Genius Pitcher Hides 170Km [EN]: Chapter 328

#327. The Roar of the Veteran

“Chorong, come here. Good girl. Sit here and let’s watch baseball together.”

Min Ye-rin, who couldn’t join the Seattle away game because she was preparing for her comeback as a singer, settled her cherished dog on her lap and focused on Han Su-hyeok’s game on TV.

Following Han Su-hyeok to America without hesitation, setting up a new home in Seattle, being recognized as his girlfriend, and even appearing on a talk show together (though it was a bit of a mess),

Min Ye-rin had become Han Su-hyeok’s acknowledged partner.

However, even for Min Ye-rin, Han Su-hyeok remained a difficult person to truly know.

Perhaps this difficulty stemmed from the fact that both of them had limited dating experience.

“Chorong, doesn’t our *oppa* [Korean term for older brother or boyfriend] look lonely? Huh? You think so too, right?”

Top of the 3rd inning, Seattle’s at-bat.

Han Su-hyeok on TV was preparing to bat with a calm expression.

Han Su-hyeok carried a heavy burden: breaking the record for most home runs, maintaining a .400 batting average, achieving an ERA [Earned Run Average, a measure of pitching performance] in the 0.00 range, and leading the team to the World Series.

When she asked him if it was difficult, Han Su-hyeok replied:

“Not at all, this is nothing.”

Min Ye-rin found that answer deeply saddening.

She suspected Han Su-hyeok was suppressing his most important emotions, and she wondered if it was because he hadn’t found someone he could truly lean on.

Following that thought was a sense of self-reproach, that she hadn’t yet earned his complete trust.

Stroking Chorong’s head on her lap, Min Ye-rin said,

“I… I wish *oppa* would be a little more honest with me. Don’t you think so too?”

She knew.

That Han Su-hyeok was more considerate and sensitive than he appeared.

That he pretended not to be interested in other people’s problems but secretly tried to help anyone he had even a slight connection with.

That he did his best to fulfill the expectations placed on him.

And that he, too, was an ordinary person struggling with pressure and a sense of responsibility.

Han Su-hyeok was simply trying to hide those inner feelings behind an ordinary expression and demeanor.

Min Ye-rin, who considered Han Su-hyeok the most important person in her world, couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

If only he could let go a little, just a little bit.

It would be nice if he could admit when things were hard, and say he was lonely when he felt alone.

That way, he would find some relief.

“Chorong, I think I’m still not good enough. I need to try harder, right?”

“Kkiing.”

As if understanding her owner’s words, Chorong licked her hand affectionately.

Stroking Chorong’s head, Min Ye-rin murmured without realizing it,

“*Oppa*, fighting! [Korean expression of encouragement, like ‘You can do it!’]”

* * *

Seattle’s at-bat in the top of the 3rd inning, leading 1-0 thanks to Ty Johnson’s timely hit and Mike Warren’s excellent pitching. Han Su-hyeok, in his second at-bat, tilted his head and looked around.

He had definitely left her in Seattle, and they had exchanged messages before the game, but just now, he thought he heard Min Ye-rin’s voice.

A voice he knew so well that he could distinguish even the subtlest tones.

Min Ye-rin’s voice, telling him to cheer up.

But there was no way she, who was in Seattle until recently, could be here.

Han Su-hyeok tilted his head again, tapped the batter’s box with his spikes, and turned his gaze toward the pitcher.

Brian Bailey, Boston’s third starter, whom he was facing for the first time today because he was intentionally walked in his first at-bat.

A veteran who won the Cy Young Award [Award for the best pitcher in each league] in 2025 as a member of the Giants, but was traded to Boston after a sudden decline, yet still recognized for his skill.

The types of pitches and their qualities that he mainly threw flashed through Han Su-hyeok’s mind.

A fastball with a slight sinker movement, a changeup that was considerably faster than other pitchers, and an occasional curveball.

In his prime, he dominated the league with just those three pitches, but as he aged, he became a pitcher who outsmarted hitters with control and mind games rather than pure velocity.

He wasn’t a foolish pitcher or lacking in control to the point of walking a leadoff hitter in a situation where they were trailing by one point.

He would probably try to induce a swing with tempting pitches that just barely missed the strike zone.

“Play!”

With the umpire’s call, Brian Bailey began his pitching motion.

*Paang*

“Ball.”

A curveball that almost grazed the outside corner of the strike zone.

Han Su-hyeok, contemplating whether to swing or not, held back, and a ball was called.

With only 10 home runs left to break the single-season record,

Other hitters might be struggling with the pressure to hit a long ball, but Han Su-hyeok showed no signs of that at all.

Han Su-hyeok knew.

That the most important thing for hitting a home run was not impatience but composure.

Baseball records eventually converge to the average.

He had hit 64 home runs in 133 games this season.

Statistically, that’s roughly one home run every two games. That meant if he maintained his current pace, he should be able to hit about 10 home runs in the remaining 29 games.

