Gintama: Year 3 Class Z, Ginpachi Sensei, Lesson 3

Lesson 3: How Not to Play Baseball

Man’s grandeur is that he knows himself to be miserable.

Blaise Pascal

Isn’t there some kind of decent part time job out there?

Taizo Hasegawa

We aren’t in a job centre, and that’s not a quote.

Shinpachi Shimura

*

Seated in a private hospital bed nearby a window was Katakuriko Matsudaira—a PE teacher in Gintama High School. In spite of his bed-ridden condition, he steadfastly refused to take off his dimly yellow tinted sunglasses, making him seem like the sort of PE teacher who while spending his days off on a cruise ship would randomly fight a marlin that popped out of the sea.

But at that very moment, Matsudaira, not as a PE teacher, but as the coach of Gintama High School’s baseball team—the Gintama Silverbacks—was in talks with a man standing next to his bedside.

“…I’m counting on you,” said Matsudaira, to which the man in a white lab coat responded, “Riiiiight…” scratching his head. However, this man wasn’t a doctor. With a head of silver hair, drooped glasses, a cigarette lit up in a hospital room, and cheap sandals, was Ginpachi Sakata.

“What the hell do you mean ‘riiiiight?!’” said Matsudaira with an aggressive tone that belied his sleepy posture.

“But look, I really don’t think this is within my range, you know?”

“Out of your range, eh?” said Matsudaira with a slight grimace. Although he was still undoubtedly ill, he remained a presence in the room. “It was a student from your class that caused this whole mess, remember?” Ginpachi was effectively silenced. “Listen up,” continued Matsudaira forcibly, “the match date isn’t going to be delayed. It’s going ahead, come hell or high water. You’ll need to take into consideration that virtually all of the main team is out of action. Out of the remaining team, there’s one guy who I’d consider one of our best, but he’s in a bad run of form, so you’re going to have to rely on your own students to make up most of the team and pull their weight.”

With his usual dead fish eyes, Ginpachi listened to Matsudaira’s explanation without even the occasional acknowledging grunt. Grasping his lower abdomen as he laid on top of his pillow, Matsudaira spoke with a distorted expression of pain.

“In any event, the match is next week Saturday. I’m counting on you.”

*

“—Because of that, you guys will be helping to make up the baseball team for the practice match against Shuei High School next Saturday. The girls will also be coming along for the match. Class dismissed,” Ginpachi was about to head straight out of the classroom. It was meant to be the end of morning homeroom, but,

“Hey, hold on a minute!” calling out to his homeroom teacher was Shinpachi Shimura. “Just what the hell is ‘that’ supposed to be?!”

“That whole beginning scene.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. Give us an actual explanation, Sensei.”

“I get it, yeah!” said Kagura standing up, “It’s that Katsura’s hair is well annoying!”

“Correct,” said Ginpachi.

“No it’s not!” riposted Shinpachi, with Katsura soon joining in.

“Yeah! I will sue, you know. I’m going to add this to the existing lawsuit of defamation against my hair, you know.”

“That’s not what I mean!” said Shinpachi, raising his voice ever louder. “That whole story of why we’re now making up the baseball team, that’s what I mean. Explain yourself.”

“Fiiine,” moaned Ginpachi returning to his desk. Putting out his cigarette, he then began his story. “Well, as you all know by now, this school has a baseball team called the Silverbacks. Old man Matsudaira is the team’s coach,” however, by the time he got to that point in the story, “—Actually, if you want the rest of the story, read it after the *. It’ll just be easier that way.”

“Oh, not this again!” however, unfortunately for Shinpachi, his interjection was already too late to have any sort of effect.

*

Matsudaira Sensei’s baseball team were a pretty popular bunch. So much so that it allowed them to catch the attention of a fair number of female students, who after training had finished would always go over to players and say things like, “H-hey, here’s a towel if you need one…” or “H-hey, here’s a sport drink. Y-you must be pretty dehydrated, right…” This, incidentally, was a cause of much frustration for the plain looking girl who managed the team, not that the players ever noticed though. It was only natural for them to be more receptive to the cute girls giving them towels and drinks in embarrassment than it was for them to get towels from their housewife-like manager. However, the other day, they would receive an entirely different kind of refreshment.

“Here, I made this in today’s home economics lesson. Please, do have a bite if you feel like it,” a cute female student had brought them her bizarre cooking in Tupperware—that student was Tae Shimura. “It’s scrambled eggs. Come on now, I don’t want to see any leftovers.”

“Uh, I guess it is ‘scrambled’ in a way…”

“What are they, cremated ashes?”

