Genius Pitcher Hides 170Km [EN]: Chapter 229

#228. Synergy

Thwack!

“Out!”

Derek Fleming’s well-hit ball flew straight into the first baseman’s glove.

“Damn it!”

“Derek, that was close.”

“Sorry. Maybe I should have watched the ball a little longer?”

“No, that was good enough. Go get ready for defense.”

“Alright, but just so you know, that guy’s pitching is insane today. Damn, my fingers are still buzzing.”

Derek, who had been showing me a slightly burdensome amount of friendliness since the bench clearing, massaged his fingers and headed into the dugout.

He was right.

Tyson Barsham, whom I had faced countless times in my previous life, was in top condition today, so familiar even after seeing him again after so many years.

He might not be the best in the league, but he’s definitely in the top five among American League left-handed pitchers, inducing swings and misses with his heavy fastball and changeup.

To put it simply, he’s like Ryu Han-gyeol’s final evolution.

In my past life, that guy always stood in Seattle’s way at crucial moments.

Back then, he was still powerful even in his mid-thirties, and now he’s glaring at me with an even younger body.

Hold on.

Why is he glaring at me like that?

I used to hit that stubborn guy’s pitches pretty well, but there’s no way he’d remember that.

Is it just some kind of ingrained animosity towards me in his genes?

“Play!”

Whatever the reason, it’s none of my business.

Come to think of it, we’re not exactly on friendly terms where we’d smile and greet each other.

One of the reasons I turned down the Yankees’ offer during the last posting was because that team was full of guys like Tyson.

I’m not talking about their personality or anything.

How should I put it? They’re just stubborn guys, I guess?

They’ve lived their whole lives aiming to wear the Yankees uniform, so once they join the team, they’re willing to sacrifice themselves for whatever the organization tells them to do. There are more than a few of those guys in that team’s dugout.

I get tired just exchanging a few words with those guys at the All-Star Game, so you want me to play on the same team?

Whoosh.

Thwack!

“Strike!”

I thought about swinging at the first pitch, but I decided to watch one first.

He was still the same.

A heavy fastball around 98 mph, which isn’t super fast by Big League standards, but difficult to hit because of its high spin rate.

It’s a pitch that resembles that stubborn guy perfectly.

Before today’s game, a guy named Lucas Anderson came to our dugout.

He said he was there to greet Tai Johnson, but I felt like he kept looking at me.

When I asked him what was up, he didn’t try to beat around the bush and asked me directly.

Whether I regretted turning down the Yankees uniform.

I don’t know.

Is that what happens when people are constantly injected with the same ideology in a fixed environment?

Why do they attach so much significance to rejecting that uniform?

Do they really think the team is more important than themselves?

Even though their own self is the most important thing in the world, why do they try to degrade themselves into a part of the team?

I can’t understand those Yankees guys, whether in the past or now.

Honestly, I don’t even want to understand them.

Anyway, one thing is clear: the memories of constantly being pushed back by the Yankees in my past life still remain with me.

That’s why I’m going to crush the Yankees today.

Thoroughly,

So they can never crawl back up again,

So they’ll choke and piss their pants just by looking at me.

Tap tap.

If it were Tyson Barsham from my past life, who was heading towards his late 30s, he would have thrown a couple of decoy pitches here.

But now he’s only in his early thirties.

An age when he’s at his peak in terms of skill and physicality, and when he has blind faith in his abilities as a player.

That’s why I’m sure he’ll throw another challenge pitch here.

Swish.

A new batting form that I adjusted to adapt to the Big Leagues.

This form, which is slightly closer to an open stance to deal with fast inside pitches, is now quite familiar.

The pitcher on the mound started his windup.

Kicking height, arm angle, everything is different from the guy’s form in my memory.

I slightly increased my reaction speed and adjusted the bat angle accordingly.

While I was preparing, the ball was released from his fingertips.

Now all I need is confidence in myself.

I swung with all my might at the trajectory of the 98 mph fastball without hesitation.

Thwaaaaaaaaaack!

Tyson Barsham’s face turned pale with the intense sound of the hit.

It was a really solid hit after a long time.

I unconsciously placed my bat on the ground and watched the direction of the hit.

“Fucking! You stupid bastard!”

“Die! Getting hit like that right from the start?”

“Kill that cocky rookie! Kill him!”

A huge amount of boos poured down from the stands towards the pitcher who got hit with a home run, and towards me.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

The ball flew over the Yankee Stadium fence and out of the stadium altogether.

The boos grew even louder.

I shrugged at the crowd and slowly started towards first base.

“You son of a bitch, Tyson is going to smash your head in.”

“Go ahead, you must have forgotten, but I’m the starting pitcher today. If you can’t blow my head off in one go, then all of your team’s starters’ heads will be smashed in.”

The second baseman, feeling bad that I was looking at the hit ball, started a fight that didn’t even make sense.

I think I remember exchanging punches with this guy once before.

A bench clearing, I welcome it anytime.

Can the Yankees nerds, who only know how to keep a solemn face, actually throw a ball at my head?

Even if they do, it doesn’t matter. It’ll be their turn next.

Thud.

“Wooooooo!”

“Get lost! You unlucky bastard! Get your foot off home plate and get out of here!”

The crowd’s boos grew louder and more intense as I returned to home.

I love this sight, filled with pinstripe uniforms where you can’t find a single visiting fan.

The thought of those boos turning into sighs of despair in a moment makes me smile.

“Hehe, you monster.”

“Tai.”

“What.”

“Aim for the first pitch.”

