Talent (3)

"Nice control. I want to see where your limit is!

Throw it right here!" With that, he positioned his glove at the spot Sendou saw as upper-right—the inner-corner high ball for a right-handed batter.

Coach Nakanishi knew very well that to build confidence in kids, praise was the way to go—especially since Sendou deserved it. At the same time, he wanted to test his limits, so he said just that.

"Whoosh!"

"Thud!"

"Alright, alright, now here!" Seeing the ball hit the inner corner again, he made another request. This time it was still the inner corner, but on the edge, right in the middle of the strike zone.

"Whoosh!"

"Thud!"

"A little too inside, but the ball trajectory isn't bad! If I didn't know, I wouldn't believe you're a beginner. In over ten years, this is the first time I've seen someone throw this accurately on their first try."

"Is that something that needs practice?" Sendou asked.

In his past life, Sendou had nothing better to do while watching baseball anime.

He'd played a game where he set two walnuts—one placed over two meters away, the other in his hand—and swung his arm full force to hit the one on the ground.

Back then, he hit it two out of three times on average, and even the misses grazed past it, so he didn't think it was that hard.

(I swear I actually did that dumb thing, and the hit rate wasn't faked. Maybe I was just in the zone that day—who knows. Facepalm!)

"Let's stop here! Anyone else who wants to..." Coach Nakanishi was exasperated by Sendou's lack of self-awareness, so he decided to ignore him and addressed the other kids who wanted to be pitchers.

"Whoosh!"

"Thud!"

Before Coach Nakanishi could finish, Sendou had already thrown another pitch—a dead-center fastball.

Coach Nakanishi could tell the ball speed had gone up again.

(Was his form not smooth enough before?

It looks like as he gets used to the stance, he's wasting less power on unnecessary movements, so the speed naturally increases.

From that last pitch, this kid's top speed is around 110 kph right now.) Thinking this, Coach Nakanishi gave a slight smile.

"Alright, Sendou, switch out!" Coach Nakanishi called out.

Sendou nodded, grabbed his glove, and returned to the group.

"Next up, Sasaki!"

The rest of the kids tested had baseball experience at school. After watching the form correction given to Sendou, they quickly learned and started their tests.

Overall, Coach Nakanishi was quite satisfied.

Nobody who came to the Wildcats was weak—unless their family was well-off.

People who didn't know might not think much of it, but anyone following little league would know that the Tokyo Wildcats Little League was called the Kanto Champions.

Founded fifteen years ago, they had won the Kanto Tournament ten times, finished runner-up twice, made the semifinals once, and reached the quarterfinals once—a super prestigious program.

As a former Major League pro player and a catcher who was the brain of his team during his career, even top high school programs rarely had a coach of this caliber.

So the Wildcats had a strong pull for young players. Kids who showed talent early on gathered here because of the coach's reputation.

Professional guidance, combined with the Wildcats' pro-level tactical ability and discipline, made them dominate the entire Kanto region, crushing other teams.

That's why Coach Nakanishi set the bar high for admissions—the Wildcats' tuition was expensive.

But for talented players, it was the opposite. If they passed the entrance test, their tuition was reduced, sometimes even lower than other teams.

If they failed and still wanted in, they had to pay the full, hefty tuition.

So, the kids who came to the Wildcats either had already shown talent, were confident in themselves, or came from wealthy families.

Similarly, many fourth graders didn't show their potential yet, but if they did before retiring in sixth grade, they'd get a partial refund.

No one ever doubted Coach Nakanishi's judgment on tuition reductions. He didn't need the money—running the little league was just a hobby.

Likewise, the team emphasized teamwork so much that no lower-grade player had ever made the starting lineup.

Sendou had enrolled paying full tuition, but after observing him for a while, Coach Nakanishi was already thinking of giving him a full scholarship and treating him as a true disciple.

There were very few pitcher candidates to test, so that part ended quickly. Next came the comprehensive tests.

But after a few days, Coach Nakanishi already had a read on Sendou's athletic ability, so he had him go last in every event to avoid affecting the others' performances.

In the end, Sendou's results were terrifying: a long toss of 87 meters, a 50-meter sprint in 6.1 seconds, and a 100-meter in 11.8 seconds.

In Coach Nakanishi's view, Sendou's 50-meter time was far from his limit.

The reason was that Sendou's explosive power let him reach full speed within 5 to 10 meters of starting. Normal 100-meter runners can't even hit full speed by the 50-meter mark.

In other words, sprinters need explosive power, but not this much. It's usually basketball players or baseball runners who need that kind of terrifying burst.

But that doesn't mean having instant explosive power makes someone a sprinter. A sprinter's later acceleration and final kick have little to do with that initial burst.

For example, a basketball player with monster explosiveness can go from the three-point line to the paint in just two steps—meaning 10 meters in a little over a second. But a 100-meter runner takes about 3 seconds for the first 30 meters.

That means their speed from a dead start hits about 1.7 to 1.8 seconds for the first 10 meters.

But in the final sprint, the fastest in the world can reach 14 meters per second. That comes down to instantaneous burst and sustained burst.

However, Sendou is clearly an outlier. Judging from his times, he can unleash his instantaneous burst around 50 meters, but he didn't go all-out in the first half of the 100 meters—otherwise, at his age, his legs would give out in the latter half.

"If his results were made public, track coaches across the country would probably go crazy!"

"Yeah, this kid's too skinny, and his leg muscles aren't developed. No wonder he's aiming for the Going-Home Club—otherwise, his 100-meter time would be even faster." Coach Nakanishi ran through several thoughts in his mind.

"That's enough for today! Sendou, stay behind for a moment. I want to talk to you about your position. Everyone else, dismissed!"

After the group dispersed, Coach Nakanishi led him inside.

"Sendou, your results are too outstanding. Aside from Second Baseman, Third Baseman, and Shortstop not being ideal for a lefty, your physical condition allows you to play any position.

But I want to know—do you have any preferences for your position?" Coach Nakanishi said earnestly.

The Japanese place great importance on children's personal opinions; even with elementary school students, they use discussion rather than force.

"I don't have any requirements for defense, but I prioritize hitting."

"If that's the case, any position is fine for now, but our team's fielders are very strong and won't be changed easily.

So that leaves two positions: the Pitching Lineup, which requires a set number of innings pitched, and Catcher, which is hard to develop at the elementary level.

Our team's catcher is weak, while the Pitching Lineup is strong—but that's relative. Your pitches are good enough to be our team's ace.

I still don't know your hitting ability.

So tomorrow, I'll have you try batting against the Pitching Machine.

For defense, I recommend you start practicing as a pitcher and catcher.

As for how it turns out, that depends on your performance after training.

The only thing I'm sure of is that your pitches should be fine for becoming our ace pitcher."

At this point, Coach Nakanishi had made up his mind.

To make Sendou the first fourth-grader regular in the history of the Wildcats—a team that relies on full-team tactics for both offense and defense.

"I understand. Then I'll take my leave now." Sendou still wore that indifferent expression.

"Alright, see you tomorrow!"

Sendou gave a slight bow and left.