"Everyone, come with me; we're moving on to the next test."
The assistant coach led the crowd to the 100-meter sprint test.
Sawamura Eijun and Takashima Rei were at the back of the group.
Takashima glanced gratefully at Sawamura and said softly, "Thank you, you've really helped me a lot."
Previously, she had genuinely worried that Han Lee-Hyun's performance would be underwhelming.
She would go through a lot of headaches with the school management and school board.
"It's nothing!"
Sawamura smiled and said, "Actually, you don't have to worry at all. Didn't you say that the exchange program team management has confidently stated that they'll let Han Lee-Hyun qualify on his own merit, there must be qualities in him that we haven't yet discovered."
Sawamura spoke with great confidence.
Takashima thought about it and realized that this was indeed the case.
She smiled brightly.
At that moment, the freshman sprint test began.
With a bang, the starting gun went off, and the athletes shot forward like arrows.
These guys were incredibly fast, reaching the finish line in just seconds.
"12.10 seconds!"
"12.25 seconds!"
"12.34 seconds!"
"12.40 seconds!"
"12.40 seconds!!!"
The results for the first group came out quickly, with their times remarkably similar.
"Wow, that's impressive!"
This scene shocked the second and third-grade students watching nearby.
Was it just a coincidence? The five who had just run all had frightening speeds.
"These guys could all apply to be national track and field athletes, right?"
Kariba murmured.
Beside him, Watanabe nodded and added, "According to the latest data, the standard for third-level 100-meter athletes is 12.6 seconds. Every one of these guys exceeded that record."
"What you're talking about is electronically recorded data. If it were recorded manually, the times would be slightly faster."
"While there might be discrepancies between manual and electronic records, the difference is only about 0.1 to 0.2 seconds. As long as our coaches aren't suffering from Parkinson or something similar, even accounting for a 0.2-second deduction, these athletes have already reached national athlete levels!"
To think that they had such strength right after entering high school?
This put tremendous pressure on the second and third-string players from Seidou High School.
It seems that after Seidou High School won the national championship last summer and spring.
This series of dazzling achievements really attracted many talented youngsters.
"The pressure of competition will only increase from here!"
"Now's not the time to sit back and enjoy the show; we should focus on ourselves..."
Gradually, the second and third-string players fell silent, but the fire in their eyes was scarcely contained.
The remaining freshmen took their turns, and aside from a few particularly strong individuals who clearly weren't sprinters, most of the others finished in under 13 seconds!
A couple even stood out, running under 12 seconds.
In a 100-meter race, a one-second difference is substantial—nearly seven or eight meters.
The gap between those who could run under 12 seconds and those who clocked in over 12 or even 13 seconds was clear at a glance.
Sawamura looked at the names on the list and felt completely unsurprised.
Yui Kaoru: 12.1 seconds!
Despite his shorter stature, he was incredibly quick.
While others took two strides, he managed three.
Though this time didn't rank him among the top five freshmen, it surpassed the majority.
Among the other few who finished under 12 seconds were familiar faces to Sawamura.
Okumura boy ran a 12-second sprint.
While speed wasn't his forte, he had trained in both running and base stealing.
These players, who had grown up in junior clubs, exhibited outstanding abilities across the board.
'No wonder elite teams liked to recruit them.'
'Graduates from junior clubs generally had higher skill levels.'
Those who made a name for themselves in junior clubs were even more impressive.
Take Sawamura's class, for example: aside from him and Furuya, the two oddballs, the rest were all from junior clubs.
Haruichi, Toujou, Kanemaru… all the same.
Besides Okumura, another who just broke the 12-second mark was Yuuki Masashi.
He moved like a well-oiled tank, frighteningly fast.
Apart from these three, three others had also run under 12 seconds: Seto, Kagami, and Nishiyama.
Of these three, Takuma was the fastest.
He clocked in at 11.5 seconds!
While others had reached national athlete standards, they were level three athletes; Seto Takuma was different.
Takuma had achieved second-level national athlete status.
Such players are rare in the baseball club.
Reaching second-level national athlete status meant he could likely secure a ranking in school sprint competitions.
Typically, such athletes join track and field clubs directly, rarely opting for baseball.
Not to mention that Takuma was just a freshman; as he matured, his physique would likely improve further.
Next was Nishiyama.
He clocked in at 11.65 seconds.
This athlete had previously led his team high on the national stage, making him undeniably the most powerful among the freshmen.
Judging by his robust physique, it was clear that he excelled not just in pitching speed but also in hitting.
"An all-rounder!"
Sawamura frowned slightly.
Nishiyama's style reminded him of his own.
While he might not be the best in every aspect, his overall performance in every one of them was impressive.
'However!'
Strong overall abilities in baseball might not always be a good thing.
Talented in many areas, such players often refuse to let go of any one skill.
If they can't distinguish between primary and secondary skills, they may never excel in any one area.
Such players are amazing in junior and high school but may struggle once they reach professional baseball.
In the world of professional baseball, competition is never about overall strength; it's about excelling in specific skills!
Batting!
Pitching!
Stealing bases!!
True success on the baseball field comes when one of these skills reaches its peak.
While others focus on one, you strive for all three.
But human energy is limited…
With a helpless shake of his head, Sawamura realized he wasn't in a position to worry about Nishiyama.
In the Major League, hadn't he suffered due to this very issue?
Had he focused less on his hitting, he might have progressed further in pitching.
But looking back now, in the highly competitive Pro Baseball, this was a lifeline for him.
As one player after another finished their tests, everyone's results were commendable.
Several star players demonstrated impressive abilities.
Sawamura's two Kohais also performed excellently, reaching level three national athlete standards.
Yet among the newcomers, their performances were merely above average.
Hirota Hikaru: 12.36 seconds.
Matsumoto Jun: 12.60 seconds.
As for another junior in Sawamura's dormitory, his results were rather disappointing.
Asada Hirofumi: 13.3 seconds!
To be honest, this speed wasn't too bad for a first-year high school student.
However, compared to the previous runners, the difference was glaring, placing him in the lower ranks.
If it weren't for his excellent performance in throwing, he might have been eliminated outright.
There's a stark contrast between regular members and observers.
Though both belong to the baseball club, the difference is vast.
Han Lee-Hyun was the last group to be called forward.
"Ready? Let's begin."
The assistant referee raised the starter gun and fired a shot.
Whoosh!!
As soon as the gun fired, the last five boys bolted forward.
Han Lee-Hyun's reaction was clearly a beat slower than the others.
By the time the other four had sprinted two or three meters, he had just started running.
"What?"
"He doesn't even know how to pre-run!!"
Those familiar with running knew the trick.
If you start running only after hearing the gunshot, you're already at a disadvantage.
The correct starting time is when the coach says "ready," and you mentally count down.
Then, you take off before the gun fires.
Lee-Hyun obviously lacked such experience and fell behind right from the start.
Two seconds later…
Everyone had their mouth agape.
Han Lee-Hyun, who had originally been two or three meters behind, was now neck and neck with the fourth-place runner.
"Fast!"
"So fast!"
In a mere ten-meter stretch, Han Lee-Hyun had already closed the gap of two or three meters.
In this round, the difference between first and fourth place was minimal—only about two meters.
After surpassing the fourth runner, Han Lee-Hyun, in the blink of an eye, overtook the first-place runner.
At this moment, they had only covered about 20 meters of the 100-meter race.
Everyone on site widened their eyes and dropped their jaws.
'Incredible!'
Compared to Han Lee-Hyun, the other contestants seemed to be moving like turtles.
It wasn't that they weren't trying; it was just that their opponent was too fast!
…