Peaceful Bullpen Life [EN]: Chapter 2

※ 2. Familiarity, Falling Just 1 Step Away

I’d been known for my remarkably strong arm since I was young.

Thanks to my flexibility, a somewhat unusual gift from my parents, I also possessed excellent physical attributes crucial for an athlete. After reaching 180cm in my second year of middle school, my current physique stands at 188cm with a weight of 107kg.

More important than physical attributes, especially for a baseball player, was my exceptional Baseball IQ [Baseball Quotient], or baseball intelligence.

Knowing how to react, judge, and move in any situation. It wasn’t just intelligence; it was instinct.

Among these, my fingertip sensitivity, more specialized for a pitcher and without a suitable alternative term, was outstanding. There wasn’t a breaking ball I couldn’t throw.

Upon hearing a rough explanation of how to throw a curveball, a splitter, or even a knuckleball, the ball I threw immediately showed a distinct change in its flight.

The common saying that a typical pitcher practices one pitch for three years to use it in the pros took only three minutes in my case.

Naturally, I was the best among high school pitchers. I proudly entered the pros with the first overall pick in the first round.

Although my velocity was quite slow, there was anticipation that it would naturally increase with professional body management, bulking up, and training upon entering the pros.

But it stopped right there. Exactly there.

My first year as a pro, entering with immense expectations, was a complete disaster. Utterly.

‘It’s the first time; it’s okay since it’s the first year out of high school,’ I told myself.

The second year wasn’t any different. It was even worse. And then, shoulder pain at the end of the season. Surgery. After showing monstrous ‘recovery ability only,’ elbow pain at the end of the third year. Surgery.

Again, after showing unbelievable ‘recovery ability only,’ a line drive to the knee in the last appearance of the fourth year. Another surgery. After showing ridiculous ‘recovery ability only’ again, the fifth year.

Yeah, it’s okay, I might not have a feel for it because of continuous surgeries and rehab. Sixth year, seventh year, eighth year…….

And so began this year, my ninth. FA [Free Agent] rights after the season? Bullshit. Dedication to the team by not exercising those rights? Bullshit.

The velocity that was expected to increase upon entering the pros because of good mechanics remained the same, and my command, worn down by being overworked as a supposedly promising prospect and injuries, fell as low as it could go.

The diverse and reliable breaking balls were a high school-level story. The pros were different.

No matter how good my control was, allowing pinpoint command to where the catcher wanted, a fastball that went ‘thwack’ into the mitt and high school-level breaking balls were useless.

If the pitches entered the zone, they were hit hard, and if they were thrown as bait, the batters just watched the lackluster balls.

Naturally, the party of hits, home runs, and walks was a complete disaster.

Ding―!

[The First Step in Pitching, Control]

– Pitch to where the catcher wants. (5/5)

– Reward ― Four-seam fastball +1

“…….”

The five balls went exactly where bullpen catcher Geon-yeong aimed. For me, with excellent ‘control,’ it was a pretty easy quest.

The familiar sound effect played as the interface updated.

[Player Information]

Name: Kim Han-ul

Age: 28

Years: 9th Year

Position: Pitcher

Season Record: 67 Games, 61.1 Innings, 7.42 ERA, 2 Wins, 11 Losses, 4 Holds, 1 Save, 22 Strikeouts, 31 Walks, 0 Hit by Pitch, WHIP 1.51

[Player Stats]

Control ― Top Tier

Power ― Bottom Tier

Stamina ― Low

Fastball ― 24+1=25

Curveball ― 31

Slider ― 18

Splitter ― 23

Changeup ― 29

Sinker ― 24

Trait ― Detachment

Hmm. Even I can see that my stats urgently need improvement. What’s with that trait, though? What’s ‘Detachment?’

[Detachment: Accepts any situation as it is.]

The explanation of the trait makes my face contort.

Bba bba bba bba―!

Ah, it’s inning change.

“Hyung [older brother/term of endearment for older male friends or colleagues], good luck.”

“Ah, just a moment.”

Perhaps because it was inning change, Geon-yeong, who I expected to leave the bullpen quickly, cheered me on. But…….

“I’ll throw one more.”

“Yes? Ah, okay.”

There isn’t much time because of the inning-ending rule. Normally, I would walk out slowly, but today is different. I can run out. This is more important.

Geon-yeong was even more flustered by the pitcher himself breaking his routine and awkwardly put his mask back on.

Like the first practice throw today, the back of my glove tilted towards the sky. Geon-yeong nodded once, as if understanding, and showed his mitt on the outside middle height of the right-handed batter.

Although there isn’t much time, there’s no need to rush the throw. Even if I break the routine, breaking this form that I’ve repeated for 20 years makes even less sense.

As I raise my left foot, my gaze goes to the mitt.

Huh?

I feel something different in my body. The rotation of my waist, the movement of my wrist, the sensation in my fingertips.

Tick―

The ball didn’t hit the pocket and hit the upper lip of the mitt, going inside. Since a ball that isn’t properly caught can’t stay still in the pocket, it rotated a few times before spitting the ball back out.

Others might see it as a simple catching mistake, but I can definitely tell. I felt it. That my fastball stat went up by 1.

“Hey, Kim Han-ul, what are you doing!”

“Sorry!”

Not coming to the mound, the pitching coach urgently came down to the bullpen to urge me on. Since it’s my fault, I quickly ran towards the mound.

The pitching coach calls me on the way.

“What were you doing that you didn’t come out?”

“Sorry. There was something I wanted to try.”

“What?”

“That…….”

I can’t think of a good excuse. Let’s just make something up.

“I was trying to do something about my fastball power.”

