episode_0013

“Come on, come on. Focus. Let’s get just one out! You can do it, right?”

In the bottom of the sixth inning where Hanche High School was leading 4:3, Kim Won-ho, the ace pitcher of Hanche High School, found himself in a tight spot with two outs and runners on second and third base. The coach came up to the mound and called all the infielders together.

“Especially you fielders. Stay focused. Got it?”

“Yes!”

Hmm, I’ve got 2 hits and 1 RBI in 3 at-bats so far, so I’m hitting pretty well.

‘To think he’s only thinking about his own batting even during a meeting with the coach.’

Did Rosby say that? A nobleman without team spirit saying such things, did I hear wrong? I immediately confirmed if what I heard was correct.

“Why?”

“Hehe. Excellent. Remember that there’s something more important than winning or losing. Especially with amateurs like these.”

Well, that makes sense.

“Everyone understood what I said?”

“Yes!”

As the coach walked off the mound, Won-ho uttered a final word.

“Then trust me and pitch. I beg you.”

“Won-ho hyung, don’t worry and throw it my way!”

“Senior, trust me and aim for the body!”

The shortstop and third baseman responded to Won-ho’s words.

‘That guy seems to be in trouble too.’

“Who, Won-ho? Why?”

To evaluate a promising prospect likely to be drafted first with a top speed of 150 km/h and good control as a right-handed pitcher.

‘When a pitcher trusts the defense. That’s when the pitcher is done. As a pitcher, you should be thinking about striking out. Once you send the ball to the ground, doesn’t that mean leaving it to luck?’

“What are you talking about? If you trust the fielders and pitch, how do you strike out every batter?”

‘I thought he had grown, but apparently not. Well, it’s my monkey-like understanding that needs to understand.’

“Stop babbling and explain.”

“I already explained. This stubborn brat. Once the ball is inside the field, nothing that happens is strange. The pitcher has to suppress that as much as possible.”

Hmm… I’ve heard this theory somewhere before. It seems like Sabermetrics also discussed this kind of content.

“But, weren’t there no Sabermetrics-like things when the old man died? How do you know so well?”

Certainly, Rosby died in the 60s.

“You’re ignorant. There were things like that even before I died.”

“Really? But it must have been in its early stages, right?”

“I wouldn’t know that. You’re a monkey brat.”

“Mang-ho, aren’t you going back?”

After talking with Rosby and regaining focus, the other juniors had already returned to their positions.

“Fight on, Jasha.”

“Got it, Jjashik.”

I just went with the flow, but it seemed like Won-ho mistakenly thought I was staying until the end to support him. He’s not a bad guy either.

“Why? Are you sorry then?”

“Like that would happen.”

“You trash.”

“Will only the old man do it?”

Perhaps because he blended so well with Rosby, I didn’t feel any sense of apology.

“Isn’t it because a good teacher leads to a student learning well?”

“Yeah, it’s a good attitude. Hehehe.”

As I returned to my defensive position, the game resumed. With two outs and no runners on base, Kim Won-ho wound up and delivered the ball.

Crack!

With a loud sound from the catcher’s mitt, the ball thrown by Kim Won-ho was sucked in.

“Strike!”

Kim Won-ho’s full-force pitch received a strike call from the umpire.

“Oh, it must have been around 150, right?”

Although the radar gun reading wasn’t displayed on the scoreboard, it seemed to be around that speed based on perception. Clearly, with scouts gathered, he threw the ball at top speed in a crisis situation.

The batters from Sungnam Industrial High School couldn’t make a move against Kim Won-ho’s power pitching, seemingly considering this inning as the last.

The catcher signals for a slider, and Kim Won-ho shakes his head. The pitcher’s instinct is to throw the pitch he feels most confident with in a crisis situation. Unless the coach gives the sign directly, Kim Won-ho probably intends to finish this inning with a fastball.

The coach doesn’t typically get involved in ball mixing.

“It seems like your baseball IQ isn’t low.”

“I’ve been playing baseball for a few years, so I should know this.”

“In that case, the opponent must also be aware of that fact, right?”

Unless it’s a chimpanzee playing baseball solely based on strength, even a high school player can understand this much. That means…

“Yeah. The opponent must be aware of it too.”

