Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 284

Pitcher Down, Batter Up (2)

After getting rid of Lee Jung-woo, who could be considered their greatest nemesis, Christian Gomez quickly retired the next batter, Joey, with a ground ball, achieving a three-up, three-down inning.

Both Lee Jung-woo and Joey had hit the ball to the outfield, so compared to the impact of the pitching, it wasn’t a tremendously significant result.

But it was enough to lift the spirits of the fans, which had plummeted after the previous games.

[Strikeout! Christian Gomez strikes out three consecutive batters! A pitch that revives the Red Sox’s momentum, which had been sluggish after a series of losses!]

He recorded a three-up, three-down in the top of the 2nd inning, and then struck out three consecutive batters in the top of the 3rd, turning the embers in the audience’s hearts into a huge flame.

As a result, the Braves’ momentum, which had soared high, was slightly dampened.

However, the Braves also showed a comparable performance, handling the Red Sox’s lineup.

Even though their methods were slightly different.

“Boo!”

“Dirty Yankee bastard!”

“You were a nobody here, but you’re playing ace over there? You scrub.”

“You think you can win a championship just because you went to Atlanta? A loser like you can’t even dream of it!”

The words directed at the pitcher were quite harsh, even considering it was an away game.

It was only natural that the Red Sox fans were furious, as the pitcher who had worn the Yankees uniform and faced them last year was now the opposing team’s starting pitcher in the World Series.

“That son of a bitch!”

But perhaps it was true that he was used to being cursed at by Red Sox fans.

Alan O’Donnell picked at his ear with a ‘dogs are barking’ [meaning he was ignoring them] expression, which further provoked the home fans.

But there was nothing they could do, so they just seethed inside.

It would have been somewhat satisfying if the batters had hit a home run or something and thoroughly crushed him, but even that wasn’t easy.

[Bottom of the 3rd, Braves’ defense. Alan O’Donnell is the type of player who induces a lot of ground balls, right?]

[Yes, it’s kind of his specialty. His command and velocity aren’t particularly great, and his control is only decent, but he induces weak contact from batters to a bizarre extent.]

Alan O’Donnell, who played a big role in creating a beautiful regular season as a key member of the Braves’ powerful starting lineup, was a mysterious player to experts in many ways.

Clearly, he was just a slightly above-average pitcher in the league, but his performance was at the level of an A-class pitcher.

If he had consistently performed like that in the past, he would have been recognized, but he wasn’t that good of a pitcher during his Yankees days, which made it even more bizarre.

As a result, many said that this season was just a fluke. That he was performing better than his skills thanks to the Braves’ strong defense.

Those who mainly made such claims were Yankees fans, who had traded him away for almost nothing. But experts also agreed.

“So what if that’s the case?”

Alan O’Donnell didn’t care, even though he might have been annoyed that his efforts were being evaluated that way.

It was true that the defense behind him was solid, and it was his ability that brought him to such a team.

So instead of getting angry at those words, he simply acknowledged them coolly and used the defense even more actively.

[He hit it!]

Mickey Hudson, the Red Sox’s seventh batter, is just a decent hitter. Considering he’s a shortstop, you could say he’s reasonably good.

That kind of hitter swung the ball as usual, but soon felt that something was wrong.

He clearly felt a pleasant sensation in his hands, and in this case, he would create at least an outfield fly ball.

But defying his past experiences, the batted ball was very low.

[The batted ball hit the mound! The bounced ball-]

Still, he thought he could make an infield hit because the low shot bounced off the mound, creating an irregular bounce.

But as if to say that was impossible, a player ran towards the batted ball.

“Stop!”

[Lee catches it and throws to first~ Out!]

[A hustle play to catch the batted ball by jumping out instantly! This is the fun of watching his defense!]

Lee Jung-woo, who stopped third baseman Popin from running to catch the bounced ball, immediately picked up the ball and got the batter out.