“What did you do?”

“I tried pulling the release point out a bit more.”

“Hmm…….”

Even in this situation, the inning change time continues to pass. But the pitching coach doesn’t care and falls into thought.

“Good, but control comes first. You know?”

“Yes.”

“Good work.”

Even with all the nagging, he’s one of the people who cares about me the most. How could I not know that feeling?

Waaaaaaah―!!

For now, I’ve been playing for the same team for 9 years, but my fame itself isn’t that great. Among the team’s casual fans, I’m recognized as a mediocre pitcher.

Among those who know about the team’s situation, I have a good image.

Dedication to the team! Love! Affection! Sacrifice!

Bullshit.

The content of the comments on the interview that I wouldn’t exercise my FA rights after this season, around the middle of the season.

But sometimes there are fact 폭력배 [fact bullies], and the number of dislikes on that fact 폭력배’s comment made me feel bittersweet.

“What were you doing?”

“No, I was just doing something for a moment.”

“You won’t be able to throw many pitches?”

“Three is enough.”

“Okay, okay.”

The team’s starting catcher, Moon Gyu-hak.

A typical defensive catcher. Calling, catching, blocking, throwing all have skills close to perfect, but hitting is… I might be better than him.

But the league itself has been experiencing a catcher shortage for almost 10 years, and it’s fortunate and worrying that there aren’t many catchers better than Gyu-hak.

Gyu-hak went and sat behind home plate. Giving the signal to throw a curveball like in the bullpen, and the sinker that was given the sign to throw, landed exactly where Gyu-hak aimed. The mitt didn’t move even 1mm.

And in terms of time, this seems to be the last practice throw. Giving the sign to throw a fastball,

Thwack―!

He missed it. He couldn’t catch it.

The catcher’s practice throw is called a second base stolen base prevention practice.

The second baseman catches it, the third baseman catches it, the first baseman catches it, the shortstop catches it and throws it to me. By that time, the batter just enters the batter’s box and the umpire calls play…….

“Ah, sorry.”

Fortunately, it didn’t bounce too far, and I immediately picked up the ball and quickly threw it to second base.

Woah, strong arm. It seems faster than my fastball.

After that, it was the same as always. I touched the ball here and there to check that there was nothing strange and stepped on the pitcher’s plate.

The umpire, confirming that the opposing team’s 8th batter had entered the plate, pointed towards me with his finger and called play, and my eyes went between Gyu-hak’s legs. Sign.

Inside low fastball, outside low fastball, inside high fastball, the sign that came out after shaking three times was an outside low curveball.

I nodded and adjusted my grip. The curveball that flew along my index finger drew a gentle arc and headed towards the mitt that Gyu-hak was holding.

Thwack―!

“…….”

I expected a ‘thwack’ sound, but the result was a well-hit line drive to the third baseman.

Huh.

Just some 8th batter hit my ball. It wasn’t just hitting it but completely destroying it. It wasn’t a mistake, and in my standards, it was a well-broken and properly controlled ball.

It’s fortunate that it went straight to third, but what if the angle of the hit was slightly higher?

“…Ugh.”

It would have been a home run.

Shaking my shoulders at the unnecessary chill, I received the ball that first baseman Gi-seong handed me.

And the 9th batter entered the plate, and I looked at Gyu-hak’s sign again.

Inside high fastball, inside low fastball, and a sinker that falls from the inside to the inside ball, I nodded and wound up again. And.

Thwack―!

“…….”

Another well-hit ball. It was a ball.

The ball zone is the area where you throw not to be hit. In other words, a ball that doesn’t need to be hit.

But as if waiting, he pulled it with all his might and made a fly ball to the left fielder. It’s a left fielder fly on the record, but it was no different from a left fielder liner.

“C, can I ask for a time-out?”

“Time!”

I caught two outs well. Suddenly calling a time-out and coming up to the mound.

“Why?”

“Hyung, why?”

“What is it.”

“Why aren’t you throwing fastballs?”

“What…….”

“Fastballs are good, today.”

“Flattery.”

“No. Really.”

“…….”

Did he feel something too?

“Now it’s number 1. Choi Woo-seok.”

“I know.”

“He might really hit it over.”

“Does it matter if one goes over when we’re going to lose anyway?”

“Hyung!”

“…Okay. Go down.”

Gyu-hak goes back down with a slightly dissatisfied expression. Soon, Choi Woo-seok, the best hitter on the opposing team and a league superstar, enters the plate.

Batting average is .292.

The batting average is somewhat ambiguously good, but the on-base percentage, which far exceeds .400 as the first batter, and the slugging percentage, which far exceeds .500, make him a batter who makes the first batter position pale.

And…….

Smirk―

He smirked at me as he entered the plate. And I smirked back.

The play call dropped, and the first sign was an inside fastball.

Thwack!

“Strike!”

Inside low, accurately placed fastball. The batter went out to hit but flinched and stopped.
The expressions of the catcher and batter 5 seconds ago were completely reversed.

Next is an outside low fastball.

Thwack!

The umpire’s right hand goes up without fail. Judging that it was a ball this time, he just watched without any catching motion and tilted his head.

This time, a fastball to the inside high.

“Heup!”

Thwack!

Whoosh―!

With this much spirit, it probably would have been heard on the relay camera. The fastball, thrown with all my might, was lodged in Gyu-hak’s mitt, and the batter’s bat turned.

More than that, what caught my eye was the message in the opposite, right batter’s box.

Ding-!

[The Flower of the Pitcher, Strikeout!]

– Strike out the batter. (1/1)

– Reward ― Four-seam fastball +1