Peaceful Bullpen Life [EN]: Chapter 179

Pro.

What words symbolize a pro?

A physique that can absorb all theories?

A brain that can quickly analyze and navigate any situation?

A mentality that remains steadfast in any circumstance?

Of course, all of these are important. In fact, all of these combined into one word is ‘skill’.

However, besides physique, brain, and mentality, there are still many other elements that can be included in ‘skill’.

One of them is,

“You seem down today?”

“…….”

Emotion.

It may seem related to the word ‘mentality’ at first glance, but ‘mentality’ and ’emotion’ point in slightly different directions.

Mentality is an internal part of the game. The ability to laugh it off even after getting hit with a home run, thinking, ‘The batter did well.’

Emotion is an external part of the game. The ability to play the game without a problem even after breaking up with your girlfriend on the way to work.

“No… it’s not that I’m down…”

“You are. Your face is already a mess, and making that expression just makes you look uglier.”

What a jerk.

When I arrived at the dugout, Seung-joo poked me as always, expressing his sincere concern.

Normally, I would have joked around, saying I’m better looking, you’re incredibly ugly, but,

“Haa…”

I don’t want to react at all right now. I guess you could say I’m just annoyed.

I’m not annoyed or angry at Seung-joo, who’s constantly scratching at my nerves.

As much as the first trait I received from the system was ‘Enlightenment’, I don’t think my emotional control, as well as my mentality, is lacking.

It’s just…….

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m going crazy because I can’t smoke.”

Something is frustrating, something is *makmak* [a Korean word for feeling blocked or stifled], something is sluggish, something is driving me crazy, something is not right, something is annoying, something is stuffy.

“Want one?”

“Hey, don’t talk crazy.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m trying to quit…”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m telling you, I’m serious.”

“Bullshit.”

Is he crazy?

I stared at Seung-joo with that expression, and,

“…Seriously?”

His reaction is quite intense.

“Seriously.”

“How long has it been since you quit smoking?”

“I started yesterday, so today is the second day.”

“Aish, I thought it had been at least a week.”

“Hey, even a day is like this, how would I handle a week?”

“Why don’t you give up?”

“No… I can’t because I promised Min-young…”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Ah, yeah… my girlfriend said it would be good if I quit, but I can’t say I don’t want to.”

“Right, you’d secretly smoke rather than say you don’t want to. So, have you really not smoked at all so far?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re tough.”

Seung-joo said that and moved a chair away from me.

“I was told not to associate with tough guys like you.”

“Is he crazy…”

Everyone has a concept of routine.

Baseball players perform routines every game, every inning, every at-bat, every pitch, so it may seem excessive, but ordinary people all have their own routines.

Don’t you?

Stretching when you wake up in the morning.

Drinking a cup of coffee after lunch to cleanse your palate.

Looking at your phone in bed before going to sleep.

All of these can also be included as a type of routine in a broad sense.

But I can’t stretch when I wake up in the morning, I can’t drink coffee after eating, and I have to go to sleep right away when I lie down in bed.

“Ugh…”

Who wouldn’t feel anxious?

“Hey, you should move around instead.”

“Would that be better?”

“Yeah, why don’t you run around a bit and think about today’s game? How important is today’s game?”

From the perspective of a team that is ahead of the 2nd place Sangsoo Tigers by a considerable margin, the importance of the game in the very late stages of the league is somewhat diminished.

Because our team is likely to be in 1st place in the league anyway.

Nevertheless, there is a clear reason why Seung-joo emphasizes the importance of today’s game.

“I know… we have to be first.”

If we win today, we can secure 1st place in the pennant race with our own hands.

75 wins, 1 draw, 44 losses. 69 wins, 1 draw, 50 losses. And both teams have 6 games left.

If we beat Hanseong Winners at home today, we can make the magic number 0 and confirm our victory.

1 game out of 6?

We’re practically guaranteed to win. It’s like we only have to take one more step. At this point, no one would blame us for taking our time.

