A Rookie In The Baseball Team Is Too Good [EN]: Chapter 467

The New Recruit of the Baseball Team is Too Good 467

99 Last Man Standing (6)

‘Professor’ Brett Evans.

‘Natural Disaster’ Vincent Hiyama.

The starting pitchers of both teams, who had each given up 5 runs in the first inning, were back on the mound in the second inning.

It was truly a last man standing situation, and the two players’ resolute determination was heating up Tropicana Field.

At that very moment, Ted Lopez, the president of Lopez Grocery, a food distribution company located in St. Petersburg, was biting his nails in front of the freight elevator at Tropicana Field.

“Damn it, this freaking elevator! Why isn’t it coming down?”

President Ted Lopez was pacing back and forth, unsure of what to do.

When he heard a ‘Wow!’ from the field, he frowned involuntarily.

“Could it be… a change of offense and defense? That means a huge rush of customers in a bit?”

Oh well, nothing else for it.

Just then, he stretched out his hand, which was about the size of a pot lid, and picked up a large sack placed at his feet.

With the sack labeled ‘Tomato Slices’ slung over his shoulder, he began to run up the baseball stadium stairs.

“Ugh, you stupid idiot! Where the heck is your brain…”

Ted Lopez gritted his teeth, taking the stairs two or three at a time.

There was a good reason why he was so anxious and couldn’t wait for the freight elevator.

For a food distributor, it was the worst mistake possible: a delivery accident.

He was supposed to deliver tomato slices to the hamburger shop on the second floor, but it turned out he had delivered paprika slices instead.

When Lopez realized this belatedly, he was utterly dismayed, his face turning pale as he rushed to Tropicana Field.

‘This could mean the end of our deal…’

Frankly, he was prepared for that.

He had heard that Tropicana Field was sold out early that day.

For the hamburger shop, it was an opportunity they couldn’t miss. And he was about to ruin that opportunity with his mistake.

It was a shop that prided itself on premium hamburgers, so how could they not include tomatoes?

‘It must be chaos. Utter chaos.’

The more he thought about it, the darker Ted Lopez’s outlook became.

With the rising popularity of Tropicana Field, the hamburger shop had become Lopez’s biggest customer.

How could he appease the hamburger shop owner’s anger?

Should he offer to supply lettuce for free for a month, or should he offer to pay a reasonable amount of compensation?

If neither of those worked, he was prepared to throw himself at the hamburger shop owner’s feet and beg for forgiveness. Just then-

“Huff, huff, huff… Huh?!”

Ted Lopez arrived at his destination, breathless.

He had arrived at Juno’s Burgers, a well-known restaurant, and he couldn’t help but tilt his head in confusion.

First of all, it wasn’t the time for a change of offense and defense. The game was in the middle of the 4th inning.

But what really perplexed Ted Lopez was the hamburger shop owner’s reaction.

“Oh, Mr. Lopez!!!”

The owner, wearing a white chef’s hat, was waving his hand and smiling brightly.

“No, what brings you here at this hour? The delivery already came earlier. Ah, did you come to watch the baseball game?”

“No, it’s not that…”

What’s going on here?

Ted Lopez placed the sack of tomatoes he had been carrying on his shoulder onto the ground.

“Mr. Owner, I’m really sorry. I forgot to bring the tomato slices today…”

“Tomato slices?!”

“Yes, I thought you wouldn’t be able to do business without them, so I rushed over here… Whew, I’m glad. It looks like you had some in stock?”

“Tomatoes, tomatoes… Ah, that’s right! Tomatoes!!!”

Oh dear!

The hamburger shop owner’s eyes widened.

“That’s right, tomatoes! The tomatoes didn’t come today, did they? I ran out of tomatoes around the bottom of the 2nd inning… Oh dear, I completely forgot about it.”

“Yo, you forgot?”

Lopez blinked.

“No, how could you…? Tomatoes are an essential ingredient in Juno’s Burgers, aren’t they?”

The Juno’s Burger billboard had a large tomato on it.

It was heavily emphasizing that they used fresh tomatoes.

But how could the owner not know that the ingredient was out of stock?

Even if the owner was busy, wouldn’t there have been complaints from the customers?

‘Looking at the overflowing trash cans, it means there were a lot of customers today too…’

Lopez simply tilted his head, unable to understand the situation.

It was at that moment that the hamburger shop owner scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth.

“As the owner, this might sound a bit irresponsible… but it seems like whether or not Juno’s Burgers had tomatoes today wasn’t really important.”

“Not important?”

“Yes, I guess so. Not to me, the owner, not to our employees, and not to the customers who visited the store.”

The shop owner took off his chef’s hat and pointed towards the field.

“The game that’s being played over there today is just too amazing.”

He gave a sheepish smile.

“So amazing that no one could care about a slice of tomato.”

* * *

The hamburger shop owner’s testimony was true.

The 25,000 spectators who visited Tropicana Field that day couldn’t take their eyes off every single play on the field.