The cooking presented before them had them whispering such sentiments to each other. They had never before seen scrambled eggs that were as un-scrambled eggs-ish as Tae’s scrambled eggs. Though nevertheless, the players soon tucked in, along with their coach, Matsudaira. Somehow, they felt that if they didn’t, there would be consequences. It wasn’t a noble reason, but it was a fair one. They then proceeded to eat the scrambled eggs, in their entirety, unaware that an entirely different set of consequences was about to be brought upon them.

Tae’s scrambled eggs thoroughly scrambled up the insides of all who ate it. Mere minutes after eating them, all of the baseball team, Matsudaira and the first team included, were in a state of utter disarray, leaving virtually all the team stuck in hospital beds. This presented an extremely inconvenient problem for Matsudaira. With him and his players now bed-ridden, there was no team available for the practice match with Shuei High School that was in a week’s time. Shuei was a team that had experience in the National High School Baseball Championship, or Summer Koshien, several times as champions of their region. As the team didn’t turn down requests, it was common for a team to wait many months to see if their request for a practice match had been accepted. Matsudaira sensei with his characteristically hard faced look had coercively negotiated with Shuei, somehow getting them to graciously offer a practice match for his team. With his earnestly requested offer in place, he couldn’t possibly just go up to them and say “Sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel the match, I’m afraid, ahaha…” With that in mind, Matsudaira called Ginpachi over to ask him a favour.

“You and your students are going to take responsibility for this, you hear?! I’m counting on you.”

*

“And that’s pretty much the story,” said Ginpachi as he again tried to exit the classroom.

“Hey, hold it, hold iiit!” said Shinpachi shouting and standing up, “Why do we have to be dragged into this?”

“Because we don’t have a choice, right? Besides, it was your sister’s dark matter that got us into this mess.”

“She’s right there, you know!” Shinpachi then turned to face his precious older sister who was sitting diagonally behind him. “I’m confused, Sis. You’re not the type of girl to shyly hand out towels or drinks to the baseball team. Why did you offer them your scrambled eggs?”

“Well it would have been such a bother bringing them back home,” answered Tae with a smile.

“Is that it?!” after his sharp-tongued response, Shinpachi turned to face Ginpachi once again. “Seriously, Sensei! Why did you end up taking over the team? There has to be a different way you can take responsibility, surely?”

“Well, like, you know, I made a 5000 yen bet with the coach. I couldn’t just turn him down.”

“Adult circumstances, is it?! Screw you!” paying little attention to the screaming Shinpachi, Ginpachi carried on.

“Ah, I almost forgot. Since we’re on the subject, you guys are gonna have to win that match.”

“Uuuh?” as the whole class’s eyes were wide open with surprise, Ginpachi continued.

“Because if you don’t, next week’s lesson will be reciting poems from the Shin Kokin Wakashu while working the vaulting box.”

“Excuse me?!” replied Shinpachi. “I thought lesson 1 was behind us!”

“It’ll help you build up your stamina, intelligence, and luck.”

“We aren’t in an RPG.”

“Anyways,” said Ginpachi at his own leisurely pace, “if you guys win, that old git’ll give me 5000 yen. So go out there and win.”

“That’s impossible!”

“That’s unreasonable, yeah!”

“Yeah, our opponent is Shuei High School!”

“Indeed! That ’igh School ’as the character for ‘English’ in its name! It has bet’er English speakers than even I, a speaker of the Queen’s English!”

The students raised their objections, but Ginpachi’s expression remained stern.

“Shut it. Complain all you want, but starting today, you guys are temporary members of the Silverbacks. We’ll be training at the sports ground after school finishes. And just so you know, I’ll be acting as coach up until match day,” Ginpachi then quickly exited the classroom on that abrupt note.

It was now after school hours at the sports ground. With his back to the back stop was Ginpachi in his usual white lab coat and cheap sandals. All of 3Z was gathered in a semicircle with Ginpachi facing them in the centre. Or more like whichever students Ginpachi just felt like picking out. They were certainly no carefully selected elite squad of players, that’s for sure. The said non-elite squad was as follows: Shinpachi, Kagura, Kondo, Hijikata, Okita, Katsura, Hedoro, Catherine, and finally the chaos perpetrating, yet innocently smiling Tae Shimura.

With everyone fitted out in their practice uniforms borrowed from the hospitalized first team, and their gloves snuggly fitted, they were all set. Just behind the 3Z gang were the members of the baseball team who didn’t have their insides scrambled by the infamous scrambled eggs. The large majority of them were first or second year students.

“Right, everyone’s here now.” said Ginpachi with his cigarette lit up and shouldering a metal bat.

“Um, Sensei?” said Shinpachi raising his hand up early.

“What’s up, Shinpachi? I haven’t done or said anything stupid yet.”