“Let’s work hard for one day and relax a bit, okay?”

“I know…”

But people’s minds are so funny.

“Ah, I wish you were just starting today.”

I think that one game should be today’s game.

I want to win today, secure 1st place in the league today, and feel relieved today.

Urgency?

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Damn it, if we win today, just you wait. I’m really only going to target one person.”

“Who?”

“You.”

“Is he crazy?”

No, just human nature.

“It’s a bit disappointing.”

“What, again?”

“Why aren’t I starting on a day like this?”

“You’re not starting… ah.”

“Their starter today is Im Chi-sung.”

“Ah…”

Im Chi-sung, the Dongseong Hornets’ 3rd starter. A tall left-handed three-quarter pitcher who throws a fairly fast fastball, slider, changeup, and sinker.

What? A tall left-handed three-quarter?

If you think of a legendary pitcher from Major League Baseball and a current player who is writing legends, that’s normal.

In short, he’s a nightmare for left-handed batters… which is important, but,

“…Are you okay?”

“What can I do? I have to accept it.”

For Seung-joo, Im Chi-sung is simply ‘the nightmare itself’.

“When was it, last year? You got to bat once by chance.”

“Last year? Wasn’t it the year before last?”

“The year before last?”

“Yeah… ah, that’s right. The year before last. You got to bat once then.”

“I remember. You saw two pitches and came out.”

“Wow… I remember that vividly. Damn, I could see the ball flying right at my head before I even lifted my leg, you know?”

The memory of getting hit in the head with a 151km fastball is not easily erased.

“I’ve never really thought I was weak against left-handers.”

“That’s right. You’re not weak. You’re actually strong.”

In fact, Seung-joo is a left-handed batter who doesn’t have much variation in his left-right split. If you dig into sabermetrics [the empirical analysis of baseball, especially baseball statistics that measure in-game activity], he might even be stronger against left-handers.

“But when I see Im Chi-sung, I think, wow… how did I ever hit that guy’s pitches?”

“Well… you used to hit him well. Chi-sung’s pitches.”

“I just died, completely.”

Of course, Im Chi-sung never intentionally hit Seung-joo in the head. Looking back at the situation at the time, Im Chi-sung was more anxious than anyone else after hitting him.

At the time, Im Chi-sung was a rising star, and Seung-joo was the team’s 3rd hitter with excellent classic stats.

You really hit well, Seung-joo.

But in the 6th inning, with 2 outs and the bases loaded, Im Chi-sung, who had a 0-2 count, put too much *him* [Korean for ‘strength’ or ‘force’] into the final pitch against Seung-joo, who was strong against him.

That *him* is, of course, excessive *him*, and that excessive *him* is one of the biggest culprits of ‘rushing’ for a pitcher.

The next scene… a 151km fastball hits Seung-joo in the back of the head, Seung-joo is carried off, and Im Chi-sung is anxious and *twaejang* [Korean for ‘ejected’].

Fortunately, very fortunately, the test results showed that Seung-joo was fine and he recovered well.

As soon as Seung-joo returned, Im Chi-sung immediately ran over and apologized tearfully, and Seung-joo hugged Im Chi-sung tightly, reassuring him that it was okay.

“…But the subconscious is difficult, you know.”

“Don’t overdo it.”

“What’s there to overdo? I’m off today anyway.”

Seeing him *utda* [Korean for ‘smile’], *eum* [Korean interjection, like ‘well’], he’s the Seung-joo I know.

“Then I’m going to smoke. Want to go together?”

“Is he really crazy?”

“Hey, a friend is being nice, offering me a cigarette, and you’re *yokada* [Korean for ‘cursing’]. Bbangwool is really too much.”

Seeing him *kkeonaeda* [Korean for ‘take out’] a cigarette and *heundeulda* [Korean for ‘shake’ or ‘wave’] it in front of my eyes, I wanted to *jeobeobeorida* [Korean for ‘fold up’ or ‘break’] his *heori* [Korean for ‘waist’] with that cigarette, but,

“He’s really crazy, that’s right.”

