CHAPTER 350: CHAPTER 3: DECLARATION_2

The originally somewhat lifeless 2012 draft meeting instantly became lively with the addition of this big fish—surely quite a few teams will change their draft strategies at the last minute because of Lin Guanglai’s decision.

After the presentation session ended, under the host’s control, the press conference entered the free question phase.

"Lin, as a child who grew up in Tokyo, do you prefer the Yomiuri Giants or the Yakult Swallows?"

This question seems unrelated to the theme, but for the reporter, through this question, he could slightly infer the player’s personal preferences, perhaps expecting to find out if Lin Guanglai had a team he especially wished to join.

Lin Guanglai, of course, understood the hidden implication of the reporter’s question—although he had dialogued with the SoftBank Team, he did not intend to lie about this matter, so he truthfully said:

"Well...although I grew up in the Tokyo Region, I’m sorry to say I am personally a fan of neither the Yomiuri Giants nor the Yakult Swallows—my father is a fan of the Saitama Seibu Lions, so since I was very young, I’ve always been watching the Seibu’s games with him."

This answer immediately perked up some reporters friendly with Seibu—Lin Guanglai’s statement could be seen as an active gesture of goodwill towards the Seibu Lions, and shouldn’t the upper echelons of the team seize this opportunity to secure him?

The mouthpiece media of other teams didn’t express much about this: to them, it seemed perfectly normal that Lin Guanglai’s father would like the Seibu Lions. After all, from the 1980s to the 1990s, Seibu dominated the Pacific League almost every year and crowned Japan’s Number One six times. At that time, unless you were a diehard fan of teams like Giants or Hanshin, it would be odd not to be a Seibu fan.

Next, another question was raised.

"Lin, as far as I know, at least 3 to 4 teams have expressed interest in you—so how will you handle the outcome if faced with multiple nominations?"

Following the previous question, this one really hit the point: indeed, if Lin Guanglai is adamant about only going to Seibu, even willing to become a wandering player like Sugano Tomoyuki last year, then other teams have to weigh the consequences of forcing a nomination. Well-off teams like Yomiuri and SoftBank might be okay, but small teams that rely on drafts to boost their strength can’t afford the cost of wasting a first draft choice.

Although he is, in a way, half a fan of the Seibu Lions, having grown up watching Matsuzaka Daisuke play, this doesn’t necessarily mean Lin Guanglai would insist on only joining Seibu. Similarly, even though he’s already received the SoftBank Team’s training scheme, he can’t just say he’s only going to SoftBank, because doing so would violate some kind of unwritten industry rule and wouldn’t be good for his reputation.

After comprehensive consideration, Lin Guanglai gave this response:

"If there are multiple nominations, I will respect the outcome of the final draw no matter what result occurs—but I hope the team that chooses me can provide a clear training plan."

Hearing this, many reporters felt at ease—given the talent Lin Guanglai displayed during his three years of high school, multiple nominations are certain to happen; apart from teams like Yomiuri that already have preferred players, those present even suspect that the remaining 11 teams might want to join in the fun, for even if they don’t draw him, there are still a bunch of excellent players to choose from, and if they do, it’s a huge win, with nothing to lose on either side.

As it stands, Lin Guanglai doesn’t have a particularly apparent preference for his future direction, which means everyone’s chances are equal; as for the requirement he mentioned later, reporters see it as entirely reasonable—if a team doesn’t have a clear future plan and training scheme for such a super talent who has set numerous astonishing records in high school, then there’s hardly any need to consider going there.

Considering the records Lin Guanglai set during high school, even these seasoned reporters, who have worked in baseball coverage for many years and seen it all, couldn’t help but exclaim, "What kind of monster is this?"

"So Lin, after entering the professional ranks, will you choose to be a pitcher or a hitter?"

Upon hearing the question, Lin Guanglai couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow—this was a question he’d been waiting for a long time and it had finally come.

The focus of the reporters on site was immediately captured by this question. They simultaneously turned their gaze to the podium, eagerly waiting to see what kind of answer Lin Guanglai would give.

On the issue of what position Lin Guanglai should choose upon entering professional baseball, related parties had been discussing it repeatedly for quite some time: after all, whether pitching or hitting, Lin Guanglai was almost perfect during high school, and his defensive skills in the team were also remarkable.

The majority leaned towards having him choose the pitcher position because, influenced by various mangas, the preference within Japanese culture, or considering the player’s career, the pitcher position is undoubtedly the easiest to become a star.

Lin Guanglai’s outstanding control, coupled with his fastball speed surpassing 160 km/h—isn’t such a player a born pitcher? With proper training, guarding Japan Team’s pitcher’s mound for 15 years is no problem at all!

A smaller group believes Lin Guanglai should give up pitching and switch to being a hitter, focusing all his attention on honing his batting and fielding skills.

These people offered their reasoning: with the modernization of baseball, pitchers are increasingly becoming consumables; going through multiple TJ surgeries may result in a significant decline in pitching ability, and he may never return to peak form, possibly even collapsing suddenly;

In contrast, the position of hitter has a longer span of career longevity. With Lin Guanglai’s capability of hitting over 100 home runs in high school, he needs only to adapt to the professional game rhythm for a year or two, along with practicing his outfielder skills, and he could become a top-tier power hitter, possibly breaking Wang Zhenzhi’s single-season home run record is no longer a dream!

Each side has its reasons, and neither can convince the other—in that case, why not directly ask the player himself? Ultimately, whether pitching or hitting is decided by the players themselves.

The reporter who asked the question felt extremely clever, waiting for Lin Guanglai’s response while signaling the photographer beside him to zoom in the lens a bit to capture every subtle action of Lin Guanglai during his response.

Looking at the serious demeanor of so many reporters in front, and considering what he was about to say, a slight smile involuntarily appeared on Lin Guanglai’s face.

Seeing his expression, the reporters felt even more puzzled: is there something on our faces? Why is Lin suddenly so happy?

So, pitcher...or...hitter?

"Ahem."

Under the focused gaze of the reporters, watched by many live broadcast cameras, and the attention of television viewers of this live event, Lin Guanglai on the podium coughed twice and then gave his answer.

"I know the following statement might sound unbelievable to everyone, and even be considered an absurd act—but I still want to say it."

"As a player who hit 101 home runs in high school, pitched perfect games, no-hit games, and ranked first in total strikeouts, I have this confidence in myself."

"After entering professional baseball, neither do I intend to be solely a pitcher, nor do I wish to become merely a hitter."

"Here and now, I announce to everyone that I aim to challenge Dual Swordsmanship in professional baseball!"