Genius Pitcher Hides 170Km [EN]: Chapter 84

#83. That Kind of Fighting Spirit

– Greetings, baseball fans. Can you hear the sound signaling the start of early summer? Here, braving the heat, are 18 warriors throwing their all into the game for their team’s advancement to the fall baseball season. I am announcer Lee Cheol-mo, here to broadcast the first game between the home team Seoul Warriors and the visiting team Daejeon Falcons. Beside me is commentator Go Dong-sik.

The number of people involved in broadcasting a single professional baseball game reaches dozens.

From the staff in charge of the “hyeonjang” [on-site operations], such as cameras and sound, to the recorders who step back to handle various data and backups, and even the operations team staff who accompany to coordinate with the home team.

However, the most noticeable among them are the announcer and commentator, who are the faces of the broadcast to the viewers.

Unlike contract commentators who have to renew their contracts on a short-term or annual basis, the announcer is the vanguard of this broadcast team.

In other words, the workhorse.

They have to broadcast the real-time game without missing a thing, insert appropriate comments to keep the microphone from going silent, and most importantly…

– Hello, this is Go Dong-sik. Han Su-hyeok showed tremendous strength against Ryu Han-gyeol in the last game, and it will be interesting to see how great he performs in today’s game as well.

The announcer’s job also includes controlling the commentator, who makes comments that would make anyone doubt their neutrality from the very first remark.

When Lee Cheol-mo was first assigned to broadcast with Go Dong-sik, he felt dizzy.

He knew that this guy was a Warriors player and that he was someone who could freely talk on the streets—no, on internet personal broadcasts, but…

He couldn’t come to his senses from the constant praise for Han Su-hyeok that was spewing out throughout the broadcast.

During the break after the bottom of the 5th inning, his heart pounded when the direct line to the announcer’s office at headquarters rang.

He expected a scolding from a senior announcer who was monitoring the game broadcast.

‘What if they tell me to hang my head in shame again like last time? I’m almost forty.’

He answered the phone with all sorts of thoughts running through his head.

However, the story he heard over the receiver was not the kind he had imagined.

– Good, the reaction is good. That guy can’t go too far, but keep that atmosphere going while adjusting the level.

‘The reaction is good? This is good?’

– Yes, Han Su-hyeok is such a hot topic that the viewers like it. The director is applauding and making a fuss, so go a little further. But don’t go too far. Controlling that is your mission today.

Viewers like this, which is more like a personal broadcast praising Han Su-hyeok than a broadcast commentary.

Even though it’s 2027, this isn’t the baseball broadcast he knew.

Lee Cheol-mo had no other choice, even with all sorts of thoughts running through his head.

He would agree when Go Dong-sik made a decent point, and when he tried to cross the line, he would quickly change the subject or call for a commercial.

After working together like that a few times, they were named the most anticipated professional baseball broadcast duo of 2027.

The world seems to be getting stranger and stranger.

Lee Cheol-mo barely pushed away the random thoughts that kept popping up and grabbed the microphone again.

– Yes, commentator. Han Su-hyeok’s performance is certainly important, but the Falcons players also seem to have a considerable determination for today’s game. All the players have shaved their heads and pulled up their socks. It’s like watching high school baseball players… Their fighting spirit looks amazing?

– That’s all show… Ah, I’m sorry. It’s all for show. They cut their hair short and pull their socks up to their knees… It looks like they’re full of fighting spirit, right? But does that suddenly make them better at baseball? Then would all the best players in the world’s top leagues be bald and wearing “farmer fashion” [high socks and a simple, rustic look]?

He seemed to be crossing the line a bit, but the announcer decided to wait and see what Go Dong-sik would say next.

– So, you have a different opinion?

– Of course. Those players are all individual business owners, so to speak. They sign contracts with the team from February 1st to November 30th every year and play as professionals. It’s a business relationship where they become strangers as soon as the contract is terminated.

– That’s true.

– Whether those players shaved their heads and pulled up their socks on the team’s orders or the veterans’ orders, someone will be unhappy. Why do I have to shave my head? I was supposed to go on a blind date this weekend? Ah, I can’t shave my head because I look empty-headed, etc., etc.

– That’s not entirely wrong.

The announcer was unknowingly drawn into Go Dong-sik’s pace.

The real-time broadcast chat window was filled with hair loss “deurip” [jokes], such as who among the Daejeon players seems to have less hair these days.

– So, what I’m saying is this. It’s already been 46 years since our professional baseball league was founded. It’s good to emphasize mental strength to the players, but to be honest, the team should give high salaries to good players and boldly discard bad players, and that’s how they should run the team. Don’t act like elementary school teachers.

– I understand what you mean. Many viewers are commenting that it makes sense.

– Yes, so what I want to say last is that Han Su-hyeok, the best of those good players, should get a really drastic salary increase after this season…

– As we speak, the game has started with the Falcons’ first attack. First batter, third baseman Kim Se-jun, steps up to the plate.

* * *

As I said before, I don’t think that professional baseball players shaving their heads and wearing farmer fashion helps their performance.

But if you ask if it doesn’t affect the game at all, that’s not necessarily true.

Since they’ve already shaved their heads, they have to show something. Now that they’ve taken a step forward, that is.

For example, something like this.

Thwack!

“Ugh!”

Our team’s starting pitcher, Brooks Parker, who usually enjoys inside pitches, hit Daejeon’s leadoff hitter Kim Se-jun’s elbow with his first pitch.

Honestly, it wasn’t meant to be a hit-by-pitch, but it happened because Kim Se-jun was so close to the plate and made almost no effort to avoid the ball.

When the umpire declared a hit-by-pitched ball, manager Lee Dae-jun immediately kicked the bench and ran out.

“He didn’t even try to avoid it?”