Of course, he also knew that things in the world don’t always go according to plan.

But it didn’t matter.

He was no longer an aging baseball player worrying about retirement, with injuries all over his body.

What if he failed to achieve the record this season?

Then next season, or the season after that, awaited him.

Han Su-hyeok, having completely shed the burden of records, waited for the pitcher to throw the next ball.

And,

*Swoosh*

*TtaaAAAak!*

A changeup that dropped from the center of the zone to a lower spot came in slightly higher than the catcher’s intended location, barely half a ball higher, and Han Su-hyeok’s bat, sensing that slight difference, swung powerfully.

– Uwaaaaa! Finally! Finally! Here it comes! Here it comes! It keeps flying! Han Su-hyeok’s hit goes to left field, to the left, over, it went over! Han Su-hyeok completely destroys the Green Monster [nickname for the left field wall in Fenway Park] during this three-game series. Season 65! Han Su-hyeok ties Mark McGwire in 1999 for 4th place in single-season home runs!

– Ah! That home run just now… it was unbelievably amazing bat control. Look at the slow motion. The bat that was coming out anticipating a fastball stops for a moment in the middle, right? He recognized it was a changeup. And you see the bat that hesitated for a moment extending straight out? That’s absolutely impossible without tremendous power and skill, ha… I’m really getting choked up. To think I’d see a Korean player hit 65 home runs in the major league.

– Brian Bailey, who gave up the home run, is shaking his head on the mound. He really looks dumbfounded.

– Actually, it was a well-pitched ball. It went in a little higher than the catcher led, but it was a great changeup that you could give 90 out of 100 points. It’s just that Han Su-hyeok hit it too well. It’s okay. Brian Bailey, you can hold your head up high. It’s not your fault.

* * *

If you had to pick just one of the many advantages that a knuckleballer has, it would be that they can throw a lot of pitches without putting much strain on their shoulder.

If the pitching limit for typical pitchers is usually around 100 pitches, a knuckleball pitcher can easily throw 200 pitches if they want to.

The knuckleball is so gentle on the shoulder that there’s a saying that knuckleballers don’t retire because they can’t throw the ball, but because it’s difficult to cover first base when a ground ball is hit to the infield.

That’s why pitchers who can no longer throw fastballs due to shoulder injuries or aging choose the knuckleball.

Boston, who gave up three runs due to Ty Johnson’s timely hit in the first inning and Han Su-hyeok’s home run in the third inning, put all available bullpen pitchers on the mound with the determination to somehow make it a winning series.

Boston’s efforts were ultimately successful.

They prevented Seattle’s offense from the 4th to the 9th inning from scoring any additional runs.

The only problem was that Mike Warren, who was guarding Seattle’s mound today, was continuing his insane good pitching.

The 36-year-old knuckleballer, who had thrown 125 pitches by the bottom of the 8th inning and had not given up a single run, was putting on a great performance.

Manager Benjamin, who had decided not to make the veteran closer Adam Murphy pitch in consecutive games unless it was absolutely necessary, decided to entrust the game to Mike.

“Mike, I want you to finish today’s game. I won’t blame you even if you give up a grand slam, so just pitch comfortably.”

“Thank you, boss.”

The veteran, who was kicked out of the Dodgers and despaired that he would never be able to return to his glorious past, gritted his teeth to not miss the chance for a shutout that had come his way for the first time in two years.

A defensive substitution was brought in to strengthen the defense, and a left-handed hitter entered as a pinch hitter in place of the number 8 hitter, who had struck out in all three of his previous at-bats.

*Ttaak!*

“Foul!”

A close battle that went to a full count ensued, and Mike Warren, who had thrown over 130 pitches but still had energy in his shoulder, threw his final pitch.

The batter’s bat swung through the air at an ultra-slow knuckleball of only 60 miles per hour, even slower than the knuckleball he had thrown earlier.

“Swing! Out!”

“Damn it! Get on first base somehow! It’s not over yet!”

“You can hit it! Why can’t you hit a ball like that!”

As Boston fans, facing their team’s defeat, screamed like crazy, the number 9 hitter stepped into the batter’s box.

He, who had drawn a walk in his first at-bat, calmly watched Mike’s knuckleball this time as well.

And,

*Ttaak!*

A slightly mis-hit ball evaded the second baseman’s glove and rolled in front of the right fielder.

With one out and a runner on first, everyone in the stadium’s eyes turned toward the Seattle dugout, but there was no movement there.

The pitchers in the bullpen had already withdrawn as well.

Manager Benjamin’s intention was clear.

That the pitcher standing on the mound, in a situation where the closer Adam Murphy could not pitch in consecutive games, was the most reliable pitcher in Seattle at this point, that was the message.

Mike Warren, who was sweating profusely from his forehead, seemed to read the manager’s intention and gave a faint smile.

But,

The game is not over yet.

