Chapter 19
19. Catcher Combination
Thirty minutes before Seo Ji-tae arrived.
Inside the Lexington Swords manager’s office.
The manager flipped through several pages on his desk and gave a disbelieving laugh.
“They really treasure this kid.”
The papers were a special management manual sent directly by the front office for Seo Ji-tae.
The manager had already informed him about the front office’s testing order.
First start, right-handed.
Second start, left-handed.
“They’re treating him like a superstar already. Is he really that good?”
It was a complicated order from above, so he had no choice but to follow it.
But what surprised him most was the clause printed in red at the bottom.
[To protect the sixteen-year-old minor and manage his shoulder, his pitch count must remain strictly below seventy pitches per game.]
The manager dropped the paper onto the desk.
“They really are taking care of him. What kind of prospect gets a strict seventy-pitch limit in the minor leagues?”
Of course, elite prospects received management.
But this was still the minor leagues.
A strict seventy-pitch limit in such a harsh ecosystem was almost unheard of.
The manager became curious about the 1.5 million dollar young master.
Pregame meeting room.
Lexington’s starting catcher, Frank Joshua, usually called Josh, sat across from Seo Ji-tae with the interpreter nearby.
Josh had been a strong college catcher and had risen to Single-A quickly.
His eyes were sharp.
From now on, he would have to form a battery with this Asian rookie.
Josh tapped the table and spoke in a strict voice.
His eyes moved between Seo Ji-tae and the interpreter.
“All right, kid. Since you’re new, I’ll take care of you like a baby. Just do what I tell you. Don’t wet yourself. This is an adult league.”
“…”
Josh treated Seo Ji-tae like a child.
“First, memorize the signs. Without runners, it’s simple. Once a runner reaches base, the whole system changes. Watch the second finger signal, or I’ll give you an indicator first…”
“I know.”
Seo Ji-tae cut him off before the interpreter could speak.
Josh stopped.
He frowned.
“You understand English?”
“I learned it. Some Spanish too.”
Josh’s mouth twisted slightly.
“Then this will be quicker. Don’t confuse the signs. Throw exactly what I call. Understand? If you just follow my signs, you’ll be fine.”
“Exchanging signs with the catcher is basic.”
“But?”
“Whether I follow them depends on your pitch calling.”
“What does that mean?”
Seo Ji-tae leaned back in his chair and smiled.
“Understand my style properly when you call pitches.”
“Ha. You’re confident, kid. This isn’t rookie ball…”
“Throwing useless pitches far outside, wasting pitches because you’re scared, calling breaking balls first because the hitter looks dangerous. That finger game isn’t my style, Josh.”
Silence.
Josh tightened his jaw and leaned forward.
His large body created pressure.
“This isn’t the little rookie league you played in. This place is full of high draft picks and college monsters. Let a hitter see your pitch twice and he’ll time it and send it over the wall. Catchers need to spread the attack if pitchers want to survive.”
“Then decide your calls after seeing my pitches.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“Pitchers aren’t dolls.”
Seo Ji-tae did not back down.
The two stared sharply at each other.
The meeting room froze.
The interpreter could only sweat between them.
Afternoon training.
Seo Ji-tae was still training in his unusual way.
Different from everyone else.
The Single-A players had already gotten over the initial surprise, but they still did not like it.
Josh was the same.
“So he’s special? Looks like the organization is really watching him.”
Few organizations carefully managed players from Single-A to Double-A.
Usually, close management began only after someone was promoted high enough.
In the lower minors, players either proved themselves or disappeared.
But Houston was already managing Seo Ji-tae closely.
That made him unusual.
Still, the strangest thing was his endless confidence.
Because Seo Ji-tae was a pitcher, he needed a catcher for most bullpen work.
Somehow, Josh ended up catching for him like a personal catcher during training.
Josh wanted to teach the arrogant rookie a lesson.
“If you’re going to throw weak garbage, quit now. Throw!”
“Fastball first.”
Josh needed to see his pitcher’s repertoire.
Seo Ji-tae put the glove on his right hand.
Fastball, splitter, curve? Three pitches. A little disappointing. One more would be nice.
The manager had said something about right-handed pitching earlier, but Seo Ji-tae was pitching left-handed now.
Josh had ignored it.
The important thing was the arrogant boy’s pitches.
The attitude was still annoying.
“Josh! If you become my personal catcher, you’ll reach the Majors faster.”
“Just throw, kid.”
Josh hated the sky-high confidence.
If Seo Ji-tae’s pitches were weak, he planned to scold him badly.
Seo Ji-tae’s left hand moved.
His right leg rose high.
More power entered the three-quarter delivery.
Then his arm whipped forward at full strength.
“!”
Josh’s eyes changed instantly.
Fastball.
Seo Ji-tae had even announced it.
Josh knew what was coming.
Yet the height of the pitch surprised him.
High fastball.
His mitt hurriedly rose toward the top of the zone.
He caught it.
But tension appeared on his face.
What is this power? The speed too. The ball itself…
It was shocking.
Josh demanded another fastball.
“Again!”
“Next one, Josh.”
Second pitch.
Another rising fastball.
The heavy ball attacked the top of the zone and entered the mitt.
This time Josh caught it properly.
He was balanced.
But the force surprised him.
It went directly onto the borderline. So casually.
His expression changed.
“Breaking ball next.”
“Splitter first.”
Seo Ji-tae threw the splitter.
Its speed was almost like a fastball.
Fast. Faster than a normal splitter.
Then it suddenly dropped in front of home plate as if someone had hit the brakes.
“!”
Josh tried to catch it.
He missed.
The splitter rolled near his feet.
“Faster than I expected.”
