Peaceful Bullpen Life [EN]: Chapter 16

If I were to describe my current mood, it would be like a lukewarm latte – a feeling that Samjin [a fictional baseball team] lacks the mental fortitude or guts to truly succeed.

How many young players, due to that kind of defeatist mentality being instilled, take their frustration from striking out and lash out elsewhere, causing trouble? It’s a vicious cycle.

But in modern baseball, strikeouts are no longer the dreaded outcome they once were.

Taxes. That’s about the level of dread they inspire.

It’s nice if you can legally minimize them, but you can’t avoid them altogether – that’s the general perception.

Thanks to this shift in perspective, pitchers have also become relatively comfortable with strikeouts. Back in the day, they’d do anything to avoid one, but they now benefit from the current atmosphere where it’s not seen as such a monumental failure.

From a pitcher’s perspective, the path to getting an out without the ball being put in play has widened considerably.

And in that kind of atmosphere, I achieved the glorious feat of 3 strikeouts in 9 pitches in one inning at the All-Star Game, a stage where every baseball fan in the country is glued to their screens.

I became one of the protagonists of a record rarer than a cycle [hitting a single, double, triple, and home run in the same game] or a no-hitter, something only about 6 people have accomplished in the roughly 35-year history of the KBO [Korean Baseball Organization]. Me. I actually did that.

But that cheer was shorter-lived than I anticipated, all thanks to Park Hae-jin hitting four consecutive home runs.

As if three solo home runs in the 1st, 4th, and 7th innings weren’t enough, he capped it off with a grand slam [a home run with the bases loaded] in the 9th. 4 at-bats, 4 hits, 4 home runs, 7 RBIs [Runs Batted In].

Undoubtedly, the All-Star Game MVP.

The guy’s face, as he held the MVP plaque over his head and posed for pictures, was remarkably indifferent for someone receiving a free mid-sized sedan.

Well, considering how much money he makes, maybe it’s not a big deal. If he’s not happy with it, he could always give me that car. I’m still relying on public transportation to get around.

“Excuse me? Are you Kim Han-wool?”

“Huh? Ah, yes, I am.”

“Wow, I watched the All-Star Game! You were amazing!”

Well… thanks to my performance, and the fact that I still use public transportation, situations like this happen fairly often.

On the subway to the stadium, a man in his early 20s sitting next to me rummages through his bag and pulls out a bag and a notebook. He probably wants an autograph.

“Um… what’s your name?”

“Jang Woo-taek!”

“Okay.”

Jang… Woo… Taek…….

“Here you go.”

“Wow, thank you so much! Wow…….”

“Are you a Wonha fan?”

“Yes! For about 10 years!”

Oh my…….

“You must have seen me when I first joined the team.”

“Of course! But after you joined, you kept…….”

“Stop. That’s enough.”

When I told him to stop with a serious expression, the fan burst out laughing.

After that, I heard the usual well-wishes – please do well this season, keep up the good work – and then I got off at Jamsil Baseball Stadium Station.

Scratch, scratch. Sniffle.

Wiping away the sweat that immediately trickled down my face as soon as I stepped off the air-conditioned subway into the humid August heat, I sniffled, even though my nose wasn’t running. Is this what it feels like? To actually have a fan. I started walking towards the stadium again, a little lighter than before.

“You’re here.”

“Yep.”

The first person to greet me when I got to the stadium was Han Gyu-jin, who was a year ahead of me in high school. It’s been almost 15 years since we’ve known each other. He’s probably the closest thing I have to a real friend on the team.

He’s 30 years old this year. He throws a heavy fastball in the high 140s (km/h) with an arm angle close to 12 o’clock [overhand], a big, looping curveball, and a changeup that’s a nightmare for left-handed hitters.

His stuff is undeniably good, but his small height of around 160cm [approximately 5’3″] is a significant handicap. Because of that, he was stuck in the minors for the first few years after joining the team, and only started to shine in his 3rd or 4th year.

I gave him a cursory greeting and dropped my bag on my seat. I quickly changed my clothes and headed out to the field. Gyu-jin, who I greeted a little while ago, seemed to have already started working with catcher Gyu-hak, since he’s starting today.