“Please step back. It’s my judgment.”

“Haa, I’m going crazy. Really, you’re going to do it this way?”

Lee Dae-jun stepped back at that point, as the manager could be ejected from the first inning.

He also knows why the umpires are doing that. It’s still the reality of baseball in this country that not avoiding a ball flying inside when close to the plate is called guts.

The umpires also have that mindset, and considering the determination of the Daejeon players in today’s game and the influence of the Falcons’ owner on the baseball world, they decided to turn a blind eye to that level of play.

There’s no choice. Think about countermeasures later and just “matchwo” [deal with it] today.

“Tell Brooks to be careful with inside pitches.”

“Yes, boss.”

Falcons’ Kim Se-jun, who was hit in the elbow, frowned and headed to first base.

The Daejeon fans in the visiting seats applauded and cheered, but well…

Do they even know that Kim Se-jun, one of the few national representatives among the Daejeon fielders, was almost injured just now? No matter how much protection there is, how dangerous is that area.

“Brooks, calm down. There’s no need to get excited.”

“Damn it, thanks.”

I deliberately said a few words because Brooks seemed a little excited.

From his point of view, he wouldn’t understand why the Daejeon players were deliberately sticking out their elbows and why the umpire didn’t judge it as intentional.

But whatever the case, the pitcher must maintain composure. Especially players like Brooks who make a living with control and mind games.

That’s how the situation of “musa” [no out] runner on first base was created.

Daejeon’s second batter stepped up to the plate, and Kim Se-jun, who was on first base, started to harass the pitcher by constantly pretending to start a steal.

Kim Se-jun, who can hit close to 30% every year, steal more than 20 bases, and hit double-digit home runs, is a batter who is often named to the national team.

When he decided to concentrate on harassing the pitcher, Brooks’ control started to have some problems.

“Ball.”

Two balls that should have come into the zone went outside, making the ball count “tu bol” [two balls], no strike.

The option of stealing by the first base runner came to everyone’s mind.

However, our bench chose to compete as is instead of taking the ball out. The judgment was that if we pitched out here and it became three balls, the situation would become even more complicated.

Brooks’ main weapon, the sinker, flew towards the batter’s body.

At that moment, the first base runner started, and the batter started to swing vigorously.

Daejeon’s choice was a run and hit.

But luck was not on their side. The first base runner lost his balance slightly as he started, and the strong ground ball hit the bat too accurately and flew towards me.

The moment I caught the ball and tried to step on second base.

Chwaaak!

Kim Se-jun, the first base runner, sensed that it was too late and slid in, tackling my ankle from far away from the base.

A “byeonsik” [unorthodox] play to save even the batter-runner in a situation where an out is certain in terms of timing, or more precisely, a dirty play that targets a “dongeopja” [fellow professional]’s ankle.

The moment I saw that, my heart suddenly turned cold.

Even the very slight sympathy I had felt when I saw the short hair of the Daejeon players before the game disappeared cleanly.

I gave up covering the base and instead took a step forward and slammed the runner’s head with the glove containing the ball.

Thwack!

“Ah!”

“Out!”

My tag was faster than his foot touching the base. Without even needing to confirm that, I took the ball out of the glove and threw it to first base.

Daejeon’s second batter, who hit the ground ball and was sprinting to first base, even attempted a headfirst slide, but the result was another out.

“Out!”

“Why is that out!”

This time, the Daejeon bench jumped out and immediately requested a video review.

Kim Se-jun, who was hit in the face with my glove, lay there for a long time before getting up and striding towards me.

“Damn it, if you’re good at baseball, there’s no “seonbae” [senior] or “hubae” [junior], huh?”

“I don’t need “seonbae” who target “hubae’s” ankles.”

“What, you little…?”

As I faced Kim Se-jun next to second base, players from both teams rushed in.

My teammates and coaches, worried that I might get ejected for punching again, ran over with pale faces and pulled me back.

It doesn’t matter. I’m not crazy enough to punch someone over something like this.

Rather, I just wanted to beat those guys to a pulp. Not with fists, but with baseball.

I wanted to really show those crazy people who believe that what they’re doing is not a foul but “jeongsinlyeok” [mental fortitude], and that targeting the ankles of opposing team players is “tuji” [fighting spirit], what baseball is really about.

“Seong-oh “hyungnim” [older brother/respected senior], I’m not excited. You can let go.”

“Huh? Really? Su-hyeok, really?”

“Yes, I’m not crazy and I don’t just fight. Rather, I think you should stop Deok-su “seonbae” over there. He looks a little strange.”

“Deok-su? Where? It’s true? Hey! Deok-su! No! You can’t plant “goguma” [sweet potatoes – a Korean slang for burying something, in this case, burying the ball] on the mound again!”

Kim Se-jun, who had “geolda sibe” [picked a fight] with me, spat out curses and returned to the dugout, and as I returned to my defensive position with an indifferent expression, the atmosphere on the heated ground quickly cooled down.

Even Min Ye-rin, who would normally be screaming to kill them all, seemed to have noticed the atmosphere and was looking at me with worried eyes.

Ssibal [Korean curse word, equivalent to ‘fuck’].

I really felt dirty.

I don’t even know who the target is.

The owner of the team who considers the baseball team his property and emphasizes “tuhon” [fighting spirit] to the players?

Middle managers who send the owner’s intentions down without filtering and “apbak” [pressuring] the players?

Or the Daejeon players who are “gildeulyeojin” [domesticated/trained] to the point where they don’t realize that what they’re doing is a cowardly foul?

I don’t know.

What is certain is that I want to completely beat those guys to a pulp and let them know that such “tuhon” that guarantees the safety of other team players doesn’t work in this baseball world.

At that moment, I started to focus on the game more seriously than ever since “hoegwi” [regression/reincarnation].