Pitching Test

Pitching Test

Early the next morning, as everyone dispersed for the day's practice, pitching coach Fujii brought Kōshū back to the Bullpen.

The Bullpen was buzzing with activity. Four pitcher-catcher pairs were practicing, and Hayakawa was catching for a pitcher Kōshū had never seen before. Is that Shibasaki the coach mentioned yesterday?

"Kōshū, don't get distracted watching other people practice. We have a heavy schedule this morning." Coach Fujii tapped the materials in his hand. Coach Yoshioka circled behind him to the distant Home Plate, donned his gear, and crouched down to catch for Kōshū.

"First task: I need to record your pitching motion again. Throw one pitch seriously." Fujii adjusted the equipment, and after taking a deep breath, Kōshū threw a pitch.

"Good. Throw another one." Coach Fujii held an iPad and replayed the footage with his head lowered.

They kept at it, throwing more than thirty pitches.

Fujii called a halt. "Stop! That's enough sampling of your pitching motion for now. We need to study the details of your movements in slow motion. Take a break first. Next comes the accuracy limit test."

"Okay." Kōshū relaxed his shoulders, then suddenly noticed several curious gazes around him.

Several pitchers crowded over, though their focus seemed to be less on Kōshū and more on Shibasaki, who had returned to the team.

"Shibasaki-kun, this is Kōshū-kun, our newly joined pitcher." The speaker was Heishi, a left-handed pitcher from the First String. He was in his third year of middle school and stood 1.85 meters tall. Rumor had it that when he joined in sixth grade, he had only been 1.55 meters tall. His Decisive Ball was a big-breaking Curveball.

"Senior Shibasaki, is your leg completely healed?" That was Sato, who was in the Second String with Shibasaki. A right-handed first-year middle schooler, his velocity had already reached the high 130s. But once his pitch count exceeded sixty, he lost his accuracy. That was why Sato had specifically asked Shibasaki for pitching advice yesterday.

Thinking of Sato's disappointed expression, I hope the coaches can figure out a way to improve accuracy.

"Kōshū-kun is the second precious experimental sample after you." The casually dressed guy was Nozawa Kai, the intelligent-looking pitcher from the first group. A third-year First String player, he threw in the low 130s, and so far, Kōshū knew he had a fastball and a Slider.

"Hahahaha!" Everyone burst out laughing. Coach Fujii said helplessly from the side, "You idiots, what are you even talking about?"

"Eh, Kōshū-kun?" Shibasaki looked curiously at Kōshū.

Kōshū was speechless too. He raised his hand and said, "I'm very accurate, apparently because my spin axis is naturally more aligned?"

"That really is an incredible talent. You don't need to be nervous. I gained a lot from the experiment, and my injury happened for other reasons." Shibasaki was a very gentle person, and he could tell Kōshū was a little tense.

"Huh? Other reasons?" Nozawa exposed him immediately. "Kōshū, let me tell you. He was riding his bike and got so absorbed in looking at a girl that he slammed right into a road sign."

"Senior Nozawa! Don't say something so misleading! It was my cousin! Seriously, how am I supposed to explain this now?"

"Ah, Shibasaki-kun, if it's inconvenient to talk about, you don't have to." Kōshū waved a hand with a smile.

"It's just some messy family business. But so you don't misunderstand, I should explain it clearly. My cousin had run away from home. Everyone searched for two weeks and couldn't find her. I happened to see her rummaging through a dumpster while passing an alley, so I hurried after her. But I braked too hard and strained myself." Shibasaki looked at Nozawa with some annoyance, while Nozawa stuck out his tongue.

"Well, it's good that you found her." Kōshū nodded. Nozawa was about to reveal more when Shibasaki swiftly covered his mouth.

"Let's not interrupt Kōshū's test. I'm also very curious about Kōshū's limits."

Coach Fujii and Coach Yoshioka had just finished setting things up. A group of catchers quietly helped nearby. Looking at those catchers, then at the pitchers around him, Kōshū thought, Why does it feel like guests have arrived, the wives are busy preparing things in the kitchen, and the men are out front chatting and drinking? He shuddered and shook off the strange illusion.

The first stage was to test whether he could accurately throw to the four corners. Ido Shuichi, the captain and starting catcher for the First String, crouched in front of him. He was enormous.

"Inside high." He caught it cleanly, the ball roaring as it slammed into the mitt.

Kōshū's eyes lit up. That catching sound really fired up a pitcher's heart.

"Inside low." "Outside high." "Outside low." There were no words other than the commands, but the unmoving glove was enough to get Kōshū excited.

They shuffled the order and tested again. "Mr. Fujii, I think the Four-Quadrant Grid is completely fine. Now we should see whether having a batter affects him," Ido suggested.

"Sure, let me be the batter." Nozawa loved this sort of excitement. After putting on his gear, he took a stance right up against Home Plate.

"Inside low." Ido had something in mind, making Kōshū's first pitch against Nozawa an Inside Low Corner.

The reason was simple. The instant Kōshū released the ball, he understood. Nozawa practically hit off one leg, and his raised left leg was very close to the Inside Low Corner. Kōshū suddenly tensed up, but his throwing motion was not disrupted, and the ball went precisely to the inside low corner.

Instead, Nozawa took a sharp step back. "You brat, you've got guts."

Coach Fujii smiled. Everyone understood that the boldest person here was catcher Ido. After the first few pitches had built some initial trust, Kōshū, unaware of the situation, had placed complete faith in the catcher's glove. The ignorant feared nothing. Since this pitch had come in successfully, Kōshū had surely gained confidence in pitching inside low against batters like this.

