The Genius Hitter Who Conquered America - Chapter 10

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 10
The following morning.
Soo-ho entered the Baseball Academy alongside Mark.
Mark had departed for his individual training regimen.
John Coach picked up a bat and gestured for Soo-ho to follow him to the Batter’s Box, where he took his stance.
“Let me demonstrate first.”
John Coach loosened his shoulders with casual movements and assumed his batting posture.
His body then moved with the fluidity of water in motion.
His lower body drove forcefully against the ground, his torso rotated without hesitation, and the power flowing through his arms and wrists transferred flawlessly into the bat.
The process of force condensation visible within that swing was utterly devoid of superfluity.
It possessed the flawless perfection one would expect to witness in the Major League.
The motion was as natural as water flowing unobstructed, yet simultaneously radiated tremendous power.
Whoosh!
Crack!
Even the sound of the bat cutting through the air was artistic.
Soo-ho watched John Coach’s swing in mesmerized silence.
‘Perfect.’
I could sense it instinctively.
If even someone as inexperienced as myself could recognize it as perfect.
Then it truly was a perfect swing.
Therefore, if I could only master that swing.
‘My hitting distance would increase, just as the Coach said.’
Yet a small concern also blossomed in one corner of my heart.
John Coach’s swing was unmistakably a perfect “full” swing.
And naturally, a batter must execute a full swing to produce quality contact.
However, my current physique could not sustain such a swing.
It felt like a power-hitter’s swing incompatible with my diminutive frame.
John Coach seemed to read my expression, lowering his bat as he approached.
“Do you have doubts about the swing I demonstrated? It probably felt like an ill-fitting garment for your body.”
John Coach met my eyes directly.
“But remember this. A test is a test. And in a test, results matter most. This swing may not suit your body right now. Or rather, to be honest, your current frame would struggle to execute this swing flawlessly.”
Yet conviction resonated in John Coach’s voice that followed.
“But ultimately, what you must demonstrate is unexpectedness. The Dodgers scouts have already witnessed tremendous potential in you. Furthermore, they understand that you are not a player with perfect mechanics.”
What they wish to see is whether you can execute a swing flawlessly even just once.
Whether you possess the potential to generate Major League-caliber contact.
John Coach’s eyes blazed with intensity.
“So if you can produce an overwhelming contact with a perfect swing even once, despite your diminutive stature, the Dodgers will be desperate to develop you. You’re showing them the hope that they can refine your weaknesses and cultivate you into a complete player.”
Soo-ho nodded.
‘The Coach is absolutely right.’
It was a diagnosis as precise as tweezers.
But what if, just once, I could replicate that flawless swing the coach demonstrated and produce an overwhelmingly dominant hit?
‘I could really pass the tryout.’
Determination ignited in Soo-ho’s eyes.
“Understood, Coach. I’ll make it happen.”
“Good. Now it’s time to engrave a new swing into your body.”
John began by establishing the fundamental stance with Soo-ho.
How to grip the bat, shoulder positioning, eye alignment.
And most critically, the lower body mechanics.
John refined Soo-ho’s posture with meticulous precision, molding his body like a potter shaping clay.
“Now, grip the bat a bit more firmly, and add a touch more wrist cock.”
Soo-ho tensed his wrists and raised the bat according to John’s instruction.
“Like this?”
“No, a bit more. Yes, just one more inch there. Keep the bat head from dropping too far.”
John grasped Soo-ho’s wrist directly, adjusting the angle with surgical precision.
“Now for your stance. Your feet are too close together. Spread them slightly wider than shoulder-width. And bend your knees more! You’re too rigid right now. Your lower body needs to be loaded with power.”
Soo-ho widened his stance and deepened his knee bend.
“Like this?”
“No, no. Don’t bend them as a single unit like that. Back knee slightly inward, front knee centered for balance. Yes, that’s it.”
John gripped Soo-ho’s shoulders and made minute rotational adjustments.
With each touch of his hands, Soo-ho felt his own body becoming increasingly unfamiliar.
The stances he’d grown accustomed to over decades crumbled in an instant, replaced by an entirely new framework.
“Now the hip turn and rotation. Sigh. You’re not using your lower body at all. You’re like a wooden plank. Drive off the ground! That power must transfer perfectly through your hip rotation.”
Frustrated, John demonstrated the movement himself once more, shuffling his feet and rotating his hips.
“Come on, follow along. Press the ground with your soles. Then rotate your hips. Open your pelvis.”
Soo-ho struggled to mirror John Coach’s movements.
“Like this?”
Soo-ho shuffled his feet and rotated his hips, but something felt awkward and unnatural.
“No, I’m not asking you to dance. Again. Use more ground reaction force, and rotate your hips faster. It should flow like water.”
“Like this?”
Soo-ho tried again, but still failed to satisfy John.
“No, no. Again! Your weight transfer isn’t working! More! More! More!”