The pitcher nodded with a satisfied expression, as if he knew that would happen.

The batters after that also created almost similar scenes and were out one after another.

Derek once, and then Lee Jung-woo again. In that way, they made three outs and the inning passed in an instant, and the Red Sox batters’ faces were filled with dismay.

“What is this…”

“Was O’Donnell this good?”

“When he was with the Yankees… we could still hit him, right? But why not today…”

It didn’t make sense.

If he was a pitcher they had never faced before, it would have been easier to accept. Thinking, ‘Ah, he’s just that kind of guy.’

But they had already faced O’Donnell. Even quite a lot because they were in the same division.

The bewilderment was even greater because it seemed a little different from the past, and as no hits came out during the first three innings, dissatisfaction gradually filled the fans’ eyes.

“You were good today. Keep doing that in the future.”

“You’re not even asking anymore?”

“Why ask when I know you’ll do well anyway? I’m just going to keep rolling you hard, so take care of the rest like you’re doing now~”

Belief. Alan O’Donnell’s changed or slightly stronger pitching came from belief.

The belief that if he did what he did best, everything else would be fine sometimes made the pitcher’s ball even more powerful.

Until now, that had continued to be effective, so O’Donnell, who was smiling at Lee Jung-woo, who was making an absurd expression at his brazen self, looked at the opposing team’s dugout as he returned to the bench.

“The result is the same. No matter what the process is. It’s enough to block them well.”

Christian Gomez, who had taken off his jumper in the Red Sox’s bench, was preparing to go back to the mound.

He was a bit flustered by the attack that ended sooner than expected.

He was a pitcher he had always envied since he was with the Yankees. He wondered why he couldn’t throw that kind of ball, and he even felt self-loathing.

But now he just laughed. Three up, three down for that side, three up, three down for this side. No hits for that side, no hits for me either. They both made it to the World Series.

‘You have the talent as a pitcher. And I have this guy.’

Isn’t it fair? He didn’t have that talent, but he got these teammates instead.

Of course, he knows very well that it’s not that fair.

‘Now my side is much more advantageous.’

A ridiculously perfect teammate was enough to completely turn the tilted scales to the other side.

“Hit a home run. That way, I can throw more comfortably. Captain, Captain, hit a home run too.”

“I’m going to do that anyway.”

“A home run is a bit much, but instead, I’ll be a runner when Lee hits a home run. How about that?”

“That’s enough!”

They were somewhat ambiguous answers, but they were reliable people, just like in defense, so O’Donnell just smiled even more without saying a word.

####

“Are you going to use that?”

“I think a lighter one would be better.”

When the change of attack and defense began.

Lee Jung-woo picked up a new bat. He had originally chosen the heaviest bat, but this time he chose the lightest one he had.

‘The key point of Fenway Park is bat speed.’

Trusting his judgment, he showed Derek, who had gone out first, a clenched fist as if to cheer him on, and then swung the bat several times to get a better feel for it.

It was a very slight difference, but it definitely felt lighter. The speed was also a little faster.

Satisfied with his practice, he looked at the home plate again, and the game was still going on.

[Foul~ Derek Hunt, very persistent!]

[If the batter does this, the pitcher will slowly get annoyed.]

Derek, who is weak against falling balls, somehow managed to fend off even the powerful splitter and dragged the game out.

Until now, he had finished most of the games in 3 minutes, and the game had progressed quickly.

As the audience’s palms became sweaty in the face of the first protracted game, Derek was finally dealt with a ground ball to the infield by a fastball pressed down on his body, and only then did people exhale.

“Tsk… I’m running out of strength.”

“You dragged the game to 10 pitches. That’s enough.”

“But it’s a bit of a waste. If I had gone out, it would have been a two-run homer.”

“Oh… you’re assuming I’m going to hit a home run?”

“You said you’re in good condition? Then it’s a sure thing.”