I gritted my teeth and got up from my seat.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to run a bit.”

“Okay, try to clear your mind while running.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me if you need a cigarette.”

“…….”

* * *

*Dal-dal-da-rad-rad-ra-dal-da-ra* [onomatopoeia for shaking legs]

“Bbangwool, you’re making me nervous. Just stay still.”

“…….”

*Dal-da-rad-rad-ra-da-rad-ra-da-rad* [onomatopoeia for shaking legs]

“Hey, you crazy bastard.”

“…….”

*Dal-da-rad-rad-ra-dal-da-rad-ra-da-ra* [onomatopoeia for shaking legs]

“Is something wrong with him?”

“He’s trying to quit smoking, *hyung* [Korean for ‘older brother’ or a term of respect for an older male].”

“Why quit smoking all of a sudden?”

“I heard *jesussi* [Korean for ‘sister-in-law,’ referring to his girlfriend] told him to quit?”

“…How long has it been since he quit smoking?”

“I think he said it’s the second day today?”

*Dal-da-rad-ra-dal-da-ra-dal-da-ra-da-ra-dal-da-ra-da-ra-dal-da-rad-rad-ra-dal* [onomatopoeia for shaking legs]

“…But he’s like this?”

“I can honestly understand. I think I’d be like this too if I couldn’t smoke.”

As you can see from Seung-joo and *hyung’s* conversation, I crossed my arms and shook my legs throughout the game.

Anyone would think I’m crazy.

“Stop it, you crazy bastard.”

Ah, I’m crazy.

“Ah… I’m going crazy.”

“Just smoke, why are you doing that? It looks more difficult…”

“Ah, *hyung*. No, no. He seems serious about it this time, so don’t do that.”

“Isn’t it better to just smoke than to go crazy like this?”

“Hey, he’s trying to quit somehow, so leave him alone.”

He’s still helping as a friend.

“Everyone in the world knows he’s crazy even if he doesn’t do this.”

“That’s true.”

“He just looks a little crazier than usual, so you can leave him alone.”

…He’s helping, right?

“Hey, just go to the bullpen and catch.”

“…Now? It’s only the 4th inning?”

“I don’t think the 4th inning is the problem.”

“Yeah, why don’t you listen to *hyung’s* words and stop making everyone else nervous, you socially inept Bbangwool.”

Seeing Seung-joo *utda* [Korean for ‘smile’] after saying something *geunboneomneun* [Korean for ‘groundless’ or ‘baseless’], I really wanted to *ttaerida* [Korean for ‘hit’] him,

“I’ll go and see.”

I didn’t think my condition was very good either, so I decided to follow *hyung’s* words.

“Want to go together? I don’t have anything to do anyway.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Okay.”

I opened the door to the bullpen with Seung-joo attached to my *kkodari* [Korean for ‘tail’ or ‘tag-along’].

“Hello-!”

As soon as I opened it, Geon-yeong *insahada* [Korean for ‘greeted’] to us.

“Hello!”

Seung-joo also *sukida* [Korean for ‘bowed’] his *heori* [Korean for ‘waist’] and *insahada* [Korean for ‘greeted’].

“Hello!!”

As if he couldn’t lose, Geon-yeong *sukida* [Korean for ‘bowed’] his *heori* [Korean for ‘waist’] even deeper.

“Hello!!”

Seung-joo *sukida* [Korean for ‘bowed’] his *heori* [Korean for ‘waist’] as if he was going to *jeol* [Korean for ‘do a deep bow,’ usually in a formal setting].

Stop it, you crazy bastards.

“What brings you here?”

“Ah… Seung-joo and I are going to catch.”

“Suddenly?”

Dong-gyun, who is starting today, *geolchida* [Korean for ‘draped’] a jacket on his shoulder and *ttaenggeurake* [onomatopoeia for wide-eyed] his eyes.