“The first pitch? Hmm, okay. I know what you mean. I’ll keep it in mind.”

* * *

It wasn’t just ESPN that was broadcasting today’s game.

The KBC duo, Go Dong-sik and Park Cheol-min, who came all the way from Korea and were allowed to stay locally for the first month of the season, were also broadcasting Han Su-hyeok’s game with their eyes wide open.

– Uwaaaaa!

– Commissioner?

– I’m so proud… I mean, I’m proud! At Yankee Stadium, the capital of American baseball and the heart of the Major League, Han Su-hyeok has hit the ball of Yankees ace Tyson Barsham and sent it out of the stadium!

– Yes, it’s really, well, shocking. It’s not like I haven’t seen Han Su-hyeok’s home runs in Korea once or twice, but to hit the Yankees ace’s ball so easily like that is really… Oh, oh, oh! As I’m speaking, Seattle’s number 3 hitter, Tai Johnson, hits the first pitch… It’s, it’s, it’s over! Back-to-back home runs! The Mariners score two points in the first inning with back-to-back home runs from Han Su-hyeok and Tai Johnson!

– Wow, that’s really amazing. This is it. By placing Tai Johnson in succession right after Han Su-hyeok, it creates this amazing synergy effect. Look at the pitcher’s expression on the mound. He looks as pale as if he’s about to collapse, right? As a former pitcher, I’m telling you, he’s mentally broken. He’ll never recover easily.

– Yes, to be honest, when Han Su-hyeok first chose Seattle, I thought, well, I thought it would be better to go to a more prestigious club. But no. Now that I think about it, Han Su-hyeok’s choice was absolutely right. It seems that having Tai Johnson behind him is a huge help to Han Su-hyeok.

– That’s right. I agree. Above all, Han Su-hyeok has a track record of leading the Warriors, the lowest-ranked team in Korea, to win the Korean Series [Korea’s equivalent of the World Series] for three consecutive years, right? As you all know, the Seattle Mariners have never advanced to the World Series since their founding. I believe. I believe that Han Su-hyeok will be the player who will lead Seattle to win the World Series for the first time in history.

– Yes, I hope that will be the case. Ah, the Yankees’ pitching coach is coming up to the mound, and the game has been temporarily suspended. This is Yankee Stadium in New York, USA, where the second game of the season between the New York Yankees and the Seattle Mariners is being held.

* * *

Tap tap.

“Hey, are you getting excited? I don’t like Tyson that much either, but that last one was clearly a mistake. You don’t have to take revenge. You understand what I’m saying, right?”

“I know, it was a mistake. He was more surprised than the hitter, don’t you think?”

“Good, I’m glad you understand. Oh, and I’ll basically be calling the signs, but you can call them yourself if you don’t like them. But I have one request.”

“Request?”

“Damn it, you’re too fast-paced. It’s hard to keep up. Just a little, just slow down a little.”

“Hmm, okay. I’ll try.”

“Okay. Then let’s get started.”

In the top of the first inning, Seattle scored 2 points with back-to-back home runs from Han Su-hyeok and Tai Johnson.

And in the following at-bat, Tyson Barsham, who was excited, threw a ball that headed towards the head of Seattle’s fourth hitter, Chuck Clark.

The 97 mph fastball grazed the end of his helmet.

But there was no bench clearing.

Despite the Big League atmosphere where they don’t usually show any apologies, Tyson repeatedly indicated that it was a mistake by tapping his chest with his hand.

It was clear that it was a sequelae after allowing back-to-back home runs.

Although they didn’t score any additional points due to the next hitter, Jim Brown’s double play, Seattle had taken the lead.

That’s how the top of the first inning ended, and Han Su-hyeok went to the mound in the bottom of the first inning.

“What! How many Asians are there on that team? The guy who hit the home run earlier also has a ‘Han’ in his name, and the pitcher is also ‘Han’?”

“Hey, watch your mouth. That’s a racist remark. And are you even watching the baseball properly? It’s the same player, isn’t it?”

“Really? The same player? Oh, oh, like that Ohtani guy from before?”

“That’s right, so shut up and watch the baseball.”

“Damn it, since when did I have to buy a ticket with my own money and watch my words?”

Now and then, Americans’ insensitivity is second to none.

Perhaps it’s because they’re caught up in the pride that their country is the best in the world, but these people, who are completely indifferent to other people’s things, other people’s teams, other people’s countries, and other people’s players, didn’t even know that the player who hit the home run in the previous at-bat and the player on the mound were the same person.

Even though Han Su-hyeok crushed the KBO [Korean Baseball Organization] and played an active role on the international stage, the majority of Yankees fans still didn’t even know his name properly. Of course, not everyone is like that.

What was important to them was not who Han Su-hyeok was.

They were just annoyed and angry that their beloved world’s best team had allowed a home run to a black-haired player who they didn’t even know where he came from.

“Giving up a point is one thing, but let’s get it back quickly. Unless you want to see me throw dynamite on the ground!”

“If you want to keep selling this disgustingly chewy and tasteless hot dog for $15, then turn the game around quickly, you bastards!”

Amidst the tremendous boos from the home team fans that would never end until the Yankees turned the game around, Han Su-hyeok slowly began to warm up.

95 mph,

100 mph,

105 mph,

The Yankees fans’ boos gradually subsided in the face of the speed that was increasing little by little, as if shifting a car gear.

Whoosh.

Thwaaaaaack!

And finally, at 107 mph,

The Yankees fans’ mouths were completely shut in the face of the overwhelming and destructive power of the ball that they had never seen before.

“Play!”

The Yankees’ first attack began.