Lee Jung-woo, who had a faint smile on his face at Derek, who was sticking out his tongue as if he was sorry, soon entered the batter’s box again.

“This time it’s a strikeout!”

“I saw your swing earlier! Looking at you turning, you could do ballet?”

“Don’t show off again since you can’t hit it anyway, just stay still and get out!”

‘Yeah, I’d be sad if I didn’t hear that.’

Perhaps, if you count the curses he heard today, it was next to O’Donnell. Like all other away stadiums, Fenway Park hated him.

He was a little upset. It wasn’t like he had beaten them up like he had in other places, and he had only recorded one outfield fly, but the audience was like this.

He was a bit annoying in defense, and he was considered the culprit for the Red Sox’s defeat in the previous games.

‘Let’s see… you’re still fine. Very fluffy. You’re not even pretending to sweat..’

Lee Jung-woo slightly licked his lips at the still fluffy, likable face that seemed like it would be a little hot from the protracted game.

He’s been practically throwing with all his might since the start of the game. Doesn’t he get tired?

It was certain that his body structure was different from ordinary people.

‘How will it come this time…’

In the previous at-bat, he only threw three fastballs and ate it raw [meaning he easily handled it]. Of course, there was a subtle psychological warfare in it.

Lee Jung-woo, who had sized up the pitcher, didn’t have a good feeling, so he emptied his head and faced the game.

“Ball.”

The first pitch is a ball. It was a slider going to the outside, but he wouldn’t be testing the waters now. Probably a control miss.

Lee Jung-woo, who gratefully accepted that he had earned a count, slowly watched the pitcher’s ball.

“Strike!”

“Ball!”

“Strike!”

Two and two. Two sliders and a fastball. All were quite high.

There’s no way the zero point wasn’t adjusted, so the pitcher must have intended it.

‘Low high. Or induce a fly ball.’

With only one strike left, there are two options. Lee Jung-woo, who had decided on one of them, glared at the pitcher.

The catcher, nervous because of the tension or because of the perfect performance that had continued for 10 at-bats, doesn’t even talk trash.

Only the sound of swallowing can be heard quietly. No, even this may be the sound that Lee Jung-woo himself is unconsciously making.

[5th pitch, throws!]

A unique, violent windup. It’s not a textbook inverted-W [a specific pitching motion], but he throws the ball fluttering enough to look like a flapping wing.

‘It’s here.’

Clearly looking at the ball that appeared like a dot from the pitcher’s fingertips, he drew a trajectory in his head.

The choice was correct. It’s not enough to be a ball, but it’s still quite low. The pitcher’s choice was safety.

The right outfield is wide, so it’s hell for left-handed hitters, so even if he gets hit with a long hit, it probably won’t be a home run, so he’s aiming for that.

But.

‘Sorry-‘

Ironically, Fenway Park was a better stadium for Lee Jung-woo than he thought. His hitting style was compatible with it.

‘I’m a contact hitter.’

He lifts the low ball. He shot it with a fastball, and it seemed like the right answer. Judging by the swift sound he hears in his ear.

The angle of the batted ball flying off the bat was not at an ideal level. The height was also lower than expected.

And there is a slight sensation in the hand holding the bat. In his case, a really well-hit home run usually doesn’t leave a sensation in his hand. Is it not a home run?

[The batted ball is stretching out! Right fence! Right fence-]

But Lee Jung-woo threw the bat.

‘The answer here is distance. Not height. If the distance is enough, the height can be lower than usual and it will go over enough.’

The low line drive gradually took off, and if it was a fence of moderate height, it would have been a batted ball that hit the fence hard.

But unlike the Green Monster [the nickname for the left field wall in Fenway Park], the slightly lower right fence easily passed the ball over its head.

Silence fell on the excited baseball stadium.

Fenway Park had frustrated countless left-handed hitters, but Lee Jung-woo was a contact hitter.