“Um… because we’re bored?”

“Can I watch?”

“Why not?”

By the time the conversation with Dong-gyun ended, Seung-joo had borrowed a glove and ball from the side. He glanced at the ground and threw the ball first.

*Ppak*— [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a glove]

“Something feels sluggish today.”

*Ppak*— [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a glove]

“Yeah… I can feel that everyone is *galgo naon* [Korean idiom for ‘sharpened their knives,’ meaning they are very prepared].”

*Ppak*— [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a glove]

“It seems like they’re putting too much *him* [Korean for ‘strength’ or ‘force’].”

*Ppak*— [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a glove]

“They must be *budam* [Korean for ‘burdened’ or ‘feeling pressure’]. It’s always like that, getting nervous when there’s only one *peojeul* [Konglish for ‘puzzle piece’] left.”

*Ppak*— [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a glove]

“Right, right. Everyone must be like that now.”

Pitcher, catcher, defense.

Everyone is doing well.

Even if they’re only performing at 80% of their ability due to *ginjang* [Korean for ‘tension’ or ‘nervousness’], the 100% *pai* [Konglish for ‘potential’] itself is so *geodae* [Korean for ‘huge’ or ‘immense’] that good performances continue to come out.

The problem is hitting.

It’s like the batters are feeling *budam* [Korean for ‘burdened’ or ‘feeling pressure’] whenever they go to the *taseok* [Korean for ‘batter’s box’],

“*Seuraiiiii, ut!!*” [onomatopoeia for a swing and a miss]

Myeong-jin, who was the *seondu taja* [Korean for ‘lead-off hitter’], struck out on three pitches (*samgu samjin*).

*Ttik*— [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a bat weakly]

“*Mai, maiyo!*” [Konglish for ‘My, my!’]

Seong-hyeon is out on a ground ball to first base (*1ru-su peullai*).

*Peoeong*—! [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a bat]

“*Seuraiiiiiii, ut!*” [onomatopoeia for a swing and a miss]

Heon-hee, who is *chuljeonhada* [Korean for ‘playing’ or ‘appearing’] instead of Seung-joo, also struck out on three pitches (*samgu samjin*) and the inning ends.

“…Jun-hyeok, *gosaenghae-ra* [Korean for ‘work hard’ or ‘good luck’].”

“Yes!”

“Jun-hyeok, *hwaiting*! [Konglish for ‘fighting,’ a term of encouragement]”

“Yeah!”

Jun-hyeok, who received *eungwon* [Korean for ‘cheering’] from me and Seung-joo, *utda* [Korean for ‘smiled’] and left the bullpen without a problem.

*Ppak*— [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a glove]

“Haa… it’s difficult.”

*Ppak*— [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a glove]

“It’s difficult.”

4th inning, 5th inning, 6th inning.

We continued to catch, sat in the bullpen with Seung-joo and *nogari* [Korean slang for chatting idly], and then caught some more.

The time for the three innings to come and go was very fast.

It can also be said that Won-ha quickly *makanaetda* [Korean for ‘blocked’ or ‘prevented’] Dongseong’s attack, but at the same time, it can also be said that Dongseong efficiently *makanaetda* [Korean for ‘blocked’ or ‘prevented’] Won-ha’s attack.

“Han-wool, were you here?”

“Yes? Ah, yes.”

I heard the pitching coach’s voice when I was *jinhaenghada* [Korean for ‘progressing’ or ‘continuing’] the second catchball with Seung-joo.

“Why are you doing catchball already?”

“Ah…”

Because of *geumdanjeungsang* [Korean for ‘withdrawal symptoms’], so that…….

“…I guess?”

…I can’t say that, so I *jeokdanghi dureodaenda* [Korean for ‘make up an excuse’].

“You’re going to go out in the 8th inning.”

“Do I go out even if we don’t score?”

“Yeah. You know the *bunwigi* [Konglish for ‘atmosphere’] is *ssae-han* [Korean slang for ‘ominous’ or ‘chilling’].”