In a one-strike situation, it’s standard to call for an off-speed pitch. Lowering the head there indicates an intention to throw a fastball. The opposing batter must be aware of that fact, and Kim Won-ho must be aware of it as well.

It’s a showdown between a batter aiming for a fastball and a pitcher throwing one. A situation where power meets power is inevitable. Moreover, the opposing batter is a left-handed hitter. The probability of the ball coming towards me was high.

“Focus.”

“Got it.”

Once again, Kim Won-ho winds up and the ball leaves his hand. The ball seemed to be sucked into the bat at a rapid speed.

Crack!

A cheerful sound is heard as the well-hit ball quickly rolls towards me, between second base and first base. It feels like the world is moving slowly. Instinctively, I dive and reach out with my glove.

“Did I catch it?!”

Thud.

“Ugh.”

The glove hits the ball, causing it to drop. I get up, grab the ball that fell on the ground, and quickly throw it towards first base. Perhaps due to Rossbi’s experience of throwing towards first base thousands, maybe tens of thousands of times, even though my posture was crumbling and I couldn’t see the first baseman properly, I could still have confidence in my throw.

Pang!

I hear the sound of the ball hitting the mitt at first base. Since I stumbled while throwing the ball, I couldn’t see the situation, waiting for the first base umpire’s call.

“Out!!”

The first base umpire declares loudly, “Out.”

“Nice!”

“What a defense?!”

Cheers from teammates accompany the out call. As Won-ho, who was covering first base, approaches, he reaches out his hand to me.

“Hey! What was that defense? Are you crazy?”

I grab Won-ho’s hand and help myself up.

“How was it?”

“Damn, I thought we were done for. I thought it was lucky just to block it.”

Won-ho’s excitement was a rare sight. No, did he miss all the matches because he didn’t play?

“If you’re thankful, buy me a meal.”

“Just words.”

We high-five with our gloves, head back to the dugout, and unexpectedly, the coach comes forward to talk to me.

“That was good defense.”

“Oh, thank you.”

He was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but it was a sincere compliment. What’s going on with this guy? I thought he didn’t like me.

Well, if we win this game, the Golden Lion Cup is guaranteed, so is that why?

Hanche High School is a typical weak team that hasn’t achieved much in national competitions. Their best record is reaching the quarterfinals. However, this year, with Kim Won-ho, the ace pitcher of the region, they are aiming for the championship, so this kind of reaction wasn’t that surprising.

After all, he is the coach of a team.

“Or maybe your wife is treating you well these days, pussy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Heh, isn’t that obvious? Because she satisfies you, your home is comfortable, and when your home is comfortable, your mind relaxes.”

“Well, that could be true. Speaking of that, how was my defense?”

“If it were me, I would have caught it in one go. You’re still lacking. If the ball speed had been faster, you would have missed it unless you improved.”

“It was quite fast.”

“It’s still high school level.”

“Understood.”

If it was at this level, I should have easily caught it. Without Rossbi’s experience, I would have definitely missed it. I needed more practice in defense.

“Mang-ho, I’m counting on you for a home run.”

8th inning, 2 outs. Kim Won-ho, who held Seongnam Shilup High School to 3 runs until the 7th inning, approached me before going up to bat.

Perhaps Won-ho will be substituted from the next inning? Our team’s other pitchers are not at a level where they can even say empty words. The one-point difference looked uneasy.

I smiled at Won-ho and entered the batter’s box. As I stepped in, I saw Han Young-jun sweating profusely on the mound.

“Then, I’ll ask for your favor.”

Before my words finished, Rossby went to his familiar position. The pitcher’s glove was clearly visible.

“The pitch I’m aiming for is a slider. You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

A slider. A left-handed pitcher like Han Young-jun throws a slider that breaks towards my body as a right-handed batter. If unexpected, it leads to a futile swing, but if anticipated, it’s an easy pitch to allow extra-base hits.

The issue is when to throw the slider, and today, I aimed for a slider in all three at-bats, resulting in 2 hits including a double. It was clear that they wouldn’t give me sliders easily.

“Now you won’t throw sliders anymore?”

I decided to provoke the catcher.

“Focus on the game.”

