Baseball: A Two-Way Player-Chapter 606 - 151: Heated Debate Ignites Public Opinion

The showdown between SoftBank and Hanshin has ended—SoftBank, playing on the road, secured a crucial victory at Koshien and only needs one more win to clinch the interleague title for the 2016 season.

However, after this match ended, few focused on the win or loss itself; many, including the media, professionals, and fans, turned their attention to the defeated Hanshin Tigers, their manager Kanamoto Tomohiko, and starting pitcher Fujinami Jintaro.

Almost simultaneously with the match's conclusion, Kanamoto Tomohiko was surrounded by a pack of reporters; facing their inquiries, he remained calm, confidently expressing his viewpoint:

"I intended for him to pitch through the game today. Whether you call it responsibility or not, the key is his very poor start—which inning was it again? Because of bad strikes, in his attempt to get a count, he was hit—this shouldn't be the performance of a pitcher who won 14 games last year."

"In this sense, I wanted him to take responsibility, no matter how many runs he conceded, no matter how many pitches he threw, he had to pitch through it. He was supposed to be a star, equal in talent to Lin Guanglai, a pitcher fully capable of securing ten wins even now—by doing this, I hoped he could feel this responsibility, he had to feel it!"

If these words had been spoken in the context of the Showa era, as the team's manager, Kanamoto Tomohiko's remarks might have become the headline in tomorrow's papers, earning praise from numerous professionals and fans; but in this new era with the ever-deepening influence of scientific baseball concepts, his words would somewhat provoke diverse opinions.

The first to criticize Kanamoto Tomohiko's "punishment pitching" approach was Lin Guanglai, who witnessed the entire process as the opponent on site.

After the game ended, Lin Guanglai, having changed into clean clothes, routinely appeared in the media interview area to accept interviews from major newspapers—in this game, he played as the cleanup designated hitter, hitting a grand slam in the bottom of the eighth inning and also received the "Slugging Award" achievement.

After the formulaic questions related to the game, the attending reporters also inquired about Lin Guanglai's views on today's "punishment pitching" incident.

Initially, the reporters did not expect to extract any valuable news from him: Despite his young age, Lin Guanglai was surprisingly adept at dealing with the media and reporters, often using empty phrases to pass over topics unrelated to him, rarely making controversial remarks.

But today, everything seemed to be a bit different.

When asked about this issue, the sunny smile that had lingered on Lin Guanglai's face vanished without a trace, replaced by a serious expression.

After contemplating for a moment, Lin Guanglai expressed his viewpoint with a firm tone and a clear attitude.

"I don't know what Manager Kimoto was thinking at the end of the seventh inning, nor do I know how Mr. Fujinami managed to hang on in this game—I only know that, as I saw with my own eyes, this behavior could be described as nothing short of career murder for a player."

When the word "murder" fell, the atmosphere in the interview area froze completely: The reporters at the scene looked at each other in disbelief; their eyes soon gleamed with excitement—years of instinct told these reporters that a sensational news story might be about to unfold.

Now, the most spotlighted young player in Japan, arguably Nippon Professional Baseball's number one, actually accused another team's manager, a veteran with a stellar career, of murdering a young pitcher's career—in Japan's baseball world, which places extreme importance on seniority and hierarchy, this was an unheard-of sensational event!

The reporters in the audience seized the opportunity to press further, and Lin Guanglai on stage revealed all the thoughts in his mind; every time he spoke, it triggered the frenzy of clicking shutters and the reporters' frantic recording.

"I know some will say Manager Kimoto cherishes talent, hoping to motivate the other side to feel shame and then courage through this method—but to love someone by possibly destroying a pitcher's confidence and career, don't you think this love is too heavy, too cruel? I can't understand it, nor do I agree at all!"

"161 pitches! This number has already far exceeded the protective scope for a starting pitcher, especially a young pitcher, in modern baseball knowledge. I believe as professional practitioners, you should all understand that shoulder and elbow wear is irreversible; the hidden dangers posed by one-time overuse will erupt in the future in the way we least wish to see—how many of our predecessors had to prematurely end their careers precisely because of such 'tempering' during their youth? Even in the 21st century, should we still let similar tragedies reenact?"

"I have no prejudice against Manager Kimoto personally; in fact, I was once his fan when I was young. I'm just expressing my view on his decision today: We are professional athletes, our bodies are the only tools we rely on to survive and realize our dreams—the team pays us salaries, the fans give us support, not to see us as gladiators draining our blood in a single game, unable to stand anymore thereafter."