’s something I’m curious about,” he said.

“What is it?”

“Weren’t you originally a right-handed pitcher?”

I was a right-handed pitcher back in middle school when I played baseball in the U.S. But after returning to Korea, I switched to left-handed.

It wasn’t easy, but I adapted quickly.

“Yeah, I was.”

“Did you switch because left-handed pitchers have an advantage?”

In baseball, it’s common for right-handed players to switch to left-handed because left-handed pitchers often have an edge.

But that wasn’t why I switched.

I thought about making up an excuse but decided to be honest.

I’m pretty embarrassed about my past self.

“I switched because you’re right-handed.”

“Huh?”

“I mean… back then, I just wanted to do everything the opposite of you.”

“Really? Did you hate me that much?”

I awkwardly laughed.

It’s funny, but it’s true.

“And there’s something else I didn’t tell you yesterday.”

“What is it?”

“I kept changing my pitching form and messed up my arm because…”

“Huh?”

“I was trying to throw faster than you. I wanted to beat you at something.”

Back then, I was obsessed with surpassing Father’s 101 mph fastball.

“Ah…”

“You don’t have to say it. I know.”

Father’s awkward cough made me even more embarrassed about my past.

He seemed pretty shocked by my reason for switching to left-handed.

He stayed quiet most of the way to the field but finally spoke up as we got closer.

“Well, being left-handed is better anyway.”

“…”

“Even if you end up in the bullpen when you’re older, being left-handed could buy you an extra season or two.”

“Yeah…”

“And…”

“No, Father. Let’s just forget about my dark past…”

“Alright.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it all was.

Seeing me laugh, Father chuckled too, probably thinking the same thing.

At first, our catch was awkward but warm.

But as we got into it, our competitive spirits kicked in, and we started throwing as hard as we could.

I was excited to test my strength, but Father, who had been retired for years and was still feeling the effects of last night, was struggling.

“Is this all you’ve got? A 19-year-old with a fresh arm, and this is it?”

“Your legs are shaking, though.”

“It’s just cold, that’s all.”

Honestly, I wasn’t in great shape either.

I’d been throwing recklessly without knowing my limits, so I wasn’t feeling too great either.

We laughed together, less awkwardly than before.

“By the way, you said you’d help me out now that we’re in Korea.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“How are you going to help?”

“These days, Major Leaguers rely a lot on equipment. I’ll bring some gear, get someone to manage it, and even find a catcher for you.”

“Do we really need to bring a catcher from the U.S.?”

“Yeah, there’s someone I know. Timothy Goldberg.”

“Timothy Goldberg?”

“Yeah, he’ll come running if I call him.”

Timothy Goldberg is a Major League catcher who hit 40 home runs and won multiple World Series titles with Father.

So, he’s going to call someone like that to catch my pitches?

Is he joking?

“Why? Feeling the pressure?”

I laughed, not knowing what to say.

“No. I’d love to throw a few pitches with him behind the plate.”

“Think I’m kidding?”

“No.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“Did you learn mind-reading or something?”

—

“Are you really going to wrap everything up?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going to settle everything and move back to Korea?”

“That’s right.”

Seo Tae seong noticed his wife, Baek Yoona, brightened up at first, but then her expression turned slightly doubtful.

“It’s time to spend more time with family,” he said.

Baek Yoona smiled faintly and joked, “So, you’re going to be a full-time househusband now?”

“No, I’m thinking of helping out Yae-seong a bit.”

“How? By getting a job as a pitching coach?”

“Something like that.”

“Really?”

“Really. Why? Think I’m lying?”

Seeing how serious he was, Baek Yoona realized he meant it and was surprised.

She had wanted him to come back to Korea and live together for a while, but he still had business in the U.S.

“Then I guess we really need to wrap things up.”

“I’m not joking. Take care of my shares for me. And bring Timothy along on the way back.”

“Why Timothy?”

“So he can catch Yae-seong’s pitches.”

“Ha. But am I going alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I want to spend some time with Yae-seong.”

Baek Yoona burst out laughing.

“What, you’re going to take him to an amusement park or something?”

“He’s almost an adult. You think he’d want to go to an amusement park with his dad?”

“Maybe buy him some balloons…”

“Sure, he’d love that.”

“Or attend parent-teacher meetings.”

“What are you talking about? Anyway, are you really going through with this?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Won’t you regret it?”

“If I don’t do it now, I think I’ll regret it even more.”

Baek Yoona had wanted this for a long time, and now that it was happening, she wanted to wrap things up quickly before Seo Tae seong changed his mind.

“Should I just handle the shares?”

“Möllen’s been eyeing my shares for a while.”

“You said you’d rather die than hand them over to Möllen.”

“What’s the point of that? He’ll pay the most.”

“Wow, you’ve really grown up.”

Maybe he had finally grown up in his second life.

Seo Tae sepng smiled and nodded.

If his son had returned to the past before the draft, it would’ve been fun to challenge the Major Leagues together.

“But if you say you’re going to be a coach, will they even accept you? Don’t you need some kind of certification?”

As Baek Yoona quickly looked up flight tickets, she casually threw out the question, and Seo Tae-seong got defensive.

“What? If Seo Tae Seong offers to coach, they should be bowing down in gratitude!”

Baek Yoona laughed at her husband’s reaction.

It was amusing to see Seo Tae seong’s pure side, something she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Did something happen while I wasn’t looking?”

Seo Tae-seong made a face that was somewhere between a smile and a frown.

“Something did happen. But it’s a secret. I can’t tell you until I die.”

“Really?”

Seeing how casually Baek Yoona reacted after asking, Seo Tae-seong almost spilled his long-kept secret but held back.

And in a low voice, he argued, “I have a lot of certifications, you know?”