See this? There was annoyance in the voice of Seongnam Shilup High School’s catcher.

“Well, boasting about your slider, but all got hit anyway, aren’t you scared?”

“Hey. Stop chit-chatting and focus on the game.”

When I tried to provoke a bit more, the umpire intervened. Perhaps because they were students, it was a bit disappointing that umpires generally didn’t tolerate trash-talking.

“Oh, sorry.”

I quickly apologized and turned my head back towards Han Young-jun. He was shaking his head while rejecting the catcher’s sign.

“What does that mean? How about the grip?”

“The grip is a fastball.”

In the end, did he want to throw a fast ball? Although it was only around 140 km/h, Han Young-jun’s fastball had good deception and was solid, making it a bit tricky. Well, it wasn’t unhittable.

Having decided on the pitch, Han Young-jun nodded with a displeased expression. Not being able to poker face was typical of high school students. Even without Rossby, it was enough to know the pitch.

“A slider, right?”

“Yeah. You’re not clueless. The catcher asked for a low pitch.”

“Got it.”

It must be a low pitch dropping into the strike zone. No need to swing at it unnecessarily.

Han Young-jun’s pitch came as expected, low and outside. I didn’t flinch at the sight of that ball.

“Ball.”

“Just because I provoked you once, you think I’ll throw a slider right away, cute?”

“Hey.”

“I’m talking to myself. Talking to myself.”

Perhaps annoyed by my self-muttering mockery, this time the pitch came very close inside.

“Whoa! What are you doing!”

Knowing that he was targeting inside, I exaggeratedly stepped back, pretending to be surprised, looking at the umpire.

“Isn’t this a brushback pitch? It’s too close.”

“Ball. It was a harmless pitch.”

As the umpire spoke, a smirk under the catcher’s mask was visible.

“Understood.”

After scratching me once, he immediately threw a brushback pitch. Cute. Since he showed an exaggerated fear, he would probably stick one inside again. No more balls should be given, so he would confidently throw his fastball.

“Heh heh. Quite good for a monkey. Another inside pitch this time.”

After sharing Rossby’s experience, did baseball become too easy? Especially with high schoolers, it felt like the battery’s thoughts were all transparent. I leaned a bit closer to the plate than when I received the previous pitch.

Crack!

Again, I waited without swinging the bat. The ball seemed to come ambiguously close to the boundary of the strike zone. Depending on the umpire’s discretion, it could be a strike or a ball.

However, it seemed that the umpire judged in favor of me being closer to the plate due to my exaggerated lean and sticking to the plate more than before.

“Ball.”

“What? A ball?! It was right in there perfectly…”

“So, are you saying I saw it wrong?”

“No. That’s not what I meant.”

The home plate umpire was strict with the catcher as well.

“Tsk tsk, your pitching is a mess.”

“This guy…”

As I taunted under my breath, the catcher from Seongnam High School swallowed his curses. The catcher who should be stabilizing the pitcher was shaking like this. Still a long way to go. Far away.

Then, when I looked at the third base coach, the waiting sign came out. It must mean to watch one from a full count. If I were an ordinary player, after waiting for three balls in a row, waiting one more time would have been natural.

But I have Rosby.

“The catcher’s mitt is in the middle. The pitch is a slider.”

It felt like the battery’s desire to catch a strike no matter what reached this far. I replayed Han Young-jun’s slider in my mind, timing it and focusing all my attention on Han Young-jun’s body movements.

The ball leaving Han Young-jun’s hand seemed to be flying outside of John. However, knowing that this was a slider, I swung the bat without hesitation.

Crack!

A satisfying swing. From the hip turn to the follow-through. The ball disappeared high and fast. I watched the flying hit, casually tossed the bat, and slowly jogged towards first base. Even if I didn’t run hard, a home run was obvious.

“Wow!”

“Han Chego! Han Chego!”

“Ji Maeng-ho! Ji Maeng-ho! Ji Maeng-ho!”

“He’s insane! How many home runs is this?”

Raising my arm towards the noisy dugout, I naturally stepped on home base as if it were expected. Then, I exchanged high-fives with the on-deck batter.

A pleasure that couldn’t be felt in any other sex surged from my toes to my head.

Baseball is truly the best.