“I didn’t just raise my hand to make a retort. I’m not just a straight man, you know,” emphasising that point, Shinpachi then continued. “Anyway, we’re going to be up against an all-boys team, right? Wouldn’t it better for the girls to be in a cheerleading squad?”

“Not necessarily,” said Ginpachi casually. “You see, if we mixed the girls into the team, we could make the opposition underestimate us, right? I mean, they might do… I mean, it’d be nice if they did…at least…”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Shinpachi with a sigh. Internally, he wished he could fast forward a week and let nature take its course already. Regardless, it was a given that as long as Ginpachi was the acting coach, the possibility of him and the students playing a fair and honest game of baseball was rather thin.

“Right then,” said Ginpachi holding on to his bat, “to start things off, we’ll practice our chants. We’ll need something catchy and motivating to sing when we huddle together before and during the match.”

We’re doing that first? thought Shinpachi at first, …Then again, motivational chants are an important part of sports, on second thought, he declined the opportunity to retort back.

Ginpachi then spoke, and with not much enthusiasm. “Gintamaaa! Fight, ooh, fight, ooh, fight fight fight—we’ll be running with that,” upon that, Katsura quickly raised a hand and an objection.

“Sensei, ‘fight fight fight’ doesn’t have any fight to it. It’s as if the fight has gone missing.”

Ginpachi tutted his lips, but didn’t dismiss Katsura’s opinion outright.

“So, what other ideas have you lot got?” accepting Ginpachi’s challenge, Kagura spoke first and with gusto.

“Sensei, hear me out!”

“Okay then, let’s hear it.”

“I would chant ‘Gintamaaa! Fight, ooh ooh, fight fight ooh fight.’”

“Doesn’t that just sound desperate? It’s not even that easy to chant,” said Ginpachi.

“Sensei!” this time coming from Okita. “I’ve got a chant.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Shuei’s shi—”

“Anything else? Anything? If not, then we’ll go with my chant.”

“Hey Sensei, could you hear me out?” said Kondo, taking a step forward.

“If your chant ends up being as dumb as the others, I’ll homerun your arse,” Ginpachi held the tip of the bat in front of Kondo’s face, making him take a step back. It seemed as if his chant was at risk of being considered no good.

“Thought so. Then we’ll go with my first chant. ‘Gintamaaa! Yes no, yes no, yes no no.’”

“Uh, that’s not the first chant! Where did you get that from?!” Just after Shinpachi’s rebuke, an unscrambled member of the original baseball team shyly raised his voice.

“Um, Sakata Sensei…”

“What’s up?”

“Um, we already have a chant we sing in the team…”

“How does it go?” after a little hesitation, the player took a deep breath and shouted out “Gintama High Schoool! Fig—”

“Right, that’s enough chanting practice for the day.”

“Hey, listen to the guy’s chant!” fired back Shinpachi who was rightly feeling sympathy for the unscrambled baseball player.

As for what chant would end up being after their five minute meeting had passed—

Gintama! Gin, tama!

This was the chant they settled on… Yes, really. Are we going to be alright? thought Shinpachi, who still hadn’t even touched a baseball.

*

Their real practice had begun in full earnest, but with Ginpachi in charge, it was going to be far from straightforward. Take for example the infield fungo drill, where Ginpachi would hit two balls with one swing and instruct the fielders to catch both balls.

“C’mon now Hijikata, there isn’t only going to be one ball flying around in the match.”

Uh, yes there is only going to be one ball.

At another corner of the ground, a pitching machine was being used in place of a pitcher, throwing out 150 kmh balls.

“Why are you avoiding the balls, Kondo? That’s how fast they are in the pro leagues.”

Pro leagues? We’re not even Sunday league, thought Shinpachi, who soon found out that balls weren’t the only thing being knocked around.

“C’mon now, I can’t imagine you having a hard time catching dumplings, Kagura.”

Don’t waste food. Also, batting dumplings? Seriously?

“Hasegawa, catch your sunglasses with both hands.”

Sunglasses? But then the lenses would just break into tiny little pieces, wouldn’t they?

Once the time came to do outfield fungo drills, they practised catching bunts for whatever reason.

“Centre field, think fast. And while you’re at it, take off that wig.”

But centre fielders are supposed to catch fly balls, not bunts. Also leave Katsura’s hair alone.

Even when it came time to run the bases, the students were made to recite poems from the Man’yoshu.

We still haven’t moved on from lesson 1, have we?!

After having run several laps around the bases while reciting the poetry of Kakinomoto no Hitomaro and Princess Nukata, Shinpachi had finally finished the last lap. And yet Ginpachi had the cheek to say this,

“Right, let’s do some more fungo drills. That wasn’t nearly as interesting as I thought it’d be.”