“Like your driver’s license?”

—

Mother left for the U.S. to wrap up Father’s business, and Father somehow ended up as a temporary coach for the baseball team.

“Why can’t you do this? Why don’t you understand? No, it’s forbidden. Don’t get visibly angry just because they don’t get it.”

“…Do you really think I’d do that?”

Teaching high school pitchers might be too harsh for Father.

He’d never coached anyone or been involved in baseball since retiring.

“Don’t push yourself too hard. If it’s too much, just sign some autographs, take some pictures, and come home.”

“Why? You think I can’t teach properly?”

“Geniuses are like that, you know.”

“Why can’t you throw like this? Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Exactly. Haven’t you ever felt that way?”

The fact that he didn’t deny it made me think he’d felt that way before… with me.

“Did you feel that way when you were teaching me as a kid?”

“Huh?”

Was he caught off guard?

I think I’m right.

“I felt that way with a lot of people, not just you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. And actually, I do have some certifications.”

“What kind?”

“Coaching certifications.”

Father had been quietly earning coaching certifications and studying.

He wanted to teach me properly someday, not just wing it.

“…I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t do much either…”

We got a little awkward again.

This might keep happening, but maybe it’s part of the process of getting better.

Father wanted to help me, but before I returned to the past, that never happened.

Looking back now, I think both of us had short tempers, and that’s why things escalated.

I didn’t want to admit it back then, but I think sons inevitably take after their fathers.

“Tsk. I knew this would happen.”

When we arrived at the training ground, a few reporters were there.

How predictable.

Father hadn’t been involved in Korean baseball since retiring.

But now he’s showing up at a high school baseball team to coach young pitchers?

What better publicity could there be for the team?

“Just as planned. Right?”

Father smiled as he said that.

He had expected this.

And he thought it might help.

“Yeah.”

I’m not sure what Father’s planning, but I can play along for now.

I stood next to Father, letting the reporters take our pictures.

—

*The lesson begins*

“There’s no right way to grip the ball. You guys know Ezekiel Quoarta, right?”

“Yes!”

The baseball team’s eyes lit up as they listened to Father.

Ezekiel Quoarta was Father’s former teammate, a Major League pitcher with over 400 saves.

“He had this weird slider.”

If anyone else called Ezekiel Quoarta “he” and laughed, they’d be called out for being arrogant, but Father had the career to back it up.

“His slider was kind of strange, right?”

The students laughed.

Ezekiel Quoarta’s slider was infamous for its bizarre movement.

“He threw his slider with a knuckle-curve grip. When I asked him why he threw it like that, you know what he said?”

“No.”

“He said if it wasn’t me asking, he’d have bitten my head off.”

Everyone laughed again.

Ezekiel Quoarta was known for his eccentric personality.

“Anyway, as long as it works for you, it doesn’t matter how you grip it or how weird your form is. That’s just how it is in this world. If you’re lucky, you can be the best even if you do things the same as everyone else, but that’s not common.”

Father took the pitchers aside and gave them individual tips.

He talked about narrowing their stride for better control, fixing their form when throwing curveballs, and shortening their stride.

Honestly, he was better at this than I expected.

“Your dad is nothing like you described.”

Lee Byungju, who had been my catcher throughout high school and was drafted by the same team as me, nudged me and said.

I couldn’t even remember what I used to say about Father back then.

Anyway, we were pretty close.

We were both drafted by Gangwon Miners—me in the first round, Byungju in the second.

The media made a big deal about the Miners picking the best high school battery in the draft.

“Did I?”

I couldn’t really remember what I used to say.

And things are so different now.

I just laughed it off, and Byungju didn’t press further.

Father gave each pitcher one-on-one lessons and talked to the fielders about hitting from a pitcher’s perspective, as well as defensive and base-running strategies that could lead the team to victory.

“Selfless play doesn’t diminish your value. In fact, players who do that well tend to have longer careers. Anyway, I hope today was a good experience for you.”

The players all applauded.

Father didn’t coach me separately, and I watched him teach the other players while I went through group training.

“We’re doing one-on-one training separately.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not upset that I’m not coaching you in front of your friends, are you?”

“Huh?”

Father smiled strangely.

Hmm…

I’ve told him several times that I’m living a second life, but it doesn’t seem to sink in.

—

*The pitcher’s mound*

When was the last time I saw my son pitch?

Seo Tae-seong felt a little awkward.

During his playing days, he’d come home after long stretches on the road to find his son’s clothes had grown bigger.

He couldn’t help but feel how lucky this was.

His son had returned to the past? If he hadn’t experienced it himself, he would’ve never believed it.

But knowing his son was falling apart and doing nothing about it…

It wasn’t something he had done, but it was definitely his actions.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

In the training ground, only Father, son, and the son’s friend remained.

As he watched his son prepare to pitch, Seo Tae-seong felt a strange tension.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way.

Seo Yae-seong seemed a little nervous too, taking a deep breath before starting his pitching motion.

The grip on the ball showed strength, and the rotation of his shoulders and waist was powerful.

The extension of his arm was explosive, and the stride was smooth.

But something about the weight shift felt off.

*Thud!*

‘Hmm.’

The radar gun showed 157 km/h. Fast, but the pitch was flat.

“Let me try changing my form.”

After nodding, my son prepared to pitch again.

His left hand tucked behind his body, and his rotation slowed into a rhythmic motion.

The stride became more stable, and the arm angle dropped slightly from a full overhand.

The ball left his hand.

This time, his left leg didn’t swing out as much, and he regained his balance immediately.

*Thud!*

This time, the speed seems slower, but the pitch felt heavier and lower, with a sharp movement just before the plate.

The radar gun showed 150 km/h.

The speed had dropped, but Seo Tae-seong couldn’t help but smile.