Major League System

Ken looked at the older man and had many questions. He noticed that there was no press pass lanyard around his neck, nor was he a staff member of the organization. That meant that he was a civilian.

How did he make it past security to outside the locker room?

“Thank you?” Ken replied.

He decided to treat it as a random fan encounter, though he was a little surprised to have a fan that was such an old man.

“Did you want me to sign anything for you?”

The older man grinned and adjusted his glasses, “Just my contract. Unless you want to pay cash for my services?”

“Services?”

“The name is Tom House,” Tom said, stepping forward and holding out his hand. “Barry sent me here to watch you play before I decided whether or not to help you with your pitching.”

“Ah…” Ken suddenly remembered that Barry had indeed told him that his new pitching coach would be in attendance tonight. He had completely forgotten, being caught up in the moment.

He took the outstretched hand and shook it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you Tom. Barry said you were the best in the business, I hope you can help me in the future.”

“Oh I can help you.” Tom said with a grin, “but it won’t be easy.”

“I’m not afraid of hard work. As long there are results, I’ll work as hard as you need me to.” Ken said confidently.

“Alright, that’s what I wanted to hear. Give me your contact details, we’ll start tomorrow.”

Like that, Ken met the legendary pitching coach Tom House. At the time, he had no idea that this man had trained two hall of famers, but he would soon learn just how capable he was.

Tom said his farewells and left the ballpark. No one recognized him, which suited him just fine, allowing him to return to the hotel without any issues.

Upon arriving in his room, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed a number. It rang a few times before a disinterested voice appeared on the other line.

“It’s outside of office hours, Tom.”

“Don’t act like you’re not at your computer working right now, Barry.” He said with a small chuckle.

Barry sighed, “So, what did you think? Can you help him?”

“Yes. But I need some footage. Can you send it over email?”

“I have some uploaded on the cloud, I’ll send you the link.”

“…Sure, whatever that means. Just make it quick, it’s already so late.”

“You’re the one who called me…” Barry complained.

Around 10 minutes later, Tom received the links to the footage that Barry had sent over and opened them one by one. He spent the rest of the night watching the games that Ken had pitched in the Majors.

By the end of the night, Tom had already figured out what he needed to do.

“This guy has so much potential…” Tom muttered, tapping the desk softly.

He stretched and let out a yawn before closing the laptop. There was still more than 100 games left of the season, they had plenty of time to get ready before the post season.

***

The next morning, Tom left his hotel and went back to Comerica Park to meet with Ken.

By the time he arrived, Ken was already warmed up and waiting for him in the bullpen. It seemed like he’d thrown a few pitched already.

“You sure seem eager.” Tom said with a chuckle.

“I’ve got big goals.” Ken replied, “I’m sure you’ve seen what I said in the media.”

“Who hasn’t? The story of a cocky young rookie whose head is too big for his skill level.”

Ken laughed, “I guess that’s how some people see me. But will they be able to say the same when I achieve my goals?” he stated, his eyes serious.

“Of course they will. People will always try to diminish others achievements. Some people even make a living out of it.” Tom said simply, “I’m just glad all this stuff wasn’t around when I was playing.”

“Eh? You played in the Majors?” Ken asked with surprise.

Tom’s eye twitched, “You hired me without knowing that I pitched in the Majors?”

“Barry said you were the best, that’s why I hired you.”

“Okay okay.” Tom waved his hand. “Let’s see you pitch a few.” He directed.

Ken nodded and got his body into position. He had pitched so much that every action was ingrained into his muscles, he could probably do it blindfolded.

He strode forward and whipped his arm past his face, sending a fastball towards the net where the catcher was meant to be. Ken turned to Tom who was wearing an unreadable expression.

Without being prompted, he grabbed another ball and threw the next pitch, another fastball. The numbers flashed on the small screen nearby, 102mph.

“Alright, that’s enough for now,” Tom said, “do me a favor and lift your shirt.”

“Sorry?” Ken stared at him blankly.

“You heard me.”

After contemplating it for a moment, Ken did as he was told, showing his chiseled abdominal muscles. While it wasn’t as ridiculous as Hiroki’s, it still showed that he was in great shape.

Tom came closer and made a fist, sending a short punch into Ken’s exposed stomach.

“W—What are you doing?”

“Just seeing how strong your core is.” He replied simply. “Do you do any core exercises at the moment?”

“I mostly do running and some resistance training in my gym. As for specific core workouts, outside of sit-ups, not really.” Ken admitted.

“I see. Well, your leg muscles are sufficient, but your core is lacking a bit. It’s not really noticeable, but its affecting your mechanics. After this, I’ll give you some exercises to increase your core stability.”

“Right…”

“Don’t look so frightened, this is only the first step. I spent all last night going over your pitching motion. I’ve noticed a trend through all your games that has left me questioning myself to no end.”

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