“Don’t you start judging what’s interesting or not!” Shinpachi angrily retaliated, pressing back his glasses that were slipping away in sweat.

We are so going to lose… thought Shigeno, third year student and actual baseball player, as he caught infield fungoes and saw how 3Z’s teacher and students were getting on. Out of the five players who didn’t get their insides scrambled, he was the only third year student. These guys don’t stand a chance against Shuei High… He was sure that he was not the only one who felt this way.

To start off with, he couldn’t feel even an ounce of motivation coming from the man who was supposed to be their acting coach. Not when he was still decked in his white lab coat and casual, cheap sandals, putting out cigarettes on the field, and of course possessed those dead fish eyes that words such as “vigorous” or “single minded” couldn’t be applied to. It didn’t help that the numerous exercises they went through only grew exponentially more ridiculous. It seemed as if the gods of baseball were not on their side, especially for the students Ginpachi had brought along for the ride.

Several students in the class appeared to be athletically strong, so that was promising. However some students, such as the perpetually retorting four eyes, the rather freaky demon like student, and the cat-eared female student with bushy thick eyebrows, just didn’t seem suited for baseball one way or another.

But, Shigeno reconsidered, what do I care? They could be total newbies, or they could be crazy good, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m not going to be up on the mound next week, anyway…

From a glance, everything about Coach Ginpachi seemed recklessly carefree to Shigeno, carefree and reckless enough to let the team be mostly comprised of 3Z students. To add to things, Shigeno was currently in a very bad run of form. Even if on the off chance he was told to get on the pitch, he would probably refuse. Things were much more optimistic back when he was a first year student. Back then, he was still enjoying baseball. He was being touted as a potential ace, something that he had every intention of becoming. But as things stood now, baseball just felt like it had become a source for strife for him.

It all started during the second round at last year’s fall tournament. In that match, Shigeno had come on to the mound as a relief pitcher in the seventh inning. It was 3-2. Having to protect a one run lead, he cracked under the immense pressure. With the conceding of six hits including a home run, and two walks, he had gifted the opposition five runs. The match was all but lost. After the match, both the coach and his team mates told him to not beat himself up about it, but that’s just what he did. They aren’t a team that gets knocked out in the second round. They didn’t lose the match. I did.

Shigeno found it very hard to get back up from that match, with his pitching having lost its sharp edge ever since. Regardless of how much he desperately put into his throws, the ball had no power to it. He couldn’t aim it where he wanted. From that impatience came his collapse of form and his drive to play baseball.

As his slump continued, Matsudaira looked out for him, giving him plenty of chances to take the mound. But, whatever the match, Shigeno couldn’t deliver. The moment he stood on the mound, that match came back to haunt him. Will my pitches get hit no matter where or how I throw it? Am I just going to make the batter walk?

These pesky inner thoughts had him second guessing every pitch. His slump had now been continuing for more than half a year. The excessive stress and worry started to materialise in the form of a small, but noticeable bald spot on his head, leaving both his second year junior high little brother and father in stitches.

I’m so tired, Shigeno started to think. Should I…just quit baseball? What was once the only thing he could ever think about was now just a source of pain and anguish. If he lost in the regional preliminary that would get him to this summer’s National High School Baseball Championship, that would be his and the other third year students’ last chance to do so. However, he was also thinking about maybe quitting the team before then. If he did quit, he would almost certainly be happier, but he didn’t feel that he could cut baseball completely out of his life, hence the “maybe.” It was an uncertain time for him. As a hard hit came suddenly flying by, Shigeno’s face was sunken.

“Enough daydreaming, Shinoge!” flew Ginpachi’s voice just after the ball.

It’s not Shinoge, it’s Shigeno… thought Shigeno as he stared towards the sky. That “maybe” had just turned into an “almost definitely.”

*

A week had passed.

Ginpachi had continued his arrogant, player-disdaining approach to training. An approach that made you wonder whether it was all some form of stress relief for him.

It was the day before the practice match with Shuei High School. This is what the crazy coach, I mean, acting coach Sakata blurted out right in front of Shinpachi and the rest of the team who were on their knees from the intense training session.

“With that, there is no more humili—uh, there is no more wisdom that I can teach you guys!”

“Uh, you were about to say humiliation! You were clearly going to say that!”

“Forget wisdom, you haven’t taught us a bloody thing!”

“Don’t talk bollocks!”

“Are you actually just a sadist or what?!”

“I’m going to curse your family for the next seven generations, yeah!”

“Make me a free agent!”

With the sudden criticisms of the team showering down on him, Ginpachi with sleepy looking eyes broadly grinned and muttered a laugh.

“Well, tomorrow’s going to be interesting, that’s for sure…”

*

The day of the practice match.

