Baseball: A Two-Way Player-Chapter 486 - 93: Return to Tranquility

"But Guanglai, there’s something I want to ask of you..."

Soon, the morning passed by—this morning, Lin Guanglai’s training focused mainly on indoor physical fitness exercises. After all, during this past period, he had not engaged in any scientific and systematic high-intensity training, and his body needed some time to regain its feel.

At the same time, at Waseda Jitsugyo’s baseball training field, the new generation of Waseda Jitsugyo players also completed their training. Just as they finished tidying up the field and were about to have lunch, Coach Izumi Minoru blew the whistle for assembly, gathering the entire team in the indoor practice field.

The task Coach Izumi Minoru asked of Lin Guanglai was simple: as the first in school history to bring countless honors to Waseda Jitsugyo in three years of high school, Coach Izumi hoped Lin Guanglai could offer some words of encouragement to these juniors as a representative of the OBs.

After Lin Guanglai and his peers graduated, Waseda Jitsugyo in the post-Lin Guanglai era faced inevitable historical cycles, with the team’s strength and state plummeting:

In the autumn of 2012, they still managed to ride the momentum of the Summer League championship and reached the finals of the Tokyo Autumn Tournament. Although they ultimately lost the decisive match to Yasuda Gakuen, failing to secure the Shengong participation rights, this performance was quite acceptable for a team in desperate need of rebuilding.

However, as 2013 arrived, this team suffered successive setbacks:

In the Senbatsu High School Baseball Tournament, third round, they lost to Sendai Yuuying by 1 to 4;

In the Spring Tokyo Tournament, quarterfinals, they lost 0 to 10 to Nihon University’s team, with the match ending prematurely in five innings;

In the Summer League West Tokyo Conference, again in the quarterfinals, they lost 5 to 6 to Kokushikan, failing to defend their title and missing out on Koshien, with Tanaka Justice, the captain at the time, having to go to Hyogo alone to return the championship flag.

And after Tanaka Justice and his third-year players left the team, in the following Autumn Tournament, the current Waseda Jitsugyo team was shamefully eliminated in the second round by the obscure Komaday High School.

For the current batch of third-year players who experienced the summer of 2012, this vast disparity severely affected their confidence.

As the spring season approached, if such conditions continued to spread within the team, the team would only deteriorate further.

This issue had troubled Coach Izumi Minoru for quite some time. He had previously tried various methods to boost the team’s morale, but with little success. While he was worried about this, Lin Guanglai happened to need to use the school’s facilities for self-training—this coincidence gave Coach Izumi a new idea.

Most of the current Waseda Jitsugyo players joined the baseball club because they admired Lin Guanglai. Matches featuring Lin Guanglai and the SoftBank team had even become the only designated program during the baseball club’s breaks.

Especially after Lin Guanglai became famous in professional baseball, these players’ admiration and reverence for him rose to a new level.

If anyone could restore their courage and confidence, Coach Izumi believed, it would be Lin Guanglai.

Looking at the gathered students before him, Coach Izumi coughed lightly and began, "For a long time, our team’s condition hasn’t been good..."

At this, numerous Waseda Jitsugyo players in the ranks hung their heads in shame, feeling despondent.

"But spring is coming soon. Although we won’t be playing in the Senbatsu this year, we must still prepare thoroughly for the spring season..."

"I understand that words from me might not be persuasive, as you young people don’t like hearing this old man nag." The players in the ranks shook their heads, about to explain something, but Coach Izumi continued, "So today, I’ve invited someone special to speak to you. Maybe you’ll believe him more..."

When Lin Guanglai concluded his morning practice and slowly approached the group, the young Waseda Jitsugyo players found their minds momentarily blank.

After a moment, someone shouted "Elder Lin!", and the crowd erupted.

"My goodness, it’s really Elder Lin. Am I dreaming? Could you pinch me?"

"Wow, it really is Elder Lin—he looks even more robust in person than on TV!"

"This is the superstar who faced Tanaka Masahiro three times in a row and earns 150 million a year—wow, he’s so impressive!"

Praise for Lin Guanglai echoed incessantly, with virtually every Waseda Jitsugyo player expressing their excitement.

Especially the current second-year players, who had just missed crossing paths with Lin Guanglai. They had heard countless stories from their seniors and lamented not seeing him in person—but now, that regret was filled!

Behind Lin Guanglai on the wall hung five Koshien championship flags—one belonging to Wang Zhenzhi, one to Saito Yuuki, and the remaining three all to Lin Guanglai.

Looking at the living "legend" standing before them and recalling their own unsatisfactory performance over the past months, the expressions of the Waseda Jitsugyo players darkened considerably, with tension evident on their faces.

Lin Guanglai swept his gaze across each junior’s face, familiar with some and strangers to others, but that did not stop him from speaking with a smile:

"Stepping back into this training ground, the smell of Salompas in the air is just like when I was here, as if nothing has changed."

"Coach Izumi asked me to encourage you, but I believe you don’t need my encouragement."

"I know the burden on your shoulders is heavy—not the kind weighed down by barbells, but by ’tradition’ and ’history.’"

"Many outsiders might say, ’Ah, without Lin Guanglai, this prestigious school has declined,’ and such pressures feel suffocating, don’t they?"

"Today, I’m here to do just one thing—help lift those unrelated burdens off your shoulders."

"The flags on the wall belong to us; they’re stories written with our sweat and tears. Those stories should fuel your progress, not shackle you as chains."

"You are yourselves: you are not responsible, nor obliged to recreate some so-called glory. What you need to do is write your own story."

"Forget championships, forget failures, forget me! This team is now your team. Don’t aim for me or others to feel proud of you, rather make your coach and those around you proud—you’re responsible only for one another!"

"Lift your heads, look at me!" Lin Guanglai thumped his left chest, right where his heart is, with force. "The tradition of this school, this team, isn’t in those championship flags or with those of us who’ve already left; the real tradition lies right here."

"It’s the undying fighting spirit, the unconditional trust in teammates, the ability to continue battling even when utterly exhausted—Koshien is a dream stage; it shouldn’t become your prison."

"Your goal is to be slightly stronger today than yesterday, and when the last summer ends, you can say to each other without any regrets—"

"I have no regrets about the days gone by!"