The reason he changed his batting form during the off-season was to reduce power a little, but to increase the accuracy of his hitting to become a ‘contact hitter’ who hits home runs well.

However, his power was so strangely good that he hit home runs much better than expected. And that fact didn’t seem to change today.

“…”

Christian Gomez frowned for the first time as he watched Lee Jung-woo, who was leisurely circling the bases and pressing down hard on the home base as if to show off.

For some reason, it felt like it would be a much more unpleasant day than he thought.

####

Nothing much changed with Lee Jung-woo’s home run. Instead of 0, 1 was added to the scoreboard, and the momentum of the excited spectators was dampened.

In fact, that’s a lot of change, but the aspect of the game itself was similar to before.

“Strikeout!”

Despite the momentum-breaking home run, Christian Gomez didn’t waver and continued to dominate the batters.

As if to counter that, Alan O’Donnell also strangely charmed the Red Sox batters and quickly progressed the game.

“Wow!”

However, the timing of the second home run in this game was quite coincidental, as O’Donnell finally gave up 1 run in the top of the 6th inning and allowed the score to be tied.

The Red Sox, who had been shaken by the game returning to square one, regained their senses.

[Base on ball! Christian Gomez allows his first walk of the game!]

[Derek Hunt’s persistence finally led to an out.]

[Following Derek, who is walking to first base, is Jung-woo Lee, who hit a home run in the previous at-bat!]

Soon after, in the bottom of the 6th inning. Just as the Red Sox fans were cheering for their ace, who had taken out the batters again in succession and raised two outs.

Derek, who should have been the last batter of this inning in the home fans’ minds, got on base with a walk.

And the atmosphere, which had been good, suddenly changed as the next batter came up.

“Ah… damn it.”

“Don’t be scared! The last time was just luck, luck! It was just a lucky hit!”

“Chris! Strike him out this time!”

In another stadium, it would have been an ordinary (?) double that hit the fence. It was just a lucky hit on a swing. The fans had brainwashed themselves like that.

However, Lee Jung-woo’s hitting sense, who had tasted a home run once in good condition, was not as easy as they expected.

‘My senses are really up.’

The concentration reached its limit to the point where the hairs on his body stood on end.

It’s not to the point where everything looks slow, but just to the point where other things become blurred the moment he stands in the batter’s box, and only the pitcher is clearly visible.

When that is combined with the condition that points to 12 o’clock [meaning he’s in peak condition], one player sometimes becomes an asymmetric force in one game.

That’s what he was now.

‘Throw anything.’

Lee Jung-woo, who knows himself very well, was filled with a strange heat in his eyes as he looked at the pitcher. And Christian Gomez avoided the game for the first time.

Three consecutive balls thrown.

Some fans even sighed at the sight of him giving up a straight walk.

It was as if their ace, their proud hero, was finally succumbing to that cunning guy.

They tried to appease their disappointing feelings by muttering several times that it was a reasonable choice.

But even that wasn’t the case. At least the result that came out wasn’t very reasonable. No, in the first place, that batter himself is an unreasonable guy.

‘Slider, outside. It’s far, but I can hit it.’

The slider was quite powerful even while taking out the ball. No, the pitcher threw it powerfully.

Since it’s hard to get a good result even if you force yourself to hit a ball in this course, it contains the meaning of just being satisfied with a walk.

But as always, Lee Jung-woo didn’t follow the pitcher’s intentions. And the end of the bat, which was shot like a first-class prosecutor’s swordsmanship, properly lifted the ball.

‘It’s done.’

This time too, there was no very clean feeling of a home run. His hand was a little numb. In the first place, the part that was hit is not a sweet spot.

But at least it was enough to create a fast line drive. And as I already explained, if a straight batted ball flying far and a moderate height are combined. The ball goes over the fence more easily than you think.

“You son of a bitch! Why are you doing this to us, you bastard!”

It’s a little different from before.

At that time, the audience was silent because they had lost their words, but now they were just screaming.

