Anyway, baseball
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Description
Book Introduction
“If you’re angry, it means you’re in love.”
Anyway, series number 79 is 『Anyway, Baseball』 by artist and independent publisher Kim Young-geul.
Author Kim Young-geul grew up as a child who was afraid of dodgeball, as a teenager who did not like ball games, and as an adult who only hit a few billiard balls.
One day, a baseball appeared to him, who had lived a life far from ball.
One winter night, after undergoing cancer surgery and traveling along the Namhan River, I was captivated by the 'universe of a ball' in a scene from a baseball show on TV.
"Anyway, Baseball" is the story of a woman who lived in writing and art, who encounters baseball and begins to see and understand life through a completely different lens than before.
Anyway, series number 79 is 『Anyway, Baseball』 by artist and independent publisher Kim Young-geul.
Author Kim Young-geul grew up as a child who was afraid of dodgeball, as a teenager who did not like ball games, and as an adult who only hit a few billiard balls.
One day, a baseball appeared to him, who had lived a life far from ball.
One winter night, after undergoing cancer surgery and traveling along the Namhan River, I was captivated by the 'universe of a ball' in a scene from a baseball show on TV.
"Anyway, Baseball" is the story of a woman who lived in writing and art, who encounters baseball and begins to see and understand life through a completely different lens than before.
index
There was a ball
stupid sport
How can you love the owner of a club?
Even introverts go to the baseball stadium.
What do soccer fans know?
Rebellious baseball fans
A Korean Dictionary for Baseball Beginners
About romance
No, weren't we one team?
Time to play baseball
Hideo meets again
Where is the woman
Life with a baseball field
There is no victory fairy
From house to house
stupid sport
How can you love the owner of a club?
Even introverts go to the baseball stadium.
What do soccer fans know?
Rebellious baseball fans
A Korean Dictionary for Baseball Beginners
About romance
No, weren't we one team?
Time to play baseball
Hideo meets again
Where is the woman
Life with a baseball field
There is no victory fairy
From house to house
Detailed image
.jpg)
Into the book
The ball was scary.
Any ball coming at me, big or small, was an object of fear.
There was also an incident that could be called a turning point.
On the way home from school on a spring day not long after I started school.
A soccer ball flew across the field in a long arc and hit my forehead.
The ball disappeared with a dull thud, and I fell backwards.
The sky, dazzlingly bright with sunlight, the children's chatter, and Gong's face, a large afterimage like the sun before my eyes, are still vivid in my mind.
--- p.7
Readers will begin to have questions.
Isn't this book "Anyway, Baseball"? That's right.
The real baseball story hasn't even begun yet.
Some people are born throwing a ball and playing, while others waste a long time before encountering baseball.
After countless dodgeball matches, shabby billiard halls, and even a cancer surgery, I finally arrived at the Namhan River in early winter.
--- p.12
Now I know the rules to some extent, and the names of the players are starting to become familiar.
Every day felt like a romantic relationship.
I want to know a little more, and I feel empty even if I am away from you for just one day.
Of course, it's not easy to watch baseball every day.
It takes quite a bit of time and energy.
But what can we do?
Something has already started.
How could I not love a sport so silly, mythical, suspenseful, and full of reading material?
I have no choice but to sacrifice almost all of my evenings.
--- p.23
I went around asking people.
“I’m trying to decide which team to root for. Which one would be good?”
The answers were fairly consistent.
“Come to Doosan.”
“Kia is the best.”
“My hometown is Gyeongnam.
Gramo Lotte Ai, Lotte!”
“LG won last year.
“How about LG fans?”
Everyone recommended their favorite team, saying it was the best.
Both diehard fans and old fans live in such cheerful confidence.
--- pp.25-26
A baseball field is a space where a lot is allowed.
A spy secretly watches the person in front of him, and a lover silently stays by the side of his lover.
You can sing along to the cheering song, dance if you want, or just pull out your hair by yourself.
No one says anything, even if you eat or drink.
People do what they want to do, but they all work together in unison toward the victory they desire.
In front of that heart, the distinction between ‘popular’ and ‘outsider’ is meaningless.
I think I understand a little bit why baseball has reached the era of 10 million spectators.
--- pp.41-42
I was becoming more and more of an angry person.
Swear words and vulgar language would spill out of my mouth at every opportunity.
My boyfriend said that whenever I turn on a baseball game, I turn into an old man.