There are a lot of people around, but the field looks somehow empty, and I feel a strange sense of detachment as I stare blankly at it.

“What are you doing?”

“Just… spacing out.”

“Want to go for a smoke?”

“Hmm…….”

Not a bad idea.

Young-jin from the team’s front office staff appeared out of nowhere. There was still quite a bit of time left until the meeting, so I headed to the smoking room without hesitation.

Ah, my cigarettes are in my bag.

“I have some. It’s okay.”

“I feel like I’m always bumming cigarettes off you…….”

“I’ve probably bummed more off you over the years.”

“I guess…….”

“I’ll buy you a carton later.”

“Deal.”

Flick— flick—

“I watched the All-Star Game. 3 strikeouts in 9 pitches, that’s amazing, right?”

“It was a fluke. Honestly.”

“You’re too modest.”

“Please don’t call it modesty, call it a guy who knows his place.”

“Haha.”

The empty smoking room starts to fill with smoke from two people.

“You’re close with Choi Woo-seok from the Hawks, right?”

“Yeah. We were on the same team since high school.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“You know it’s a hot topic, right? That scene.”

“You mean the fastball?”

“Yes.”

Even though Park Hae-jin was the All-Star Game MVP, my performance generated enough buzz to be talked about within the context of the All-Star Game.

Especially the last at-bat with Woo-seok. The scene where I struck him out with three fastballs after essentially calling my shot is still being mentioned occasionally, even several days after the All-Star Game.

“How did you do it?”

“Could you please phrase that as a complete sentence?”

“Your fastball has gotten so much better, I think we shouldn’t let you get poached as a coach.”

“Excuse me?”

“You asked me to phrase it as a complete sentence.”

“Don’t just give me the beginning and the end, include the middle too.”

“The beginning, the end, and the middle?”

“Yes.”

“Your fastball has gotten so much better, I think we shouldn’t let you get poached as a coach. How did you do it?”

“I appreciate you putting the beginning, middle, and end together, but there’s also something called order, isn’t there?”

“Your fastball has gotten so much better, how did you do it?”

What the.

“Effort.”

“Considering the amount of back-and-forth we had before, that’s too simple.”

“But what can I do? That’s the only way I can explain it.”

“Like, what specific efforts did you make, or something like that?”

“Hmm…….”

I wonder if he’ll even understand if I explain it.

“I tried to pull the release point as far forward as possible. It seems like other things got better as a result.”

“Oh… no wonder. The forward extension must have increased the overall power. And the shorter pitching distance would have increased the tunnel effect too [making pitches appear similar for longer, deceiving the batter].”

What is this? Why are you suddenly such an expert? Why are you being so intimidating?

“Well, I guess the forward extension would increase power, but it’s hard to see the tunnel effect with just the extension alone, isn’t it?”

“Even if you don’t use those fancy terms… Han-wool this year has something different about him.”

“Something?”

“What should I say… a presence, or an aura. Actually, you didn’t have that until last year. You really looked like you were just going out there to earn a paycheck out of a sense of obligation, but this year, you actually feel like a pitcher.”

“I was a pitcher before too, you know.”

“That’s just how I mean it, how I mean it.”

What do you even mean by that?

“What’s your goal for this season?”

Flick—

I put out the cigarette before it reached the filter and asked.

“…Um. Just maintaining what I have now.”

“Oh. That would be amazing.”

“What about you, Young-jin?”

“I… I hope we can win the Korean Series [the championship series of the KBO].”

“That’s going to be difficult…….”

“Why? If you keep pitching like this, there’s no reason we can’t.”

“There’s a constant, you know [referring to the team’s consistent underperformance].”

“Come on, have some faith.”

Squeak—

Two men came out of the opened smoking room, reeking of cigarette smoke.

“I think it’s possible, though? Within the next two years at the latest? Don’t you think?”

“That’s then, and for now, please buy us some expensive free agents.”

“If you could buy anyone, who would it be?”

“Uh…….”

I’m at a loss for words when I hear this question. The list of the league’s S-class players flashes through my mind.

Park Hae-jin, Choi Woo-seok, Lee Hyun-jin, Kim Ki-yoon, etc.