The final hurdle has arrived.

Boston’s table setters [the first hitters in the batting order, whose job is to get on base], among the strongest in the league,

Number 1, Jack Rogers, and number 2, Matt Keph, got consecutive walks, and in an instant, there was one out and the bases were loaded.

The Seattle pitchers who had withdrawn returned to the bullpen, and Boston Red Sox’s star hitter Jerry Wagner stepped into the batter’s box.

“I always feel like my lifespan is shortened by 10 years every time a moment like this comes. Don’t you think so, Bruce?”

“…….”

There was no response from the Seattle catcher, who had been playfully responding to his words until the previous at-bat.

Jerry Wagner, judging that there was nothing to gain from provoking him further, licked his lips and took his batting stance.

In today’s game, Mike Warren had relentlessly tormented Jerry Wagner.

Just when he thought it was a knuckleball, a fastball came flying, and when he timed his swing to the fastball, a changeup came flying in.

While he only threw knuckleballs to other hitters, he used all three pitches against Jerry.

Anyway, that’s all in the past.

A one-out, bases-loaded chance in a situation where they are trailing by three points.

If they can hit something big, they can tie the game or even turn it around in one fell swoop.

Jerry Wagner thought.

That he absolutely can’t throw only fastballs here.

That a pitcher in a bases-loaded crisis will eventually have to pull out his main weapon.

*Kkuuuk*

Jerry Wagner’s body, reading his owner’s intention, naturally began to prepare for the knuckleball.

Even a slight rotation can turn a knuckleball into an easy hit.

A moment’s mistake, or carelessness.

That’s exactly what Jerry Wagner is aiming for right now.

“Play!”

It’s a situation where they could potentially have the game turned around, but Mike Warren’s expression on the mound was calm.

After exchanging signs for a long time, Mike Warren threw the first ball to deal with Jerry Wagner.

The ball he chose was the 70-mile knuckleball, the one he could trust the most in a moment of crisis, the one that gave him another chance when he was contemplating retirement.

In a tense moment where everything depended on one ball,

That was the only ball Mike could trust.

But,

He realized it the moment he threw it.

That the slight force applied to the tip of his finger had put a spin on the ball.

“Damn it!”

*Ttaaak!*

A cheerful sound of batting echoed through Fenway Park along with Mike’s urgent voice.

A huge hit flying toward the massive wall that is 37 feet (11.3m) high, even the most difficult place to defend on that wall, deep along the foul line.

The worst-case scenario of a bases-clearing double that would tie the game was drawn in the minds of the Seattle players, but then,

“Ueo-eok!”

“What? When did he get all the way over there?”

“No! You son of a bitch!”

Han Su-hyeok, who had started running toward the line as soon as he heard the sound of the hit, was running at a furious pace toward the place where the ball was falling.

5 meters, 3 meters, and 1 meter,

The distance to the ball narrowed in an instant,

Han Su-hyeok caught the ball, which would have been a double 100 times out of 100, with a diving catch.

“Go!”

At that moment, the 3rd base coach, who was wondering whether to continue the bases-loaded chance and entrust everything to the 4th hitter, or to follow the natural order and score one point first and then trust the next hitters, sent a signal to the runner to start.

*Tatat*

The Boston runner, who quickly returned to 3rd base, started toward home as soon as he confirmed that the ball was in Han Su-hyeok’s glove.

But that was the worst decision Boston made that day.

Han Su-hyeok, who had made a diving catch to catch the ball, rolled once on the ground to reduce his speed and then jumped up.

Near the foul line, only about 3 meters away from the fence,

Han Su-hyeok’s throw from there flew toward home plate at tremendous speed.

*Swoosh*

*Paang!*

*Tteok*

“He’s out!”

“No, he’s safe! That’s gotta be safe!”

The umpire, who hesitated for a long time whether the runner’s foot came first or the tag came first,

finally opened his mouth.

“Out!”

“You son of a bitch! That’s out?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I’m gonna kill you!”

The Boston manager jumped up from his seat and requested a VR review. And about 30 seconds later, the umpire, who received the results from the review room, shouted in a loud voice.

“Out! Game set!”

“Aaaagh! No! You sons of bitches!”

“You damn monster! You’re calling that out?”

“Damn you, die! Go die!”

Trash flew from all directions, and Jerry Wagner and the rest of the Boston players, who had wasted the one-out, bases-loaded chance in vain, lowered their heads and returned to the dugout.

And,

Han Su-hyeok, who created this situation,

Not only did he retrieve a double-worthy hit that was perfectly placed, but he also caught the tagging-up runner, approached Mike with light steps.

“Congratulations on your first shutout of the season, Mike.”

“…Damn it.”

The eyes of the thirty-six-year-old veteran, who felt alive for the first time in a long time, were moist, but no one mentioned that fact.

Mike Warren, who had been standing on the mound silently for a long time, roared powerfully into the air.

“Uwaaaaa!”