#222. 172㎞
[Early Season Surge: Seattle Mariners Lead American League West with 4 Wins, 1 Loss!]
[Tyler Johnson and Han Su-hyeok’s Addition Greatly Strengthens Batting, and Defense Resolves Anxiety]
[Han Su-hyeok Records Three Home Runs in 3 Games, Now Only Adaptation to the Big League Mound Remains]
[Mariners Win 2 Straight Against Angels, Han Su-hyeok Announced as Starter for 3rd Game]
“Just pitch comfortably, friend, no need to feel pressured. The season has only just begun anyway. Um, speaking of which, can I ask you something? Is now a good time?”
*Another* guy has started sticking to me like glue, strangely enough.
The locker room before my first major league start, or rather, my second debut as a starter.
Following center fielder Derek, who has been circling me for a while now, shortstop Josh Oliver keeps trying to act friendly and talk to me.
Based on age, they’re a few years older than me, but to my eyes, they just look like rookies.
“You guys, that’s enough, back off. What are you doing to today’s starting pitcher?”
“Ryan, it’s not that……”
Ryan, who was the undisputed leader of the team before Tyler Johnson joined, born and raised here in Seattle and eventually rising to become the Mariners’ ace, glared at the two.
To be honest, the relationship between Ryan Tebeau and me is still awkward, I’d say.
From his perspective, he probably still remembers what happened to him at the last WBC [World Baseball Classic, an international baseball tournament], and I didn’t really need to act friendly with him.
It’s only natural that it’s awkward.
If he ever approaches me first, I won’t push him away, but I don’t think I’ll be the one to try and become friends first.
The choice is entirely up to Ryan, his decision.
“Go back. If you have something to say, do it after the game.”
“Okay, got it.”
Pitchers are sensitive, selfish, and individualistic.
Especially starting pitchers.
That’s why the locker room leader is usually a hitter.
But until last season, Seattle, filled with youngsters, didn’t have a single hitter who could take on that leadership role.
Skill, age, personality, tradition, responsibility as a leader.
In the end, Ryan, who was the undisputed presence in the team in every aspect, accepted the role of locker room leader, and most of the players acknowledged his position.
Ryan, having sorted things out, gave me a quick wink and returned to his seat.
He seemed to be considerate of me, as I was making my first debut as a big league pitcher…….
I appreciate it, but it wasn’t really necessary.
I’ve been playing baseball for too long to get nervous about something like this.
* * *
“You’ve definitely learned how to use PitchCom [a device allowing catchers to digitally signal pitch types to the pitcher], right?”
“Of course.”
“Um, but the pitch types… 9… you’re not going to use all of them, are you?”
“Let’s just set them up for now. I’ll decide whether to throw them or not later.”
“Hmm… even so… Okay, I got it for now. Let’s get ready.”
Bruce Matthews, the catcher who will be working with me today, looked at me with a dubious expression.
The black terminal attached to his leg guard was particularly noticeable.
If there’s one major difference between Major League Baseball and the KBO League [Korean Baseball Organization] as of 2030, it’s this PitchCom.
As the popularity of professional baseball, the national sport of the United States, continued to decline, the league office took drastic measures.
They determined that the reasons for the decline in baseball’s popularity were the increasingly long game times, the static atmosphere, and unsportsmanlike behavior.
Several regulations and systems were introduced to solve these problems, and PitchCom was one of them.
There were two reasons why this device, which some considered ridiculous, was introduced onto the field, where the use of any electronic devices had been prohibited.
The biggest reason was to prevent sign stealing, which was openly practiced in the big leagues.
It’s an era where cameras installed in every corner of the baseball field and AI connected to them track and analyze the movements of players and the ball.
If the home team is determined, stealing signs between the catcher and pitcher is a piece of cake.
Of course, unlike the KBO, which fundamentally prohibits sign stealing, sign stealing itself is not against the rules in Major League Baseball. That is, if a runner on second base steals the catcher’s sign and conveys it to the batter, that alone is not a violation of the rules.
The problem is that in modern baseball, almost all sign stealing is done using electronic devices. And, of course, using such electronic devices for sign stealing was a clear violation of the rules.
As such violations continued, each team in the big leagues had no choice but to make their signs doubly or triply complex, and conveying fake signs and real signs had a negative impact on game time.
PitchCom was designed to solve all these problems at once.
“I don’t think so. You said you don’t use PitchCom in your league? I’m uneasy, let’s check one more time.”
“Bruce.”
“Um?”
“Don’t worry, just go get ready to catch. I’ve mastered it perfectly.”
“Hmm… this is…”
PitchCom is, simply put, a communication system consisting of a terminal worn by the catcher and several receivers that can audibly transmit the content sent from there.
When the catcher selects and enters the pitch type and location on the terminal, it is converted into voice and transmitted to the pitcher and fielders wearing the transmitters.
The pitcher throws the ball according to the instructions, and the fielders take their defensive positions.
It was a system that could perfectly protect against sign stealing and drastically reduce communication time between the catcher, pitcher, and fielders.
“Okay, then I’ll trust you for now. Tell me immediately if something goes wrong.”
The catcher still had a dubious look on his face.
It’s only natural.
I’m making my big league debut, and I *used* to play in a league without PitchCom, so he doesn’t trust me.
