Under the leadership of the team captain Suzuki Kensuke, the Waseda Jitsugyo players organized themselves neatly and approached the stands on the first base side of the Alps, thanking the audience who came to support them.
"Thank you very much for your support!" The Waseda Jitsugyo players collectively bowed in front of the stands, expressing their gratitude to the fans and supporters for the last time this summer.
The resounding sound of brass instruments, cheers, and the rumbling drums that echoed in every match — the momentum created by Waseda Jitsugyo’s cheering squad always managed to overwhelm the opposition in every game, providing the players on the field immeasurable motivation.
Every time they stepped into the batter’s box and heard their personalized support songs play, the players deeply felt the support coming from their hometown and school.
The small baseball binds together one sincere and fervent heart after another, representing the most genuine bonds between people.
In the stands, seven or eight thousand supporters responded with enthusiastic applause to the players — for everyone present, including the players and cheering students, it was their first time at Koshien; having such an experience on the first try was already a great happiness for everyone.
"Don’t cry, you’ve already done great!"
"Next year, please keep striving forward!"
Returning to the player area, the Waseda Jitsugyo players began packing up to leave — one after another, they took out pre-prepared bags from their equipment bags, knelt on the ground in front of the player area, and scooped soil into the bags.
For the third-year players, this was their last Koshien in their lives, and this bag of soil would be a cherished lifelong keepsake, a tangible representation of their burning passion and youth;
For the first and second-year players, their hearts were filled with uncertainty: the competition in the West Tokyo region was intense, even though they reached the semi-finals this year, who knows what might happen when the immediate power of the graduating third-years is gone — it wasn’t unusual in the over ninety-year history of Koshien for last year’s champions to not make it to the Summer甲 in the following year.
Yet Lin Guanglai stood there still — he didn’t intend to dig the soil as a defeated player, he wanted to show his determination to the seniors.
This too is one of Koshien’s traditions: after a team is eliminated, lower-grade players with high spirits often choose not to dig the soil, expressing their determination to return to Koshien next year in this way.
Filling the bag with soil and tying it closed with a string, Suzuki Kensuke stood up from the soft ground, turned around only to meet the eyes of a first-year junior — in Lin Guanglai’s eyes were mixed feelings of self-blame and regret along with apology.
"Senior... I’m sorry."
Suzuki Kensuke didn’t say a word, just went over and put an arm around his shoulder:
"Alright, Guanglai, don’t cry — the game is over, you’ve already done well enough."
"Our opponents won the game fairly, as losers, we should be gracious and congratulate them properly."
"Do you remember what Mr. Izumi said? What matters in a game is the process; the result is just a byproduct — we did our best, and because of that, there’s nothing to regret."
It seemed like Lin Guanglai wanted to say more: "But—"
Suzuki Kensuke interrupted him, patting his shoulder, and said: "No buts — the Lin Guanglai I know is not a player who can’t face defeat."
"Let’s summarize the issues once we get back, you’re only in your first year, you’ve got plenty of time to improve."
With that, Suzuki Kensuke paused for a moment, then met Lin Guanglai’s eyes, speaking in a serious and formal tone:
"My high school baseball career ends here — from now on, the team is entirely in your hands, Guanglai!"
"Next year’s Summer甲, all of us seniors will be there to watch — I hope by this time next year, I can see you pitching on the mound."
Picking up his heavy gear bag, Suzuki Kensuke beckoned to the surrounding teammates:
"Everyone, let’s go!"
Lin Guanglai walked at the end of the team, Tsuchiya Ryota walking alongside him, also comforting his junior: Content originally comes from novel(ꜰ)ire.net
"Hey, Guanglai, don’t be upset anymore — reaching the semi-finals is already amazing! Out of thousands of teams nationwide, we’re one of the top four, isn’t that good?"
"Besides, you’ve already done your best, stop blaming yourself — it’s us seniors who couldn’t provide you with enough support, otherwise we wouldn’t have fallen behind that much."
The camera tightly followed their backs, until their figures completely disappeared at the end of the player tunnel, the commentator at the booth slowly opened his mouth to exclaim:
"This summer, we witnessed the birth of a new Heisei monster generation."
"And now, the challenge for the monster first-year... ends."
After leaving the field, the Waseda Jitsugyo players took a bus back to their hotel.
They washed away the fatigue with hot water, and all the baseball club players gathered in the lobby — the hotel owner had prepared a plentiful feast for the team, but before dining, Mr. Izumi still needed to conduct a post-game meeting.
A dozen or so cameras had already been set up around the lobby, the media following Waseda Jitsugyo all the way were certainly not going to miss such a gathering opportunity.
On the way back from the stadium, everyone’s emotions had pretty much adjusted, so the atmosphere didn’t seem particularly serious or silent.
Looking at the young faces in front of him, even for Izumi Minoru, who had been coaching the team for nearly twenty years and had seen off batch after batch of students, it was hard to suppress the emotions in his heart:
"Everyone has worked hard during this period; you’ve all done amazing!"
"I’m very happy to see your performance, not just because we reached the semi-finals, but I’ve seen all your sweat both on and off the field!"
"I feel proud and honored to be your coach."
After saying this, Izumi Minoru looked at Suzuki Kensuke, who understood immediately and took out two bags filled with Koshien soil from his equipment bag.
Mr. Izumi had the two female managers of the team stand at the center of the crowd, took the bags from Suzuki Kensuke in a solemn manner, and handed them over to the two — the surrounding teammates simultaneously applauded.
"Mayu, Yuuki, during these years in the baseball club, you’ve also worked hard!"
"As the 19th and 20th members of the team, thank you for your long-standing dedication to the team!"
"The bags filled with Koshien soil are for you!"
Due to the profound influence of the Showa tradition in Japan’s baseball realm, many girls who love baseball as much as boys often lose the chance to play once they enter high school, either giving up baseball or choosing to become baseball club managers — female managers and players are not allowed inside Koshien Stadium.
Therefore, after discussion among the baseball club members, they specially dug two extra bags of soil to present to the dedicated managers as mementos.
Looking around at the team members, Mr. Izumi showed a smile and invited everyone:
"After working hard for so long, everyone, let’s start digging in!"