The location was the Kabukicho Chipper Baseball Stadium, a name that you would use to describe a beloved pet more than anything else. Though, despite its name, countless official pro games have taken place there over the years, along with the high school regional preliminaries.

It was now 1pm. The two sides were gathered: Summer Koshien regulars, Shuei High School, and Gintama High School with its mish-mash of temporary players. The difference in ability between the two sides was immense. But, thought Shinpachi, after having come this far, we can’t back out now. In spite of their ridiculous practicing methods, they had worked up quite a sweat chasing baseballs all week in the lead up to the match.

Even if victory was an afterthought, they wanted to avoid getting whitewashed. With that in mind, both schools’ fielding practice and warm ups had finished (well, Gintama high school’s felt more half-hearted if anything), and it was now 2pm, with both teams’ players on the field.

The visitors that were in the stadium were few, but even so, Shuei’s stand had at least what looked like fifty of their students cheering them on. The opposing Gintama’s stand had precisely zero people cheering them on, unless you count a local old man with a 1.8 litre bottle in one hand and a Shiba Inu he had brought along with him. You could say that it was evidence of how little presence Ginpachi, or even 3Z had inside the school, but let’s leave that to one side for now.

In any case, with the handshakes mutually exchanged, the match was finally about to begin. Batting first was Shuei High School, with Gintama High school taking the field. Gintama’s starting pitcher was Hijikata, Hasegawa was the catcher. Shuei’s leadoff batter was ready in the batter’s box.

“P-play ball!” said the aging umpire with a stuffy nose.

*

Tch, they call themselves the Silverbacks, but these guys are more like silverweed, Shuei’s leadoff batter quietly thought. Why do we have to play a practice match with these amateurs? Like who’s this Hijikata guy? He looks the part, but baseball isn’t played with looks. Heh, my score’s gonna look like something out of R.B.I. Baseball!

Hijikata threw his first ball to the prepared batter, and not with bad form, though the batter simply laughed him off.

Hmph. It’s just some dull fastball. I’m gonna blow it outta the park!

The batter didn’t, however, as Hijikata’s pitch then suddenly blurred from left to right on its way to him.

What was up with that breaking ball? as the ball landed into Hasegawa’s mitts, the batter’s cocksure attitude was soon enough a distant memory.

…Something’s not right, the batter’s chest was quickly starting to tremble with unrest. That wasn’t an ordinary slider or even a slurve. I’ve never seen a ball curve like that before in my life…

Having received the ball back from the catcher, Hijikata started laughing boldly.

Dammit, what’re you laughing at, asshole… I’m gonna smash that ball outta the park. For real this time! But, the second ball was the same breaking ball. With the batter’s timing completely off, he struck thin air. As his team’s bench nervously looked on, they started chatting among themselves, wondering if the batter was going to be okay.

Tch, quit yapping. I’m gonna hit it just fine, but however much the batter tried to deny, it was a reality that the pitcher’s breaking ball was giving him trouble.

I dunno why, but I can’t make it out its trajectory… that’s when the batter noticed something. As the ball was being returned by the catcher, it glittered in the sunlight. Wondering if the pitcher had covered the ball in some kind of grease, he called out to the umpire.

“T-time out!” said the batter, leaving the batting box. “Umpire, have a look at the ball. That pitcher’s covered it in something!” he said pointing to the pitcher.

Accepting the batter’s appeal, the umpire headed towards the pitcher. “You, hand over the ball,” reluctantly coming over to the mound, Hijikata handed the ball over to the umpire.

The moment he held the ball in his hand, the umpire raised his voice. “Hey, what’s going on with this ball? It’s all slippery!” even without the ball slipping in his hand, the umpire would’ve been able to tell just by the sunlight being reflected into his eyes.

“Oh really? I’d say it’s more ‘slick.’” said Hijikata.

“No no, this ball is slippery, I tell you.”

“No no, shouldn’t it be more like, ‘smooth?’” interjected Hasegawa.

“No, however you put it, this ball is slippery.”

“That’s just how it feels to you. I’d say it’s more ‘shiny’ though,” said Hijikata.

“You’re just listing synonyms!” shouted the irritated batter, sounding more on edge by the second.

“You definitely covered it in something. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be able to make the ball curve so much.” Despite the batter’s fiery response, Hijikata responded back calmly:

“It’s not covered in anything. There’s a slight bit of mayonnaise on it from when I had breakfast, but that’s it.”

“Then it got covered, didn’t it?! You premeditated this, asshole!” the batter then found a mayonnaise bottle cap sticking out of a pocket on Hijikata’s uniform. “Like look, you got mayo in your pocket!”

“Oh, that,” said Hijikata unflustered. “My mum gave it to me for encouragement.”