Even in the restrooms, they stared intently at the TVs mounted on the walls, and when they went to fill their hungry stomachs, they looked at the monitors next to the menus.

If it was like this in the restrooms and restaurants, how much more so when they were sitting in the stands?

“…”

A game that everyone watched with bated breath.

A game that everyone watched without even blinking.

Of course, the main culprits who created this atmosphere were Brett Evans and Vincent Hiyama, the starting pitchers for both teams that day.

These two men, who didn’t leave the mound even after giving up 5 runs in the first inning, captivated people’s hearts with their incredible pitching.

Having come with their pride on the line, their pitching was so dazzling that it was hard to believe their poor performance in the first inning.

Whoosh- Boom!

It was Vincent Hiyama who overwhelmed the opposing batters with his four-seam fastball, easily exceeding 100 miles per hour.

The fastball, which slammed into the strike zone like a cannonball one moment and like a sledgehammer the next.

When the batters’ bats swung through the air at that incredible speed, the Yankees fans screamed with joy like people on a roller coaster.

Swoosh- Whack!

It was Brett Evans who subdued the opposing batters with his well-honed control and skillful pace adjustment.

He seemed to be persistently attacking the outside corner, but then suddenly threw a 130 km/h [kilometer per hour, approximately 81 mph] changeup with a ‘tap’ feeling.

When the batters, caught off guard, couldn’t even swing their bats and struck out, the Tampa Bay fans raised their arms and cheered.

“Uryaahhh!!”

“That’s it, that’s the one!”

Every time Vincent Hiyama clenched his fists and roared loudly.

Every time Brett Evans patted his glove and nodded.

The sound of applause poured onto the field without reservation, like thunder.

“…”

As the situation turned out like this, the fielders of both teams had dry mouths.

There was no pressure on offense. It was okay to strike out. Even if they were glared at by the manager or coaches, there was little chance of being cursed at by the fans.

Instead, the part they had to pay much more attention to than usual was defense, nothing other than defense.

“Listen up, everyone. If we make a mistake today… we’re all going to be traitors, got it? We might really be hung up in Tropicana Field!”

That was what Richard Stelmajek said to his juniors, but there was probably a similar story in the Yankees camp as well.

“Evans is pitching the game of his life, right? He’s squeezing out all his strength to throw the ball. So let’s… really support him properly today! We can’t lose because of defense! Got it?!”

“Yes, sir!”

“You really got it?!”

“Absolutely!!”

“Okay, let’s tear it up!!!”

Oooooo.

The fielders of both teams ran out to the field with such determined eyes, perhaps with a more determined heart than they would have had in Game 7 of the World Series.

Perhaps that’s why the fielders’ plays felt sharper as the innings progressed.

Thwack!

A ball that flew like a bullet along the foul line was caught by the Yankees’ third baseman, who threw his body with all his might.

Whoosh!

Tampa Bay shortstop Mark Kohoun dug up a ball that had penetrated deep into the infield and made a great play, slamming it into the first baseman’s mitt.

Splash!

Tampa Bay catcher Alex Montero even caught a foul ball while his body was entangled in the infield net.

Thus, following the good pitching of both teams’ starting pitchers, even the fielders’ good defense continued to erupt.

By the time the top of the 6th inning arrived, the atmosphere at Tropicana Field was like being inside a hot furnace.

Wowwww!!!

At this point, it seemed that there was no longer a distinction between the home team and the visiting team.

It was an atmosphere of enjoying baseball itself. It was an atmosphere of being satisfied with the fact that they were seeing the best plays in the world right in front of their eyes.

Now there was only one thing left. Who would be the last one standing? Who would be the winner of this game?

Since the players were getting older, this discussion started first on the Tampa Bay Rays front office side.

“The manager must have a headache right now.”

That was what David Wilson said to Jisub as the first out of the top of the 6th inning was recorded.

“Brett Evans’ pitch count is over 100. We should probably replace him soon…”

“It won’t be easy, though?”

Charles Fleck clicked his tongue.

“I don’t know the players’ psychology very well… but I think Brett is completely fired up right now? Do you think he’ll listen to the manager? Don’t you think so?”

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

Jisub slowly nodded his head.

In fact, this is why the pride battles between starting pitchers are scary.

They are already pitchers with high pride. They are the guys who think they are the best in the world.

When those guys are throwing the ball with their pride on the line, when they are putting everything on the line and pitching with all their might.

At that time, going up to the mound and sending the pitcher down is not an easy task, even for Jisub.

“But today, the manager and the coach… don’t seem to be too worried about the timing of the substitution.”

“Not worried?”

“Yes, fortunately, Evans’ opponent today… is not a ‘typical’ pitcher in many ways, is he?”

When Jisub pointed to the broadcast screen with a faint smile, Charles Fleck also let out an ‘Ah’ sound.

In front of Brett Evans, who had just recorded the second out, the New York Yankees’ second batter was slowly entering the batter’s box.

“Ah, Vincent. Well, that guy is good enough.”