But that didn’t change anything. The two-run home run, the ball that went over the fence, bounced and showed off as if to mock the people who were paying attention to him.

The bat that was thrown coolly also received quite a bit of spotlight.

The most shutter sounds were heard when Lee Jung-woo returned to home plate once again.

“I love you, Lee.”

“Yes, yes, I love you too.”

Lee Jung-woo, who lightly ignored Derek, who was always talking about contract extensions and now even making love confessions, reluctantly took a step towards the dugout full of people who had already raised their burly hands and suddenly looked back at the mound.

‘He’s lost his mind.’

In addition to the pitcher, the coach and catcher were on the mound.

It seemed like they were trying to comfort the pitcher or say something.

But the pitcher didn’t seem to hear those words. His face was just blank. It looked like he was biting his lip.

It’s an understandable reaction.

Looking at the pitching, he was also in good condition, but he was hit with two home runs by the same guy and gave up 3 points.

Even if he tries to calm himself down, at least his pride won’t allow it.

‘What can I do? He must have made everyone else like that and come up here. He just has to endure it.’

After looking at the pitcher a little more, Lee Jung-woo moved his steps back towards the dugout.

The game wasn’t over yet to be caught up in emotions. And a more certain victory was needed.

####

Alan O’Donnell went down at the end of the 7th inning. He had given up a home run, but he endured one more inning and somehow didn’t let go of the game.

And Huey Morris, the ace of the lineup, followed up with a solo home run, making the score 3 to 2. But that was it.

[He hit it! A batted ball stretching out! Left fence – hit it! Fair! In the meantime, the 2nd runner is home! The 1st runner is also home! The batter is up to 2nd base! The Braves are getting a little closer to victory!]

In the top of the 8th inning, with runners on 1st and 3rd base with no outs. In his fourth at-bat of the game, Lee Jung-woo hit a long hit that hit the end of the Green Monster, sweeping all the runners and adding 2 RBIs [Runs Batted In].

It was a timely hit that crushed the opponent’s momentum again like the previous home run, and it was a shot that widened the gap even further, but he licked his lips as if he was a little disappointed after stepping on second base.

‘Green Monster, it’s still not easy.’

Even though he pushed it lightly, he felt a strong sensation, so he wondered if it was possible. Unfortunately, it only ended up hitting the fence.

He was a little disappointed with that, but he was satisfied with it because he had widened the gap even further. So Lee Jung-woo refocused his mind.

Soon, he came home on a long hit by Joey, widening the gap to 4 points.

A 4-point lead in the 8th inning.

The Red Sox fans’ expressions gradually hardened in a situation where they were far behind even after putting out their ace.

They tried to encourage the players by singing the cheering song loudly.

But defeat eventually passed through the front door and arrived in front of their eyes.

“Let’s finish it in this inning!”

“Just block it well!”

“We’ll take care of catching everything, so just throw comfortably!”

Bottom of the 9th inning. The score was still a 4-point difference because they couldn’t chase in the bottom of the 8th inning. It was enough points to finish the game, but the Braves didn’t let go of their concentration until the end.

Lee Jung-woo and Derek shouted at the pitcher and encouraged his will. And the people who held hands prayed earnestly.

‘Rollins or Winters are late. I’ll take care of it in my line.’

In the end, the most hated result was made by the most hated guy’s most resentful hand.

Lee Jung-woo, who jumped up like a frog, swung his glove like a dragonfly net and hit the high batted ball.

His hand was a little numb because the power of the batted ball was strong.

But Lee Jung-woo thought that this was not a bad exchange.

[3rd base – caught it, caught it! Lee Jung-woo catches the batted ball and makes three outs! Game set! The Atlanta Braves! At Fenway Park, the sacred ground of the Boston Red Sox! First, they create their third win in the World Series!]

The reward for his slightly numb hand was, in fact, the third game win of the World Series.