The Extra in a Baseball Novel

“Ah! Ji Chanwoo, seriously!!”

Shin Hayoon slammed her desk as she watched the broadcast on her computer.

They were so close… A perfect game was within reach! But Ji Chanwoo had blown it in such a disappointing way.

Of course, since it was recorded as an error, the chance for a no-hitter was still alive, and that was still a remarkable achievement.

“…But it’s such a shame, really.”

She couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Sighing, Shin Hayoon searched for Ji Chanwoo’s stats.

563 games played in total, with a career WAR of 0.98.

In other words, with these kinds of stats, he’s not exactly a starter material, right?

Surprisingly enough, there was no other shortstop, aside from Cha Taehyun, who could take Ji Chanwoo’s place.

It clearly showed how incompetent Phoenix’s coaching staff had been all this time.

“Well… the coaches have been replaced, so hopefully, they’ll develop him better now…”

In any case, Ji Chanwoo’s batting had improved over the last two years, even if his defense hadn’t. Last year, he recorded a career-high batting average of .270.

The defensive coaches had been replaced too, so if his defense improved a bit, he could at least serve as Cha Taehyun’s backup…

Just as Shin Hayoon was clinging to some hopeful thoughts, Cha Taehyun’s face zoomed in on the screen as he approached the batter’s box.

“He’s angry, isn’t he?”

It was rare to see him show any signs of anger. Actually, had he ever shown it before?

At least, from what Shin Hayoon could recall, he hadn’t. But if he were angry, this would be the face he’d make.

“His angry face… doesn’t look bad either… Wait, what am I saying?”

Shin Hayoon slapped her cheeks to shake off the thoughts and focused on the screen, preparing to clip the video.

This was her favorite moment lately—watching the player she had coached succeed brilliantly. It felt amazing.

Especially when it was her favorite player, Cha Taehyun, who was doing well.

“Wait…?”

Her favorite?

“Do I… like Cha Taehyun?”

“What… what am I even thinking… No, no, no!”

Was it real? Had she really started to develop feelings for him?

Shin Hayoon was nervously pacing, having a mini-panic attack, when suddenly—

CRACK!

A monstrous sound of a hit echoed, and the ball shot off fiercely. Shin Hayoon immediately focused back on the screen, tilting her head in confusion.

“Did he put in more strength because he was angry?”

The speed and power of the ball were abnormal. It stretched out like it was unhindered, and then disappeared beyond the stadium’s limits.

“Wow… How far did that go?”

As she marveled, the screen displayed the distance of the hit, as if in response.

“One… one hundred fifty-two meters…? Isn’t that a record?”

The distance was so ridiculous she wondered if it was measured incorrectly. The chat was exploding with reactions.

└ What the heck, 152m? LOL A home run of fury, haha

└ For reference, 152m is the longest distance in KBO history, insane

└ Taehyun is a legend!

└ Taehyun: ‘Missed the record, so I made another one’

└ Unbelievable that he’s Korean, lol

└ Even crazier that he’s on Phoenix

└ So happy that Taehyun is on our team!

“Yes! That’s it, Cha Taehyun!”

Still seated, Shin Hayoon raised both arms in the air and shook them wildly, only to lose her balance and crash backward with a thud.

“Ouch!”

Tears welled up from the pain of hitting her head, but the excitement couldn’t be contained.

“Longest… longest home run!”

She laughed through the pain, celebrating Cha Taehyun’s new record.

Cha Taehyun added another home run in the top of the ninth inning, then climbed back to the mound in the bottom of the ninth, striking out one more batter to finish the game with a clean three outs.

The Phoenix won 2-0.

When it was time for the MVP interview, the choice was obvious.

“And today’s MVP is Cha Taehyun!”

└ MVP doesn’t even cover it, honestly LOL

└ They need a hard-carry award just for him LOL

└ Taehyun is practically a god at this point

└ That’s already been confirmed in the Phoenix fanbase

“You made your debut today and hit 4 at-bats, 2 home runs, and 4 hits. But that’s not all, folks! Taehyun also shined as a pitcher today! Let’s take a look at his pitching stats!”

[9 innings, 0 earned runs, 0 hits, 0 walks, 0 home runs…]

“Mr. Zero himself! But that’s not all either! Let’s also show the amazing records Cha Taehyun set today!”

[16 flawless innings (1st ever)]

[18 strikeouts in regulation innings (Korean record)]

[Flawless debut innings (1st ever)]

[Debut no-hitter (1st ever)]

[First at-bat home run debut]

[Multi-home run debut (1st ever)]

[Longest home run (152m)]

“Wow… A debut no-hitter, multi-home run, and longest home run ever! How many records has he broken today?”

└ Insane…

└ What is this?

└ I can’t even believe it anymore LOL

└ I used to roll my eyes when people called him a god, but now I’m praying too

The announcer flipped through the cue cards and hesitated for a moment. The next question didn’t seem right.

[Doesn’t it feel a bit disappointing that you missed out on the perfect game?]

‘How could it not be disappointing?’

The announcer felt sorry for whoever wrote the question. But since it was on the script, they had to ask.

