Back to Baseball

After high school, I never thought I’d play baseball again. In college, I played softball with my friends, but that was 6 years ago.  Since then, baseball has barely been a part of my life, only the occasional standings check to see how the Yankees are doing.  Now, I play it almost every Sunday from April to September on a team full of older Korean guys in a league of seven teams consisting of only Korean guys.  As the only foreigner, I stick out like a tourist on the sidewalk of midtown during rush hour in NYC. Last year, each game I played I’d be met with a series of surprise-like sounds and the word “waygook,” which means foreigner, never talking to me, but to each other, then they’d usually say something to my teammates.  When I would go up to bat, I’d hear the same noises of surprise while the fielders went into a frenzy.

My first game with the team we’d only just finished warming up and the other team was in the field ready to start. We were the away team so we batted first, I didn’t know if I was playing, but they said,” Joe, first” or something like that, enough for me to know they wanted me to go and bat now.  “Me, now, first?” was my response, I wasn’t prepared for that, I was nervous. It had been years since I’ve hit a baseball, let alone one thrown.  The first pith I didn’t swing, it was a strike. The next pitch, I swung and somehow everything I once knew came alive and acted, I made contact and hit a line drive over the right fielders head. I ran and kept running until I touched home plate, an inside the park home rune. It felt amazing! I was elated, my teammates were going crazy and were as happy as I was.  My next at-bat I was feeling good, my confidence was up and I stuck out.  I plummeted back down to earth feeling like I had let my teammates down.  That first at-bat was a blessing and a curse, it showed them that I’m capable of hitting and it made me feel like they didn’t make a mistake bringing me on the team, but each time after I went to bat they expected a home run. If we were losing and we needed runs, they’d say get on base so Joe could get up.  To the other teams, I was the foreigner they brought on the team win.  It’s like how in the Korean baseball league there are foreigners playing (not good enough to be in the MLB) but are meant to be better than the Korean players.  In reality, anyone who like me, played baseball they’re life growing up and 10-15 years younger than most of the players would have looked how I did.  I’m amazed that most of the guys could play and continue playing.  Mr. Ann, the guy who got me on the team is 47.

Getting on the team was a nice coincidence of events.  It all started in the first week when I cam to Boseong.  Within the first week at school we had a teacher’s dinner to celebrate a teacher leaving and my coming, after the dinner I was driven back by one of the teachers who live in my town, he wanted to get chicken and beer so I agreed.  In the chicken place, baseball was on and a guy who I would come to know as Mr. Ann was in there.  Since he speaks a bit of English he was asking me questions like, “Where are you from,” and I don’t remember what else.  He told me how he owned the sports store in town.  The sports store was on the way to and from the bus stop, so over the course of the next several months I stop by and say I and we’d talk a bit if he was in there.  At one point he mentioned how he played on a baseball team, so later the spring I stopped by and I asked him about it.  He invited me to come watch a game the following Sunday and invited me to practice with them before the game.  That was the game I didn’t know I was going to be playing, let alone batting first.  The rest is history, as they say.

It feels great to be playing baseball again.  It was a part of my life from when I was 5 years old up until the end of high school.  Even though it’s been 8 years since I last played, it feels as if I’ve never stopped.  Granted, I can hardly throw the ball with the problems in my left shoulder and because of these problems I have to try and be careful, but the movement and awareness of the game is there as it’s always been  Most of it I don’t actually need because of the relaxed and error-prone way the rest of the teams play, mine included.  At that age, I can’t really blame them, but it can make playing extremely frustrating; they’ll drop easy fly balls or throw the ball around like they’re playing keep away.  Usually, these errors continue to come continuously, so we end up standing in the field longer than necessary, baking underneath the July and August sun.  This summer we don’t have any games in July or August because they’ve realized it’s too hot to play.  This season will end at the beginning of November.

The guys on the team are amazing. They’ve been so welcoming and friendly.  Being around them and going out with them has let me experience Korea differently, rather than just the rigid hierarchical structure of school. Last year on Fridays during the season Mr. Ann would always invite me out to dinner and drinks with them.  No matter how many times I offered, they never let me pay.  I’d have to settle with some ice creams at the end of the night.  This year I don’t go out with them as much, actually not at all because Mr.Ann had some liver problems before the season started, so he’s stopped drinking and with it, my invites have stopped.  Maybe he’s spending more time with the family now.  It doesn’t bother me because I’ve been drinking a lot less and when he called, he never took no for an answer, even if I said I couldn’t 10 times.

Being the only foreigner in the league and living in a small town I get recognized easily.  In the gym, guys will say, “Hi, Joseph” and I can only assume they’re from baseball.  Most of the time they say remember me, and in my head, I’m thinking “uhhh, no,” but then they say something about baseball.  It’s really awkward in the locker room when I’m trying to avoid looking at anyone as to not catch glimpses of naked Korean men, when someone says “Hi, Joseph” and we’re both naked in the showers.  The other day, I was walking up the stairs of the movie theater and I could feel the eyes of the two guys in front of me as they walk up. I say hello and with surprised looks on their faces they say, “yagook” meaning baseball and say some other things in Korean and I just smile at them.  When you’re the famous foreigner baseball player in the small town of Boseong, this is life.