Of course, not all old men are swearers.
But I couldn't deny that I was starting to resemble the men hanging from the net at Sajik Stadium and screaming loudly.
--- pp.54-55
I won't deny it.
I valued his assists as much as his abilities as a center fielder.
But the reason I was heartbroken wasn't just because I lost a handsome player.
To begin with, I was a sports outsider, so I didn't even know the concept of athletes being bought and sold.
It wasn't until I started watching baseball that I began to understand that world a little bit.
In the past, it was news that I would have just heard in passing.
There are stories about Ronaldo receiving tens of millions of euros and going somewhere, or that Son Heung-min might transfer.
--- pp.79-80
It was his turn.
But before he stepped up to the plate, he took a few careful steps forward, holding his bat.
He took off his hat, held it in one hand, and bowed deeply, looking at the three sides of the stadium in turn.
First game after transfer, first at-bat.
It was a greeting to the fans of the home stadium where he played.
KT fans responded with applause.
A smile spread across his face.
I could read his heart even without him saying that he was grateful and that he would do his best wherever he was.
--- p.83
Tim Ingold, an anthropologist who viewed the world not as something that simply "is" but as something that "is becoming," called thread "a bundle in the process of becoming fabric."
To paraphrase his words, a baseball might be a "thread that is becoming parabolic."
Neither the one who sewed it nor the one who threw it can know what kind of wondrous trajectory the ball will draw.
And I move my hands in my own way and accompany the process.
A hand that wraps around.
Floating hand.
Stopping hand.
Loosening hand.
A hand drawing a parabola along the path of a thread.
--- pp.92-93
In the bustling crowd, a woman recognized a woman walking across from her and beamed with delight.
It seemed like it had been a long time since we last met.
The woman asked, brushing the raindrops off her shoulder.
“Do you still play baseball?”
It was a plain sentence with no emphasis on either word.
The woman across from me answered with the same words, just without the question mark.
“I still play baseball.”
Any ball coming at me, big or small, was an object of fear.
There was also an incident that could be called a turning point.
On the way home from school on a spring day not long after I started school.
A soccer ball flew across the field in a long arc and hit my forehead.
The ball disappeared with a dull thud, and I fell backwards.
The sky, dazzlingly bright with sunlight, the children's chatter, and Gong's face, a large afterimage like the sun before my eyes, are still vivid in my mind.
--- p.7
Readers will begin to have questions.
Isn't this book "Anyway, Baseball"? That's right.
The real baseball story hasn't even begun yet.
Some people are born throwing a ball and playing, while others waste a long time before encountering baseball.
After countless dodgeball matches, shabby billiard halls, and even a cancer surgery, I finally arrived at the Namhan River in early winter.
--- p.12
Now I know the rules to some extent, and the names of the players are starting to become familiar.
Every day felt like a romantic relationship.
I want to know a little more, and I feel empty even if I am away from you for just one day.
Of course, it's not easy to watch baseball every day.
It takes quite a bit of time and energy.
But what can we do?
Something has already started.
How could I not love a sport so silly, mythical, suspenseful, and full of reading material?
I have no choice but to sacrifice almost all of my evenings.
--- p.23
I went around asking people.
“I’m trying to decide which team to root for. Which one would be good?”
The answers were fairly consistent.
“Come to Doosan.”
“Kia is the best.”
“My hometown is Gyeongnam.
Gramo Lotte Ai, Lotte!”
“LG won last year.
“How about LG fans?”
Everyone recommended their favorite team, saying it was the best.
Both diehard fans and old fans live in such cheerful confidence.
--- pp.25-26
A baseball field is a space where a lot is allowed.
A spy secretly watches the person in front of him, and a lover silently stays by the side of his lover.
You can sing along to the cheering song, dance if you want, or just pull out your hair by yourself.
No one says anything, even if you eat or drink.
People do what they want to do, but they all work together in unison toward the victory they desire.
In front of that heart, the distinction between ‘popular’ and ‘outsider’ is meaningless.
I think I understand a little bit why baseball has reached the era of 10 million spectators.
--- pp.41-42
I was becoming more and more of an angry person.
Swear words and vulgar language would spill out of my mouth at every opportunity.
My boyfriend said that whenever I turn on a baseball game, I turn into an old man.
Of course, not all old men are swearers.
But I couldn't deny that I was starting to resemble the men hanging from the net at Sajik Stadium and screaming loudly.