“You’ve set so many incredible records today, but… you missed the perfect game. Do you feel disappointed?”

The announcer expected Cha Taehyun to look troubled or hesitate with his answer.

It was the kind of question that could easily backfire, potentially putting a teammate in a tough spot.

“There’s no reason to be disappointed.”

Cha Taehyun’s unexpected response made the announcer’s eyes widen.

“Pardon? No reason to be disappointed?”

Cha Taehyun suddenly locked eyes with the camera, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Wouldn’t it be more epic to win the Korean Series with a perfect game? That’s why there’s no need to feel disappointed.”

The announcer gaped like a hippo, then burst into a wide grin, giving Cha Taehyun a big thumbs-up.

“What a fantastic mindset! It could have been a letdown, but instead, you’re aiming to win the Korean Series with a perfect game. Your ambition is truly admirable, Taehyun!”

└ Taehyun is a legend for real

└ He could have completely thrown Ji Chanwoo under the bus here, but he didn’t. Respect.

└ Honestly, Ji Chanwoo’s image is already in the gutter, though.

└ If Taehyun had really gone for it, Chanwoo would’ve been done for.

└ True, though. Taehyun probably could have destroyed him if he wanted to LOL.

Just when it seemed like the interview was wrapping up, some staff members approached with two baseballs in hand.

“These are your first and second home run balls from today’s game! Fortunately, two Phoenix fans retrieved them and asked that we make sure to give them to you.”

While symbolic home run balls, like one’s debut home run, are often tracked down by staff, it was heartwarming to see fans voluntarily return them.

Smiling, Cha Taehyun excused himself for a moment, running off somewhere before returning with two bats and a marker.

Kneeling down, he signed the bats quickly and handed them to the staff.

“Could you give these bats to the fans who returned the home run balls?”

The announcer beamed warmly at the gesture, adding a comment.

“What a kind player! Not only is he incredibly skilled in baseball, but he also has a great heart. We’ll make sure to deliver these bats to the fans personally! Now, could you share your thoughts on tomorrow’s game?”

Cha Taehyun grabbed the microphone and confidently replied, “I’ll win tomorrow too, and bring us even closer to the championship.”

└ Haha, he’s already talking about the championship after just one win.

└ Seriously, I love this guy LOL.

└ You guys know Phoenix is in first place right now, right?

└ Yeah, with only one win under their belt, LOL.

└ Still, being in first place feels great, doesn’t it?

└ True, the air is fresh up here LOL.

└ Better enjoy it while it lasts LOL.

Back at the team’s accommodations, the players were paired up two to a room. Today, Cha Taehyun was sharing with his senior, Sihwan.

“Oh, Taehyun, Chanwoo came looking for you earlier.”

“Chanwoo sunbae did?”

“Yeah… how should I say it, because of what happened today…”

“You mean the perfect game?”

“Ah, yeah, that. He said he wanted to apologize to you. He waited here for a while but eventually left.”

Hmm… I didn’t know that.

I had several missed calls from an unknown number—could that have been Chanwoo sunbae?

“Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t want to see Chanwoo’s face for a while either. Not that I’m trying to comfort you or anything, just being honest.”

It seemed like Sihwan was misunderstanding something.

“I was upset for a moment, but I’m fine now. I didn’t come back late because I didn’t want to see Chanwoo sunbae or because I was shocked over the perfect game being ruined.”

In truth, I had a fantastic time.

Not that I could tell him I spent a long time snuggled in Mi-yeon teacher’s arms as an excuse for the perfect game slip-up.

“Really? Even if it were me, I wouldn’t want to face Chanwoo for a while.”

That’s the reaction of a normal person, but my personality doesn’t hold grudges as long as someone doesn’t cross the line.

Ruining the perfect game didn’t feel like crossing a line… it wasn’t intentional, after all.

I could be mad at the play, but I couldn’t be mad at the person.

“No matter what, I think that’s impressive. I really respect that mindset. Oh, and thank you.”

“Huh?”

Suddenly, Sihwan climbed down from his bed and gave me a deep, 90-degree bow.

“You know that feedback material you gave me last time? The one from your friend who’s preparing to be a coach?”

Ah, Shin Hayoon’s material?

I had given it to him at Hayoon’s request, but it was only based on feedback from one game, so I didn’t think it was anything special.

“To be honest, I was skeptical since it was from someone prepping to be a coach, but it actually helped a lot.”

Even that short feedback helped? Was this the magic of Shin Hayoon, who had propelled the Dynos to the playoffs in no time?

“So, does that mean you’ve improved your control?”

If that’s the case, it’s really good news. If Sihwan, with his refined control, joins Phoenix’s bullpen, he could instantly become a crucial relief pitcher.

“Well… not quite yet. But I feel like I’m on the verge of figuring it out? Before, I could only land 2 out of 10 pitches for strikes. Now, I feel like I could land 5. If I aim for the center of the strike zone, maybe 7.”

5 out of 10, and aiming for the center could get 7?

That’s actually really good.

It might sound like nonsense to anyone else, but that’s just the level of Phoenix’s bullpen right now.