“The hell kinda mom is she?! How’s letting you bring mayo before a match supposed to be encouraging?!”

“It’s her way of saying ‘beat those Shuei bastards in three minutes!’ Know what I mean?”

“How nice of her! But also infuriating!”

The two continued to argue at length about how accidental or on-purpose the mayo was, but eventually Hijikata’s magic ball—the mayoball—was forbidden from play for plainly obvious reasons.

Now without their frankly audacious strategy of using the mayoball for the entire game, Gintama High School had quickly found itself in quite the pinch.

“Guess they were going to find out eventually,” concluded Ginpachi, his face hiding the fact that he was the one who made Hijikata throw the offending ball.

It was now the bottom of the first innings for the Gintama high school bench. Whether he was aware of what Matsudaira’s role entailed, or whether he just liked pretending to own a baseball team, he sat arrogantly on the bench with tough looking sunglasses.

“We’ll just have to pitch normally from now on,” said Ginpachi.

“But we’re not going to win if we pitch normally,” said Shinpachi timidly. He had a point.

After handing over the mayoball, Hijikata conceded four runs. Being a baseball amateur, he was only going to be able to do so much against the seasoned Shuei team.

“We can make up for that easily,” boasted Ginpachi. “And it’ll all be thanks to our leadoff hitter, Kagura!”

“I’m all set!” said Kagura jubilantly with her helmet fitted.

“Now go out there and score five runs!”

“That’s impossible,” said Shinpachi.

“As long as it’s three runs, then sure,” said Kagura with a serious look on her face.

“So like I said, impossible. Like, do any of you know how to play baseball?” leaving Shinpachi behind, Kagura headed towards the batter box. After politely taking a bow and entering the batter box, she said “Let’s be having you!” staring menacingly at the pitcher. However, in her hand was not a bat, but a nunchaku.

“Use a bat. Maybe it’s okay back in your country, but not here, it isn’t,” and with the umpire’s indifferent words, Kagura would reluctantly return back to the bench.

“Booooo!”

“Terrible call, umpire!”

“He’s gone blind!”

“He’s been paid off, he has!”

“Wanker! Wanker! Wanker!”

The heckling Gintama bench seemed to hold no intention of playing actual baseball. This is not going to end well, thought Shinpachi. If only we hadn’t spent those practice sessions reciting the Shin Kokin Wakashu while running a marathon…

Staring out from a corner of the bench, Shigeno was in thought. Just as he predicted, the starting order had comprised entirely of 3Z students. To try and make Shuei under-estimate the team, Ginpachi also included the rowdy transfer student Kagura and the killer chef Tae Shimura. The cat-eared Catherine was also on the bench just in case.

Well, whatever happens, Shigeno thought with feelings of resignation, it’s pretty much a called game… But if I was pitching… for a moment, that thought raced around his head. …No, I’m just gonna make things worse. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t imagine himself up there on the mound, pitching with all he had. It’ll be just like last time. Even if I’m up there on the mound…I’ll throw away the game. Those guys probably know it too… thought Shigeno again, taking a look at the whole 3Z bench. Guess I’ve already thrown in the towel…

*

However, things didn’t quite turn out like Shigeno expected. After the second inning, the rag-tag 3Z team had surprisingly held their own against Shuei. Even without his mayoball, Hijikata continued to stand his ground with fastballs that were blazingly fast for an amateur. Naturally, Shuei’s seasoned batters would send them flying, but that didn’t stop Gintama’s fielders. Okita at shortstop would catch the screamers with deft backhands, and Kondo at left field would clamber up the fence to catch sure-fire home runs. Standing in center field with broad shoulders that you wouldn’t dare call slender, Katsura aimed at the home plate with his laser beam like return tosses. Even when it came time to bat, 3Z just wouldn’t budge. Kagura got on base with a safety bunt that took the opposition by surprise. Tae, who in complete disregard of hitting the ball or getting on base, displayed her brawling baseball skills by purposely hurling several bats at the pitcher, raising more than a few hairs on the opposition bench. Speaking of confrontation, the cat-eared Catherine’s merciless heckling of the opposition from the bench also couldn’t be missed.

“You Shuei elites fink you speak bet’er English than I, a speaker of the Queen’s English?! Well yer wrong ’bout that, ya smug pricks! Bet ya can’t recite Shakespire’s A Midwin’er Night’s Dream by memory, can ya?!”

Although not particularly relevant to the game at hand, it was her way of showing passion, however distorted it was, for her team. But the true highlight of their efforts came from Hedoro. The demon-like demon third batter had, with only the look of his face, made the pitcher lose all will, and with his superhuman strength, he piled up the home runs.