After throwing it, Kōshū's heartbeat sped up considerably. But the ball returning to his glove and the catcher across from him saying, "Nice ball," reassured him greatly.

So this is what a First String catcher is like. This is bad—I'm way too excited.

"Next, Kōshū, just watch my glove."

Ido placed his glove in each of the nine regions of the Strike Zone in turn. Without moving it at all, he caught every pitch. Watching from close range, Nozawa broke out in goosebumps across his back and arms, and his mouth never stopped moving.

"Kōshū, you've thrown three Inside Low Corners in a row. Aren't you afraid of hitting me?"

"Shibasaki-kun, look, I've got goosebumps all over my arm. Hurry, look."

Shibasaki indicated that Nozawa was far too noisy.

"Kōshū..."

"Coach Fujii, if Nozawa Kai keeps making noise, can we bring Coach Ninomiya over?" Having grown up with Nozawa, Ido knew exactly where his weakness lay.

Sure enough, Nozawa shut his mouth after that. After another twenty-odd pitches, Ido threw the ball back and clenched his right hand into a fist, pounding his left glove several times. Apparently, he was not calm either. "Coach Fujii, every one of them came in perfectly."

Coach Fujii was still staring at his tablet. "Then let's test pitches half a ball outside the Strike Zone."

Ido nodded. If even pitches grazing the Strike Zone could come in accurately, their effective Strike Zone would undoubtedly expand considerably.

The first pitch was still inside low, half a ball outside the Strike Zone. Ido set his glove with extreme precision, right beside the batter's knee. Nozawa did not lower his head to look at the catcher's glove, but he could guess that this seemingly honest guy was definitely trying to mess with him.

Inside low. You think I'm scared? If a batter fears the ball, what kind of batter is he? Coach Fujii secretly shook his head. This kind of approach would affect the pitcher's performance. But against someone bold without reliable command, getting hit by a pitch was unavoidable. He had no idea how Coach Ninomiya had talked to him, but Coach Ninomiya had actually agreed to let him fool around like this.

Nozawa already stood close to the plate, and when he raised his left leg to swing, he leaned a little farther toward Home Plate. The Inside Low Corner skimmed past Nozawa's leg and into the mitt. Even through the protective gear, he could feel the sharp gust of wind. "That was dangerous!" the pitchers behind him shouted in unison.

Kōshū slowly realized that something was wrong, but Nozawa burst out laughing. "Are you really a rookie? You don't have any rookie timidity at all. Come again!"

"Then I'll throw another Inside Low Corner, Senior Nozawa. Watch your leg!" Kōshū bluffed.

"Quit talking. The catcher decides the Pitching Strategy, right? I'm not falling for that." Then an edge-of-the-zone inside high pitch scared him into stepping back.

"That counts as a strike too?" Nozawa suddenly felt embarrassed.

Ido adjusted his mask. "The umpire has watched dozens of pitches. He already trusts Kōshū's accuracy. My glove still didn't move, so he'll call it a strike."

"Terrifying. He can influence the umpire's judgment." Sato from the Second String, who had struggled with control for a long time, could not help muttering.

"Tch, not terrifying at all. His velocity is only 120. If I were allowed to swing, I would've hit it already." Nozawa's eyes were extremely calm, but his mouth kept provoking Kōshū. "I'm very good at hitting fastballs. I'd turn every one into a double. There's a runner on second now. One double from me and you'll give up a run, Kōshū."

Hey, hey, don't make up a whole scenario for yourself. Kōshū had already thrown nearly eighty pitches and was close to his limit. With all that chattering in his ears, he seemed to genuinely feel a trace of panic when his attention lapsed.

Ido, however, made no move to comfort the pitcher. Looking at the pitcher who had begun to breathe normally only with his mouth open, he understood that the batter in front of him had been applying constant pressure. Kōshū had reached his limit. Yet Ido's open glove did not move. You're tired, aren't you? If this were a game, it would already be the late innings. The opposing offense is still relentless, and your focus has begun to scatter. In this state, can you still throw an inside pitch well?

Kōshū released the ball.

The final inside high pitch flew beautifully into the catcher's glove.

Nozawa studied the glove's position seriously, then grinned lazily again. "Not bad, rookie. With that, my job is done too."

Coach Fujii spoke at just the right moment. "Yes, that's already eighty pitches, the daily limit. Today's test ends here. Hayakawa-kun, please ice him."

Finally... it's over. He had been holding his breath in front of everyone, and now he slowly let it out. His entire body ached.

"I'll help too." Shibasaki let the somewhat unsteady Kōshū lean against him and took him to get iced.

Nozawa-kun pounced on him from behind, landing right atop the utterly exhausted Kōshū and making his vision go black. Kōshū weakly protested, "You're so heavy, Senior Nozawa."

"Don't get so cocky, Missile-kun."

"Pfft—" For some reason, Sato had followed them too. "What does Missile-kun mean?"

"It means a precision-guided missile. Doesn't it suit him?" Nozawa draped himself over Sato too, pressing the first-year junior down a little. "Senior Nozawa... haven't you gotten heavier recently?"

"It's increased muscle mass, muscle. Muscle is a pitcher's shield."

I heard you can't stop updating between signing a contract and getting listed?

It's perfect timing with the National Day holiday. I have time to stockpile chapters, so I'll build up a few more over the next few days.

As soon as the holiday ends, I have my quarterly work review. I haven't even made the PowerPoint yet. I'm doomed.