“I know. I think it’ll be a bit… *geollil* [Korean for ‘problematic’ or ‘difficult’] if we don’t win today.”

“Putting *jeomsu* [Korean for ‘score’] aside, I’m going to try not to give any.”

“Ah, yes, yes. I’ll be preparing slowly.”

The coach is standing in one corner of the bullpen, watching the situation on the ground and in the bullpen at the same time.

Now that I have to put the balance on pitching instead of catchball, Seung-joo *ppajida* [Korean for ‘left’ or ‘stepped out’] and Geon-yeong *deureowatda* [Korean for ‘came in’].

Thanks to that, Seung-joo, who lost his job, sat on the bench and *mulkeureomi* [Korean for ‘blankly’ or ‘vacantly’] looked at me.

“Hey.”

“Why.”

“I’m just curious.”

“What is it?”

“You’re in the bullpen, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re the pitcher who goes up when we’re winning, right?”

“That’s right.”

*Heulkkeum* [Korean for ‘glancing’], he looked at the *jeongwangpan* [Korean for ‘scoreboard’], and then,

“But… honestly, you feel it too, right? That you’re going to go up when it’s 0 to 0.”

“Yeah. I have *jjam* [Korean slang for ‘experience’ or ‘seniority’], so I have a *gam* [Korean for ‘feeling’ or ‘intuition’].”

“…What do you think when you go up when it’s *dongjeom* [Korean for ‘tie score’]?”

He asks a pretty *cheolhakjeogin* [Korean for ‘philosophical’] question.

“Um… it’s difficult.”

“Just say anything.”

Going up when it’s *dongjeom* [Korean for ‘tie score’] is…….

“Because you can’t *ttada* [Korean for ‘earn’ or ‘get’] a hold?”

“That’s basically the *maengnak* [Konglish for ‘context’], right? Your ERA is important, but holds are also important from your perspective, right?”

“Yeah. It’s my *keorieo* [Konglish for ‘career’], so it’s important. But it’s too *bicheom* [Korean for ‘miserable’ or ‘pathetic’] if I can’t go up to the mound because I can’t *ttada* [Korean for ‘earn’ or ‘get’] a hold.”

“Not *hansimhan* [Korean for ‘lame’ or ‘pitiful’]?”

“It’s *bicheom* [Korean for ‘miserable’ or ‘pathetic’].”

“Why?”

*Ppak*— [onomatopoeia for the sound of a ball hitting a glove]

I received the ball that Geon-yeong *deonjyeojuneun* [Korean for ‘throwing’], *jamsi meomchwoseoseo* [Korean for ‘stopping for a moment’], and looked at Seung-joo.

“Of course, there may be situations where I can’t go up. If I’m sick or if I’ve been *yeontu* [Korean for ‘pitching in consecutive games’] for several days.”

Seung-joo is also *gamanhi* [Korean for ‘quietly’ or ‘still’] looking at me, wondering what I’m going to say.

“But if I can’t go up to the mound because I’m *maedallyeoseo* [Korean for ‘clinging’] to something *sangjingjeogin* [Korean for ‘symbolic’] like a hold… I feel like that’s the limit. Ah, he can only be used at this time, he’s not very *mideumjikseureopji* [Korean for ‘trustworthy’ or ‘reliable’] at other times, something like that.”

“…….”

Seung-joo *pihaetda* [Korean for ‘avoided’] my *siseon* [Korean for ‘gaze’].

He’s not *pihaetda* [Korean for ‘avoided’] his *siseon* [Korean for ‘gaze’] because he’s *bukkeureopgeona* [Korean for ’embarrassed’], *hal mari eopgeona* [Korean for ‘has nothing to say’], *aechoroun* [Korean for ‘pathetic’], but he looked at the *jeongwangpan* [Korean for ‘scoreboard’] once, and then,

“…Okay.”

*Sung*— and left the bullpen.