At the same time, I see my teammates running to the meeting place.

Gyu-hak, Tae-woong, Hyuk-joon, Joo-ho, Senior Seong-hoon, Seung-joo, etc…….

“…Just.”

“Yes?”

“I think it would be better if we just did it ourselves.”

“Out of the blue?”

“Yeah. I just want to do it ourselves, with this team.”

Even though it’s a bit of a non sequitur, Young-jin smiles brightly.

“Fighting [a Korean expression of encouragement].”

“Yeah. Well, fighting.”

The poke in my side doesn’t tickle.

“Seonbae [senior/older colleague]!”

“Yeah, I’m going.”

Myeong-jin is calling me. I think I’m going to be the last one to the meeting.

* * *

We won. A sweep!

We swept the three-game series against the Dongseong Hornets. I pitched in all three games during the series, recording 3 holds with 0 earned runs in 4.1 innings. Especially since all three appearances were in one-run situations, which makes it even more meaningful.

It’s a bit of a shame that all three games were played at Gocheok Dome, the enemy’s territory, but since it’s in the same city of Seoul, a lot of our Wonha fans came to share the joy with us.

“Are you leaving right away? Not having dinner with us?”

“The subway will stop running soon. I’m tired. I’m going home.”

“Oh, come on, just one drink.”

“Go away, I need my sleep.”

Leaving Myeong-jin’s whining behind, I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed outside. As expected, there weren’t many fans waiting for us since it was an away game. Just a handful. But even these few are appreciated.

“S, sign! Please!”

“Please take a picture with me!”

“Here, a pen!”

Yes, yes, anything you want.

I was known for having good fan service… or rather, there were virtually no ‘my fans’ when I was just a nobody. Back then, it felt more like they were Wonha team fans taking pictures and getting autographs because I happened to be a Wonha player.

But these days… the number of people who come specifically to see ‘me’ has started to increase, one by one. How could I not feel good about that?

I signed baseballs, notebooks, and other items that were thrust at me. I gladly accepted photo requests as well. The guys who left work later than me also participated in the fan service due to the positive atmosphere, whether they wanted to or not.

I don’t know if it’s thanks to me, but the Wonha team doesn’t really have any fan service controversies, at least not that I know of. The front office is also known for doing a good job in that area.

“Yes, yes, thank you all for coming.”

The small fan signing event that lasted about 15 minutes ended, and I headed to the subway station, bowing my head in gratitude.

Walking home after clinching a sweep fills me with a sense of accomplishment. Still, it would be a lie to say that the commute home after pitching in three consecutive games isn’t tiring, unless it’s a day when I didn’t pitch at all.

I took out my earphones from my pocket, thinking of listening to music on the way home. Nothing special, just the basic earphones that come with the phone.

I plugged the jack into the phone, plugged the left earbud in, and was about to plug in the right earbud when,

“Senior.”

“Huh?”

A voice stopped my hand.

“…Oh. Hyun-jin. You surprised me.”

Lee Hyun-jin. The ace pitcher of the Dongseong Hornets, who we just played against in the series, and a national-level pitcher as they say.

A sturdy physique of 185cm [approximately 6’1″] and 94kg [approximately 207 lbs]. The dancing fastball and various modified fastballs coming from an arm angle close to three-quarters would often break the opponent’s bat, and the sharply dropping changeup and sharp slider would make the bats that didn’t want to break dance in the air.

A complete-game ace with good stamina who throws fastballs in the low 150s (km/h) [93-96 mph] and is almost always among the top in innings pitched every season. He’s not that old yet, so he’s a pitcher who’s expected to be even better next year than this year.

Moreover, his sharply handsome face looks like the protagonist in a romance comic. He wasn’t particularly outstanding in school, but he was so handsome that he had female fans even with his buzz cut, so I couldn’t forget him even after turning pro.

However, there’s one thing… one thing about this guy that I should call a flaw, or at least something uncomfortable…….

“Oh… yeah. Long time no see. What’s up?”

Wondering if something happened, I asked why he called me, and he bowed at almost a 90-degree angle.

“I just wanted to see you, Senior.”

“…….”

He’s seriously my fanboy.