Funnily enough, Shuei High School’s seasoned players had predicted that the match would end in the eighth inning, but now having got to that point, they were 14-11. Gintama High School was only three runs behind.

*

It was the bottom of the eighth inning. Gintama’s commendable performance had largely come down to their first three batters.

“Right, listen up, china girl. Don’t think as if you’re swinging a bat, think as if you’re swinging a triple staff,” went Ginpachi’s incomprehensible advice to Kagura. However, regardless of how relevant…or more like how irrelevant his advice was, it worked for Kagura, as she successfully hit her third drag bunt of the day. She made for a reliable leadoff batter. Second in the line-up was Okita.

“Alright, listen up, Okita,” went Ginpachi’s advice in a familiar tone. “Think of the ball like it’s Hijikata’s face, and hit that sucker with all you got. Do that, and you’ll get a hit in. You can get behind that, right?”

“Sensei, that’s not advice, that’s instigating murder. And don’t you even think about it, Okita,” said the quietly seething Hijikata. Regardless, it seemed that Ginpachi’s advice had done the trick, with Okita sending a sharp hit flying to right field, and getting on base.

With no outs and runners on first and second base, there was a good opportunity awaiting the fearsome, no, utterly terrifying third batter Hedoro.

“Sensei, I was wondering if you had any advice…” Hedoro asked politely in an ominous sounding tone, to which Ginpachi responded “ah, right…” his face stiff with terror.

“If you could, I’d like to see another home run, that’d be great…”

“A home run, then. Understood,” Hedoro with almighty thuds for footsteps then headed to the batter box. He was as good as his word. With an equally almighty ching, the ball zoomed away to twinkle in the sky, and three runs were added to the scoreboard. At 14-14, the scores were level.

The Gintama bench had finally started to think that the unthinkable was perhaps thinkable.

*

Their comeback, however, didn’t materialise in the bottom of the eighth inning. After Hedoro’s heroics, the next three batters got retired in quick succession without even reaching base, but there was still a ninth inning to go. If they stopped the opposition gaining runs and gambled everything in the bottom of the last inning, the possibility of a walk off win was on the table. But there was a problem. Even while allowing Shuei to pile up the runs, Hijikata had still performed admirably throughout the match. Already in the ninth inning, he had taken two outs, but despite that, he requested a time out, complaining about a pain in his right shoulder. On the mound was in the infield defense—Catcher Hasegawa, Kagura on first base, Hedoro on second, Okita at shortstop, Shinpachi on third—along with coach Ginpachi who came from the bench.

“…I can’t continue. My right shoulder’s probably going to give out at any moment,” said Hijikata with a scowl.

“Don’t push yourself,” said Hasegawa, attempting to reassure him. “You’ve pitched 150 balls, after all.”

“It is what it is, Hijikata. You’ve done great,” said Ginpachi, appreciating his efforts with a nod. “So, do you think you could pitch with your left hand?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Like, are you a sadist?”

“Fine, fine,” said Ginpachi with cigarette in mouth.

“We need to make a substitution.”

“Who’ll be relief pitcher?” asked Hijikata.

“I guess…Hedoro,” said Ginpachi in a tiny voice, though internally he was soon in denial.

On the mound, a silence had befallen the team. Certainly, Hedoro’s stout arms would be able to throw monstrously fast balls, but for that set-up to work, there would need to be a catcher who could stop them, which there wasn’t.

“So then, who’s going to step up?” asked Hijikata once again, as Ginpachi scratched his head for ideas.

“…Well, I’d say there’s one candidate.”

*

“Shinoge, I mean, Shigeno! You’re our relief pitcher!” called Ginpachi, catching Shigeno off-guard. With both teams not giving an inch, the resignation Shigeno felt had dissipated. Watching his 3Z teammates’ hard work closely, the feeling that maybe they might just, no, had to win was clouding his thoughts. But even so, he never thought that he would get called up and at such an important stage of the match to boot.

Whoa whoa, I can’t do that… thought Shigeno sitting at the end of the bench, flustered to find Ginpachi had come back down from the mound to face him.

“Can you come on?” asked Ginpachi concisely. Shigeno looked downward, unable to answer.

I can’t… I just can’t. The scores are level. There’s still a chance we can win this. It may only be a practice match, but it’ll still be a win against a top team. Why send me out when I’m in a slump and victory is in the balance?

“Sensei, I…” spoke Shigeno looking downwards, don’t want to be up there on the mound, he thought. Just as he was about to refuse, Ginpachi spoke up.

“Oh yeah. There’s this text message from old man Matsudaira that he wanted me to show you.”

“From the coach?” Shigeno raised his head. Pulling out a flip phone from his jacket pocket, Ginpachi opened it up, and after some quick button presses, handed it over to Shigeno.