--- pp.54-55
I won't deny it.
I valued his assists as much as his abilities as a center fielder.
But the reason I was heartbroken wasn't just because I lost a handsome player.
To begin with, I was a sports outsider, so I didn't even know the concept of athletes being bought and sold.
It wasn't until I started watching baseball that I began to understand that world a little bit.
In the past, it was news that I would have just heard in passing.
There are stories about Ronaldo receiving tens of millions of euros and going somewhere, or that Son Heung-min might transfer.
--- pp.79-80
It was his turn.
But before he stepped up to the plate, he took a few careful steps forward, holding his bat.
He took off his hat, held it in one hand, and bowed deeply, looking at the three sides of the stadium in turn.
First game after transfer, first at-bat.
It was a greeting to the fans of the home stadium where he played.
KT fans responded with applause.
A smile spread across his face.
I could read his heart even without him saying that he was grateful and that he would do his best wherever he was.
--- p.83
Tim Ingold, an anthropologist who viewed the world not as something that simply "is" but as something that "is becoming," called thread "a bundle in the process of becoming fabric."
To paraphrase his words, a baseball might be a "thread that is becoming parabolic."
Neither the one who sewed it nor the one who threw it can know what kind of wondrous trajectory the ball will draw.
And I move my hands in my own way and accompany the process.
A hand that wraps around.
Floating hand.
Stopping hand.
Loosening hand.
A hand drawing a parabola along the path of a thread.
--- pp.92-93
In the bustling crowd, a woman recognized a woman walking across from her and beamed with delight.
It seemed like it had been a long time since we last met.
The woman asked, brushing the raindrops off her shoulder.
“Do you still play baseball?”
It was a plain sentence with no emphasis on either word.
The woman across from me answered with the same words, just without the question mark.
“I still play baseball.”
--- pp.108-109
Publisher's Review
In an unpredictable world, we are left as helpless accomplices.
Just watching, just getting angry
As a late bloomer, I studied and learned about baseball every evening, and before I knew it, I had become a fan of the Hanwha Eagles.
As I became more and more immersed in the game as a fan, I felt myself becoming more and more angry.
Swear words and vulgar language would spill out of my mouth at every opportunity.
I couldn't deny that I was starting to resemble the men hanging from the net at Sajik Stadium and screaming loudly.
There's a saying that baseball isn't something you watch to have fun, it's something you watch to get angry.
If you think about it, isn't this a saying that transcends age and gender and penetrates the emotions of baseball fans?
Kim Young-geul asks and answers.
Why do baseball fans get so angry so often and so unusually?
“The reason is simple.
Because there are many opportunities to get angry.
Yet baseball fans watch the games every day.
If you can't do it, you get angry and say you can't do it, and if you can do it well, you get angry and say why you couldn't do it yesterday.
The game always throws up ridiculous situations.
The manager makes incomprehensible decisions, and the player you trusted makes a critical mistake.
No matter how well a team plays, one small error can turn the game around.
And fans can't interfere in the game even if they put their heart and soul into it.”
Still, what is the mindset of the fans who don't turn off the game?
What is the state of mind that, once you give your heart, you don't change teams as easily as turning over the palm of your hand?
Baseball fans are people who watch despair until the end and wait for the sun to rise again tomorrow.
But, while getting angry.
"Even introverts go to the baseball stadium."
I really don't want to go to the baseball stadium, but I really want to go.
Isn't that the heart of an introverted baseball fan?
Kim Young-geul, an introvert, finally finds the courage to go to that place where anger and energy are seething.
I go to the baseball stadium and watch the game in an introverted way, carefully observing the other spectators, and then come back.
Meanwhile, the more I learned about baseball, the more I learned about myself.
He was a person who couldn't watch a shortened baseball game.
“The expression on the batter’s shoulder after striking out, how the batter misunderstood the manager’s signal, when the starting pitcher’s mentality began to waver, what joke was written on the cheering board in the stands that was briefly caught on camera” I had to see the small details myself to fully feel the suspense.
Perhaps the very nature of reading and love, which I love, was to reject efficiency from the beginning.
There was another thing I learned through baseball.
Even if he's a friend, he's the kind of person who would get upset if a soccer fan belittled baseball.
I wonder how a soccer fan who can watch a game even in December could possibly understand the hardships of a baseball fan who gets angry whether there's a game or not, no matter what season it is.