But it’s unnecessary worry.
In my past life, I was one of the pitchers who benefited the most from PitchCom.
PitchCom gave wings to me, who enjoyed speeding up the game without giving the batter a chance to breathe.
In fact, what I missed the most when playing in the KBO was the absence of this PitchCom.
Whoosh
Thwack
After the practice pitches were over, and the status of the transceivers was checked,
“Play!”
The umpire’s signal to start the game came, and finally, my second big league pitching debut began.
* * *
Bruce Matthews, who has been in charge of the Seattle Mariners’ home plate for four years and playing a central role in the bottom of the batting order, thought.
‘I should expect to give up a run or two.’
He had seen enough videos of how great pitcher Han Su-hyeok had performed in the past two international competitions and what kind of pitcher he was in the KBO.
But he was one of the more conservative Americans, and he didn’t trust anything he hadn’t seen with his own eyes.
Han Su-hyeok, who hadn’t pitched properly during spring training, only pitched 1 inning in the exhibition game.
Of course, it’s not that he didn’t practice pitching.
However, the problem was that he was focused on private practice with a personal trainer and an exclusive bullpen catcher to adjust his balance as his weight changed from moment to moment.
In conclusion, Bruce Matthews is the team’s starting catcher, but he has barely caught Han Su-hyeok’s pitches.
The bullpen catcher, who was in charge of Han Su-hyeok throughout spring training instead of him, said this.
‘The world will be surprised. Damn it, I was going to quit this year, but I’ll have to do it a little longer.’
He was quite old and would grumble about quitting the bullpen catcher job and going back to his hometown to open a bar whenever he had a chance.
So he didn’t pay much attention to his words.
He thought it was just a routine greeting for a new pitcher.
He assumed it was just the boasting of a drunkard.
But,
‘Inside low fastball.’
The sign is transmitted to the pitcher through PitchCom, and the pitcher nods after hearing it,
Finally, Han Su-hyeok began his windup.
At that moment, his body trembled without him even realizing it.
It was just a preparatory stance to throw the ball.
But just the start of that motion gave him a feeling.
An overwhelming sense of intimidation that he had never felt before, not even from Ryan Tebeau, the ace of this team, came from Han Su-hyeok.
Thwack
The white ball was fired from the pitcher’s fingertips.
There was no need to move the catcher’s mitt.
The ball, which flew like a bullet toward the lowest inside location he had initially intended, went straight into the mitt.
Thwaaaaaack!
“Strike!”
He felt a thrill all over his body.
Aside from the speed, it was insane control.
All he did was give the sign and bring the catcher’s mitt there.
It was a ball that didn’t require framing or even moving the mitt.
Bruce stared blankly at the scoreboard.
There, the unbelievable number of 107 miles was clearly engraved.
“Wooooaaaaah!”
“107! 107! Crazy! It’s 107 miles!”
It was the moment when the major league’s highest speed record, which had not been broken for the past 20 years, was broken.
* * *
“172㎞/h! 172㎞/! Wooaaaaah! Viewers in Korea, please rejoice with us! Here, Han Su-hyeok easily surpasses the previous highest speed of 170, reaching 172㎞/h, a new world record! Han Su-hyeok! Han Su-hyeoooooook!”
Seeing Go Dong-sik, foaming at the mouth and with his eyes rolling back in his head, chanting Han Su-hyeok’s name, the announcer thought.
You’d think Han Su-hyeok had saved the country.
‘Hmm.’
Come to think of it, he *had* saved the country at the WBC and the Olympics.
The announcer, nodding without realizing it, accepted Go Dong-sik’s comment.
“Amazing! As we passed through the era of the speed revolution, the number of pitchers throwing 100 miles continued to increase, but it was still hard to find a pitcher who broke the 106-mile, or 170㎞/h, barrier. Han Su-hyeok, who recorded 170㎞/h in the KBO, ranking second in the world for the highest speed of all time, has finally surpassed the first-place record of 170.3㎞/h, throwing 172㎞/h and becoming the pitcher who throws the fastest ball in the world.”
“Wooooaaaaah!”
Looking at Go Dong-sik, who was so excited that he didn’t know if he was a commentator or a spectator, and who seemed impossible to talk to in this state, the announcer thought.
The reason she was able to prepare such detailed data was all thanks to Han Su-hyeok.
In a locker room interview before today’s game, Han Su-hyeok said.
‘Commissioner, announcer, do you know about the world’s highest speed record?’
‘The highest speed? Of course, I know. Um, Han Su-hyeok is second with 170㎞/h… and the first place is… 170…….’
‘It’s 170.3㎞/h. Recorded in 2010.’
‘Ah, yes, that’s right. That’s right. But why are you asking that all of a sudden?’
‘Um, just because. I just thought of it. Anyway, just in case, please double-check that record.’
Thinking about it now, he was giving them a hint.
It was as good as declaring that he would break the record himself today.
“Now that it’s come to this! Let’s go for 110 miles!”
Listening to the buzzword that had completely gone out of fashion, which was said to have been used when Korea was swept up in the coin craze, the announcer thought.
At first, she had no choice but to start learning baseball in order to do the broadcast, but now she really felt like she couldn’t live without baseball, or rather, without Han Su-hyeok.