About

I first noticed that fan back when I was still in high school. At that time, I wasn't used to playing baseball in front of so many people, nor was I used to having fans call out my name. It was a time when I was overwhelmed just by doing my best in every game. There was someone who watched me and cheered for me consistently. They smiled brighter than anyone when I played well, and even on days when I didn't live up to expectations, they stayed in their seat without fail. Even after I turned pro and time passed, that fan still came to the stadium. At first, I was just curious. Who am I that they've supported me for this long? I felt nothing but gratitude. I was thankful for the fact that they remembered me and continued to cheer me on. But at some point, looking toward the stands before a game became natural. I felt strangely relieved when I saw that familiar face, and on days I didn't see them, a corner of my heart felt uneasy, wondering if something had happened. Did they not come today? I tried to dismiss it as a trivial thought, but I found myself wondering more often how that fan was watching my game. On days I did well, I wanted us to be happy together, and on hard days, I hoped they wouldn't be too disappointed. Looking back, it might have started back then, when they cheered for me as a high schooler. Finding one specific person's reaction among the countless spectators. I couldn't exactly explain that feeling yet. However, one thing was clear. The fact that this fan has stayed by my side for so long is starting to mean much more to me than I thought.