John showed no signs of fatigue, relentlessly pointing out and correcting Soo-ho’s form.
Soo-ho repeated the same movements dozens, hundreds of times in response to his instructions.
* * *
John paused mid-correction and called a brief halt to the training.
Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, yet his gaze remained blazing with intensity.
Seizing the moment, Mark approached.
He tapped John’s shoulder and asked with apparent concern.
“Coach, aren’t you teaching him a bit too intensely? This is less instruction and more like punishment, honestly. I knew you were passionate, but I’ve never seen you go this far.”
At Mark’s words, John Coach caught his breath and nodded.
Mark’s observation was correct.
American baseball, particularly the prospect development academies, placed great emphasis on autonomy and cultivated a culture that eschewed coercive training methods.
Even the Major League and Minor League didn’t force players—so why would the academy?
Here, respecting individual will and providing motivation through scientific data was the norm.
Therefore, the training method John was imposing on Soo-ho was misaligned with American educational culture—almost dogmatic in nature.
“That’s right. I know my approach differs from my usual methods.”
Yet John’s gaze remained unwavering.
His eyes turned back toward Soo-ho.
Even during brief rest intervals, Soo-ho continued swinging his bat repeatedly.
“But without pushing this hard, that kid will fail.”
Mark’s eyes widened.
“No, Coach. You know Soo-ho’s talent, right? Even Frank recognized it. Isn’t he among the most promising prospects in the Major League? Honestly, I think his probability of success far outweighs his probability of failure.”
John smiled faintly.
“High probability of success? That’s not how it is. There are too many penalties. That kid needs to demonstrate a more flawless performance than any other player participating in the test.”
“Because of his age…?”
“Yes.”
“Then, is the probability of failure higher?”
John gazed into the distance, as if recalling his own past.
His voice carried profound regret.
“Let me tell you an interesting story. There was once a prospect called a genius. That kid possessed such extraordinary innate talent that he trained carelessly and didn’t concentrate much on practice. Yet whenever he stepped onto the field, everything seemed to unfold naturally. So he doubted the value of effort. He believed that natural talent was supreme.”
John Coach’s eyes darkened.
“But that kid eventually hit his limit and quit baseball altogether. The Professional Baseball World was too high, and that’s when I realized it—talent hits walls, but effort breaks through them. But I was twenty-four then. I thought it was already too late. After that, I became a wreck for three years.”
John looked at Soo-ho again.
His gaze held both the regret of the past and expectations for Soo-ho simultaneously.
“But look at that kid. Despite having talent, he’s in a situation where he should be frustrated at not being able to utilize it at all, yet he never gives up. That’s something—something that kid back then didn’t have. If he’d possessed that indomitable spirit back then… he surely would have become a Major Leaguer.”
Mark sensed something odd in the current conversation.
John kept referring to him as a friend, but it felt far too familiar.
“Um, Coach….”
“What?”
“Is that story about you?”
John slowly nodded.
“Yes. It’s my story. In the end, my life didn’t lead to becoming a Major Leaguer—I’m just coaching here at the academy. I didn’t want to quit baseball either. There were practical reasons too, of course, for making a living.”
John was sufficiently satisfied with his current life.
Teaching numerous prospects and helping them grow brought him great fulfillment.
If asked whether regret remained, he’d be lying, but he understood all too well that it was truly too late now.
Now in his mid-thirties, his body could no longer knock on the Major League’s door.
He’d abandoned his dreams as a player long ago, but now he dreamed new dreams as a coach.
And at the pinnacle of that dream stood Soo-ho, who had suddenly appeared.
John was projecting himself onto Soo-ho.
That indomitable will he lacked, that pure passion for baseball.
And if only he had possessed an unbreakable spirit that never yielded to adversity….
‘He surely could have become a Major League player.’
John winked at Mark.
“The swing I’m teaching Soo-ho is my swing. And I’m willing to stake my entire baseball career on perfecting him. In just two weeks.”
That was why John sought to wash away the regrets of his past.
Through Soo-ho.
A fierce conviction gripped him—that what he could not achieve, Soo-ho could accomplish.
John was projecting his former self onto Soo-ho.
Determined to fulfill the dream he had abandoned, even if only through this vessel.
Mark scratched the back of his head.
“So you’re saying Soo-ho can pull it off?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. It’s out of my hands now. Soo-ho needs to replicate that swing flawlessly within at least a week… only then can he truly make it his own during the remaining week.”
Despite already teaching Soo-ho for six hours today, he hadn’t executed it correctly even once.
“Still, I believe in Soo-ho. He’ll definitely give it his all.”
John’s expression hardened subtly.
Giving one’s all.
John understood how impossibly difficult this truly was.
No human could ever know where the limits of their maximum effort truly lay.
But soon, through Soo-ho, he would come to realize that human potential far exceeded all expectations.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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