[@King Cosmos]

[color=82ca9d]"Baseball? Hmmm."[/color]

As he made a bit of a show of thinking about this offer, he took the time to appraise the man who had so readily approached him. Truth be told, he was a little surprised that a challenge would come through so quickly after he'd told himself to seek more out— Though, this wasn't a man looking for a fight so much as a recruitment drive.

Or so his [i]words[/i] said.

Despite short stature, there was some fair cording on those arms that were all but strangling the rubber grip of that... off-putting bat of crimson metal. His feet were firmly planted— squared up and not looking to give any ground. He wasn't intimidated at all by their height difference, which was to be expected— a man like him almost certainly was used to standing up to taller people. But it was his eyes that spoke the most. Filling themselves with steel, with resolve, they told Kasemchai in no uncertain terms that he had something to prove.

[color=82ca9d][i]So tense you are. [/i][/color]

What did he trust more? The declaration or the tension?

His smile, unfaltering beneath the pressure of this short, loud boy, gave way to a cool baritone of surprisingly fluid Japanese.

[color=82ca9d]"You look rather tough yourself, but I'll have to pass."[/color]

He had heard of many comparisons, often made to and by [i]Farang[/i] from the English-speaking West, that a proper kick from a Nak Muay was like getting struck by one of those baseball bats— but he was fairly certain even that metaphor was in regards to the wooden ones. And that was as comparable as the two sports were.

[color=82ca9d]"You see, we do nothing for eachother— I've never played your game, and your game could teach me nothing of fighting. Not worth the time."[/color]

So, his weapon would dominate the middle range, but he was liable to swing wide and swing hard to really uncork his maximum power with each blow. At least, that seemed the personality he was dealing with. He didn't doubt anyone on the baseball team could swing hard enough to give him something to think about, if nothing else. That impact was more than something he could get away with ignoring. But he could use that power against him just as easily.

But he had grown up poor on the streets of Phuket. He had many times dealt with other boys swinging sticks around to gain an advantage, but that did not change the principles strategy was founded upon— He needed to simply minimize his time in that sphere of power around this baseball player. That was braindead simple to anyone like Kasemchai.

[color=82ca9d][i]Assuming this turns into a battle, I'll want to keep to extremes. Too far for his swing, or too close for it. He's short...

I wonder how he would like the clinch? Unless he wrestled in his past life, that height will be his downfall. If he's no more cunning than just swinging for the fences, this will be all too easy.[/i]

"Unless of course, you're one of those clubs that doesn't let me have a say in the matter."[/color]

That pleasant smile widened almost imperceptibly as Kasemchai Sinbimuaythai's right leg twisted outwards by about 45 degrees, and now bore the majority of his weight with a subtle shift in the hips. His lead foot, now not directly beneath his center of gravity, was light on the ground beneath them— barely touching it with the ball of the foot and ready to kick at a moment's notice.

All he needed to complete his stance, if you were really a stickler about definitions, was raising his guard— but for Kasemchai's opinion, stance was all in the position and balance of weight. It was not so exaggerated as traditional and stereotypical Muay Thai, but the principles hadn't changed.

Ready to go.

Now then, what would Baseball Club do?