“So, uh… could you introduce me to that friend of yours? I’d like to get some direct coaching if possible.”

That wouldn’t be a problem…

But why did I suddenly feel reluctant?

“Let’s stick with receiving feedback material for now. If we need more later, I’ll ask her for you.”

“Oh…? Yeah, that makes sense. Your friend must be busy too.”

Lee Sangjin was surprisingly sensitive when it came to sleeping, especially given his large frame. During his rookie days, he had struggled to sleep at away game accommodations, finding it hard to rest.

Though things weren’t as bad now, he was still sensitive to disturbances.

—Sniff… sniff…

Even though the sobbing was quiet, Lee Sangjin couldn’t help but wake up.

‘He’s acting like he’s okay, but…’

Lee Sangjin let out a small sigh.

It hadn’t even been a few hours since the huge error.

Ji Chanwoo was currently the target of brutal criticism, not only from Phoenix fans but even from other team’s fans who found his mistake hard to watch.

Even within his own team, the coaches and manager hadn’t held back from expressing their disappointment.

Well… it was understandable. That kind of defense deserved the criticism it got. His play was so bad, there was no retort to “Are you even a pro?”

Still, Lee Sangjin couldn’t bring himself to criticize Ji Chanwoo. And if you’d been with Phoenix for a long time, you probably couldn’t either.

Before Coach Lee Eun-seok took over, while everyone else was lazily going out to drink, Ji Chanwoo had been staying late, practicing his batting alone.

If the previous coaches hadn’t clocked out right after practices, Ji Chanwoo probably would have stayed to practice fielding as well.

His work ethic had always been clear—he put in more effort than anyone.

It’s truly unfair how talent works.

Though Ji Chanwoo had made it this far in the pros, which meant he wasn’t without talent, his abilities were just so… frustratingly average. And that might have been even more cruel.

Ji Chanwoo had probably been whipping himself, constantly striving for something just out of his reach.

And now Cha Taehyun had appeared.

A rookie, taking his position and proving himself in just one game. How must Ji Chanwoo feel, watching that?

For Ji Chanwoo, watching someone effortlessly achieve what he’d worked so hard for must have felt…

—Sniff…

Another quiet sob echoed through the room. Though he tried to suppress it, Lee Sangjin’s sharp ears caught the sound.

Lee Sangjin carefully grabbed his phone and changed his alarm time.

—Buzz!Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The alarm vibrated, and Lee Sangjin, still facing away, spoke.

“Ah… I set the alarm wrong… Sorry about that, Chanwoo. Did I wake you?”

“…Yes. But it’s okay.”

“Really? I’m the type who finds it hard to fall back asleep after waking up. Do you want to go toss a ball around with me for a bit?”

A moment later, Ji Chanwoo replied.

“…Yes, sure.”

“Great. Take your time, though. I’m going to step out for a smoke first.”

With that, Lee Sangjin headed out and stopped by the convenience store.

When he came out of the store, he was holding two cans of Zero Cider.

Taking a sip, Lee Sangjin mumbled to himself.

“I bet Chanwoo doesn’t even know I don’t smoke…”

By the time he finished the cider, he saw Ji Chanwoo approaching in the distance, wearing a cap. Clearly, he didn’t want to show his face, even at night.

Lee Sangjin chuckled and handed him a can of cider.

“You’ll do better next time.”

Ji Chanwoo flinched slightly at the comment.

“You did your best with the opportunity you were given. These things happen. But you know, it’s your responsibility to make up for it. You get that, right? That’s what being a pro is.”

“Yes… I understand.”

Lee Sangjin gave a light tap to Ji Chanwoo’s shoulder with his glove and continued.

“The coaching staff has changed. No more coaches clocking out early. So, make sure to ask for extra fielding practice every day. You’ve worked hard on your batting, and it’s improved. There’s no reason you can’t do the same for your defense.”

“…Thank you.”

“Thank me? For what… It’s fine. Today’s just the beginning. Now, go stand over there. I’m going to throw ground balls to you all day.”

“Huh? But don’t you have a game tomorrow…?”

“Do you really think I’m going to spend all day throwing to you? Be smart.”

“Ah… Yes!”

“Good. Let’s start with the same course that ruined Taehyun’s perfect game.”

“I’m… I’m sorry!”

“Haha! Don’t apologize to me. Say that to Taehyun tomorrow. Now, catch this!”

The ball rolled towards him.

The same course, the same speed as the one in the eighth inning.

Why had it been so hard to catch that simple ball?

‘If I hadn’t felt the pressure of protecting the perfect game…’

No. That was a pathetic excuse. If he couldn’t handle that pressure, that’s why he kept making mistakes.

All he needed to do was get the ball into his glove like this…

A little grip, and it’s caught.

What more is there to it?

“That’s it! Just like that! Did you hear Taehyun’s interview today? Do it like that when you’re in the Korean Series!”

With his lips slightly trembling, Ji Chanwoo wiped his eyes with his arm and shouted.

“Yes!!”

Even after everything, Ji Chanwoo still wanted to keep playing baseball.