“How could I love the owner? I love you.”
Becoming a baseball fan was a time of both joy and shame.
Kim Young-geul felt ashamed and guilty about the contradiction in his love and support for the Eagles despite knowing that the team owner, Hanwha, was conducting unethical business.
“The desire to have a great team just by existing” reared its head.
But he realizes that the act of liking itself is already a practice.
Love isn't about enduring perfect justice, it's about enduring complex emotions and rooting for your team to the end, it's about embracing the weight of contradiction, shame, and responsibility.
That was the fate of those who chose to live as fans.
“If we could only love those who had fathers we admired, if love only worked that way, our love story would be a very boring one.
There are countless strings of fate between me and the world.
“It is my job to hold on to it, to cut it off, and to use it as a support to look at the world again.” (pp. 33-34)
“Do you still play baseball?” “I still play baseball.”
: Somewhere there's a woman playing baseball.
Kim Young-geul is quite perplexed to discover that the intersection between baseball and women is surprisingly small and somewhat distorted.
Even as female audiences are called derogatory terms like "fashion fan" and "fool," women are busy.
I'm busy watching the game, I'm busy cheering, I'm busy opening my wallet in front of the goods.
There is no time to waste judging other people's opinions.
One day, while visiting Uljin to watch women playing baseball, the author saw two female players, seemingly meeting for the first time in a long time, asking and answering questions in a light rain.
“Do you still play baseball?”
“I still play baseball.”
In that brief conversation, the author sensed the fatigue and longing that had built up over a long period of time, and searched the Internet to find the schedule for the next women's baseball tournament.
I play baseball with the hope of enjoying seasonal fruits.
The baseball that Kim Young-geul encountered and understood was not just a simple sport.
Unlike most sports, baseball wasn't a story of war, but of ultimately "coming home."
This nature of baseball may fit well with the flow of the four seasons.
The author waits for baseball with the same heart as he waits for seasonal fruits.
Waiting for sweet corn in early summer, persimmons in fall, tangerines and Cheonhyehyang in winter, and salty tomatoes in spring were his ways of coping with seasonal fruits when he was feeling down.
Since baseball came into his life, he has gained another way to sense the four seasons.
The flow of time and the change of seasons were reorganized around the professional baseball league.
He feels that the rhythm of his daily life has changed in that short cycle.
“Baseball taught me the true pleasure of a ‘reset.’
When the ground thaws and the scent of the earth lingers, the baseball field will reopen.
Everything starts from zero.
0 wins 0 losses.
Ten teams stand at the same starting line.
The players slowly warm up their bodies, which they have worked on all winter, and the front office carefully analyzes the opposing teen's strength.
Spring is the season when hope is granted.
“A naive belief that everything will be alright sprouts in the hearts of fans.” (p. 137)
Just as spring returns, the baseball season will begin as usual every year.
For some, the start of the baseball season means planting a flagpole to start anew in an unpredictable world.
People who endure failure and wait for tomorrow again.
"Anyway, Baseball" is a cute tribute to that world.
Just watching, just getting angry
As a late bloomer, I studied and learned about baseball every evening, and before I knew it, I had become a fan of the Hanwha Eagles.
As I became more and more immersed in the game as a fan, I felt myself becoming more and more angry.
Swear words and vulgar language would spill out of my mouth at every opportunity.
I couldn't deny that I was starting to resemble the men hanging from the net at Sajik Stadium and screaming loudly.
There's a saying that baseball isn't something you watch to have fun, it's something you watch to get angry.
If you think about it, isn't this a saying that transcends age and gender and penetrates the emotions of baseball fans?
Kim Young-geul asks and answers.
Why do baseball fans get so angry so often and so unusually?
“The reason is simple.
Because there are many opportunities to get angry.
Yet baseball fans watch the games every day.
If you can't do it, you get angry and say you can't do it, and if you can do it well, you get angry and say why you couldn't do it yesterday.
The game always throws up ridiculous situations.
The manager makes incomprehensible decisions, and the player you trusted makes a critical mistake.
No matter how well a team plays, one small error can turn the game around.
And fans can't interfere in the game even if they put their heart and soul into it.”
Still, what is the mindset of the fans who don't turn off the game?
What is the state of mind that, once you give your heart, you don't change teams as easily as turning over the palm of your hand?
Baseball fans are people who watch despair until the end and wait for the sun to rise again tomorrow.