<Don’t worry about losing the game. Just enjoy being up there on the mound. Matsudaira>

A cigar emoji followed the short message.

“……” Shigeno stared at the message for a little while, and then re-read it. Over and over.

Just enjoy being up there on the mound.

Slowly but surely, the message sunk in. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at Ginpachi.

“…I’ll pitch.”

With his cigarette in mouth, Ginpachi grinned approvingly.

*

All I can do now is pitch… thought Shigeno now standing on the mound. With one out left, it’s now or never, but soon enough, he re-evaluated. …No. Driving myself into a corner like this is only going to make things worse. I need to relax more so my shoulders don’t tense up and mess up my throws, but more than that…

—Just enjoy being up there on the mound.

Imagining Matsudaira’s voice, Shigeno muttered the words to himself once more. His mood had genuinely brightened up a little, but he didn’t quite know why. His coach had repeatedly told him the same words over and over, but for one reason or another, it was in this practice match when those words truly started to resonate. He felt that he also owed some thanks to his 3Z teammates. The baseball amateurs had shown that they could put up a more than evenly matched fight with Shuei.

For so long, I thought it had faded away, but have they reignited my love of baseball? No, now’s not the time. I can think about it after I get the result. That’s the one thing I haven’t gotten yet.

Shigeno plopped down his rosin bag and took a breath. He was about to finish his warm up pitches. The trajectory still wasn’t quite how he wanted it, but the feeling of unease he felt was gone. The intense disappointment of that match hadn’t dissipated, but he had no need to be shaken by it anymore. That match was just another match. Just like the match he was in right now. Giving out a strong, short breath, Shigeno entered his pitching motion.

His first pitch drifted high. He was lucky it didn’t get hit.

His second pitch was again still a little high. Reaching for his rosin bag, he took another breath.

The catcher’s mitts set in the middle and a little to the inside, Shigeno threw his third pitch. The moment he released the ball, he knew it was a good one.

That’s going straight into the catcher’s mitts, or so he thought when the batter swung his bat. A sharp sound rang. The ball flew straight over Shigeno’s head. He looked over to centre field. It hasn’t got much flight.

Katsura with his long flowing hair entered the ball’s point of fall, and caught it. That was the third out. Shigeno took off his cap, and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

I clutched it. I clutched it when it mattered most.

The reality, the result he wanted most was now his.

*

It was the bottom of the ninth inning. All square. No extra innings.

Gintama’s batters had the outcome of the match in their hands. Would it be a draw or a walk off?

The batting order started from No.7. After Katsura got on base with a single hit, Tae Shimura unfortunately got three strikes. It was one out, with a runner on first base. The next batter in line was Shinpachi Shimura. Until he stepped into the batter’s box, Shinpachi hadn’t got a hit in.

Right…right… thought Shinpachi gritting his teeth. Time to go out there and be a man, Shinpachi Shimura! With his helmet fitted, and his bat gripped tight, Shinpachi took his first steps from the bench. Looking at his back, Ginpachi called out to him.

“Shinpachi.”

Shinpachi looked over his shoulder.

“Get a hit in,” saying just that and with a nod of approval, Ginpachi looked cool if only for a short moment. With no words needed, Shinpachi returned a nod back towards his acting coach, and entered the batter’s box.

*

It was the first ball. Shinpachi closed his eyes as he swung and hit at the ball. It had tumbled over to second base, forcing both Shinpachi and Katsura out. The match was over. Returning to the bench, no one said anything to him.

Man, this is even worse than getting battered with fire extinguishers, thought Shinpachi.

*

On the bed in his private hospital room, Matsudaira was looking much better.

“They put up quite the fight for a draw, didn’t they?” said Matsudaira.

“I did want them to win though,” said Ginpachi, scratching his head.

“Nah, you done good. Almost too good, really.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”

“Also, thanks for putting Shigeno in the match.”

Ginpachi had a small laugh. “Not like I had a choice, considering you told me to send him on.”

“Is that right?” said Matsudaira, who also let out a small laugh. As Ginpachi told him to take care and headed for the door, Matsudaira had one more thing to say. “Hey Ginpachi.”

“What is it?”

“You didn’t win that match, so give me my money. All 5000 yen of it,” startled, Ginpachi looked over his shoulder, and spoke back.

“I see. Well since the match ended up as a draw, I’ll give ya half.”

“That wasn’t the deal, you cheeky bastard.”

“Ah fine. Tch, guess I’ll have to give you 3000 instead.”

“Thought you came here for a visit, not for a stay.”

*

Two months later.

In a practice match with a certain nearby high school, Shigeno achieved victory as a starting player, pitching the whole game.

END

To read lesson four, click here

To read my translator’s notes for this lesson, click here