Hey,
The Korean Game of Baseball.
The boundary of the baseball field could be defined by the crowd of families that sat at the edge of the foul lines. Colorful silk covered the outfield fence.
Four men sat on a man made hill overlooking the field behind the home team. Seperated from the crowd by a fence. Korean and American bodyguards eyeing the crowd and each other. The men's chairs were lined up in a shallow semicircle on a low wooden porch. Above and behind them was a large silk & canvas pavilion to keep them in the shade.
John Finley watched the baseball game with the intensity of a cat ready to pounce. To him it was a personal war between two men and only one would be victorious. The pitcher and batter locked simple combat. Contests like these had won him a lot of money.
"Strike One!" The crowd voiced the call in a single very loud. "Strike One!"
John Finley's face twisted and a groan escaped his lips with the call. He leaned back in his chair to address the Minister. "The money can be raised if we had the manpower." John Finley was new to Korea. A banking genius from New England.

"Take that you little yellow bastard!" Jackson "Fireball" Floyd, star pitcher of the professional
Gulf Coast Tides of Biloxi yelled as he received the ball from his catcher. The team was touring Korea on what was called a "diplomatic mission". Spreading good will and baseball to the world. Here in Korea it meant major dealings. Taking the ball from his glove he tucked the glove under his arm. All the while keeping a eye on the runner at third base. Floyd worked his chew into a juicy mass and spat a good amount of tobacco juice on the ball. He worked it in a little and rubbed his glove hand on his heavy uniform. He put on his glove and returned to the mound.
"The time the Emperor has asked us to complete the rail lines is beyond anyone's toil." Said a man wearing the suit of a US gentleman farmer with what was called a deep southern draw. "Herckules himself could not finish such a task."
"Would a large increase of slave labor help in this matter?" Minister Ni Sin said shifting his large form to better talk to Finley. "I have the support of the King for the Iron Rails Act."
"Strike Two." Once again just as every other time the crowd roared the call. "Strike Two!"
"I don't like the idea of using slave labor." Said John Finley, again with a contorted face. "Damn you sir, I missed the pitch." He turned back to watch the game. "The Korean people are trying to make a new future. One of freedom and luxury. Besides. Those poor souls will not meet the numbers we would need."

The Korean batter Hyo Jae Seul stepped back to clean the mud from his cleats. The young man had come a long way to be here. Land reform had lost the family its land and they were forced to Hanseong to find work. Work was in abundance at the newly built dangerous and deadly factories. He learned his style of baseball from the rough and offen violent American sailors stationed in the capital. Word spread of his ability and he was awarded with a contract of 45 Goldbacked Imperials. He was now rich and a star for the
The Korean Empires.
"Hurry up oriental" Yelled the American umpire at Hyo Jae Seul.
"I do not like the idea of slaves either." Collis Potter Huntington said taking the Cuban cigar from his mouth. He was a Californian railroading genius. and very greedy. "But using the petty criminals is not really using slaves. They are paid and will have the good Chief Hollymede's promised doctors tend to their medical needs." Collis leaned over and elbowed Ni Sin in his fat side. "The money gets my train a rolling." He laughed at his own joke.
"The remaining manpower needed for this venture will be supplied by my slaves." Major Clintus P. Ewell, one of the largest Slave Merchants in the United States, caught his words. "Excuse me gentlemen my foe pah?" He tipped his hat. "My property will fill the remaining needs. Plus the Chief at the Sun has given us the pleasure of his new doctors for all medical needs for them." He leaned forward Finley. "That is three votes to one and its over."
"Strike Three!" This time the crowd finished with "OUT!"

"No Major Ewell and friends." John Finley stood and stepped from the porch into the sun. "Its looks like extra innings."
Blaze Injun
OOC I wrote this Twice. The first and truthfully better one was lost earlier. This is fragments from memory. And it was my idea about baseball.