But, while getting angry.
"Even introverts go to the baseball stadium."
I really don't want to go to the baseball stadium, but I really want to go.
Isn't that the heart of an introverted baseball fan?
Kim Young-geul, an introvert, finally finds the courage to go to that place where anger and energy are seething.
I go to the baseball stadium and watch the game in an introverted way, carefully observing the other spectators, and then come back.
Meanwhile, the more I learned about baseball, the more I learned about myself.
He was a person who couldn't watch a shortened baseball game.
“The expression on the batter’s shoulder after striking out, how the batter misunderstood the manager’s signal, when the starting pitcher’s mentality began to waver, what joke was written on the cheering board in the stands that was briefly caught on camera” I had to see the small details myself to fully feel the suspense.
Perhaps the very nature of reading and love, which I love, was to reject efficiency from the beginning.
There was another thing I learned through baseball.
Even if he's a friend, he's the kind of person who would get upset if a soccer fan belittled baseball.
I wonder how a soccer fan who can watch a game even in December could possibly understand the hardships of a baseball fan who gets angry whether there's a game or not, no matter what season it is.
“How could I love the owner? I love you.”
Becoming a baseball fan was a time of both joy and shame.
Kim Young-geul felt ashamed and guilty about the contradiction in his love and support for the Eagles despite knowing that the team owner, Hanwha, was conducting unethical business.
“The desire to have a great team just by existing” reared its head.
But he realizes that the act of liking itself is already a practice.
Love isn't about enduring perfect justice, it's about enduring complex emotions and rooting for your team to the end, it's about embracing the weight of contradiction, shame, and responsibility.
That was the fate of those who chose to live as fans.
“If we could only love those who had fathers we admired, if love only worked that way, our love story would be a very boring one.
There are countless strings of fate between me and the world.
“It is my job to hold on to it, to cut it off, and to use it as a support to look at the world again.” (pp. 33-34)
“Do you still play baseball?” “I still play baseball.”
: Somewhere there's a woman playing baseball.
Kim Young-geul is quite perplexed to discover that the intersection between baseball and women is surprisingly small and somewhat distorted.
Even as female audiences are called derogatory terms like "fashion fan" and "fool," women are busy.
I'm busy watching the game, I'm busy cheering, I'm busy opening my wallet in front of the goods.
There is no time to waste judging other people's opinions.
One day, while visiting Uljin to watch women playing baseball, the author saw two female players, seemingly meeting for the first time in a long time, asking and answering questions in a light rain.
“Do you still play baseball?”
“I still play baseball.”
In that brief conversation, the author sensed the fatigue and longing that had built up over a long period of time, and searched the Internet to find the schedule for the next women's baseball tournament.
I play baseball with the hope of enjoying seasonal fruits.
The baseball that Kim Young-geul encountered and understood was not just a simple sport.
Unlike most sports, baseball wasn't a story of war, but of ultimately "coming home."
This nature of baseball may fit well with the flow of the four seasons.
The author waits for baseball with the same heart as he waits for seasonal fruits.
Waiting for sweet corn in early summer, persimmons in fall, tangerines and Cheonhyehyang in winter, and salty tomatoes in spring were his ways of coping with seasonal fruits when he was feeling down.
Since baseball came into his life, he has gained another way to sense the four seasons.
The flow of time and the change of seasons were reorganized around the professional baseball league.
He feels that the rhythm of his daily life has changed in that short cycle.
“Baseball taught me the true pleasure of a ‘reset.’
When the ground thaws and the scent of the earth lingers, the baseball field will reopen.
Everything starts from zero.
0 wins 0 losses.
Ten teams stand at the same starting line.
The players slowly warm up their bodies, which they have worked on all winter, and the front office carefully analyzes the opposing teen's strength.
Spring is the season when hope is granted.
“A naive belief that everything will be alright sprouts in the hearts of fans.” (p. 137)
Just as spring returns, the baseball season will begin as usual every year.
For some, the start of the baseball season means planting a flagpole to start anew in an unpredictable world.
People who endure failure and wait for tomorrow again.
"Anyway, Baseball" is a cute tribute to that world.
GOODS SPECIFICS
- Date of issue: November 1, 2025
- Page count, weight, size: 144 pages | 170g | 110*178*12mm
- ISBN13: 9791193044353
- ISBN10: 1193044359
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카테고리
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