Peaceful Bullpen Life [EN]: Chapter 175

※ 175. Tingly

Batters can be fundamentally divided into two categories:

Those who actively engage in attacking.

Those who passively face the pitch.

Whether the swing is level or downward, whether they pull or push, whether it’s a ground ball or a fly ball—all that comes next.

So, how about dividing pitchers into two broad categories?

Those who actively showcase their strengths.

Those who passively exploit the batter’s weaknesses.

Whether the ball is slow or fast, overhand or underhand, left-handed or right-handed—again, all that comes after.

Second batter, Kim!! Sung!! Joo!!

Since I’m standing on the mound, the best match from a pitcher’s perspective is the former and the latter, respectively. A pitcher who can intensively target the weaknesses of a batter who mindlessly swings with obvious flaws.

The ‘weakness’ described in this logic can be explained in various ways.

It could be a specific type of pitch, a specific location, or a specific velocity.

“Play!”

The weakness to target today is the pitch type. More precisely, the movement.

With lingering anxiety about location, I have to start with a broken trust in control.

Similarly, the fundamental reason batters fear fastballs is, ‘What if that fastball comes to a place I can’t react to?’

Therefore,

Thwack-!

Let’s start with a light outside fastball.

“Ball-”

Rather than starting with a powerful fastball to get a strike, it’s more about gauging how messed up the strike zone is.

I threw it expecting a ball, but I felt a bit puzzled when it was actually called a ball.

Didn’t it graze the edge?

I tried to receive Gyu-hak’s return calmly, but Gyu-hak’s expression seemed to say,

‘Hyung [older brother/male friend], is something wrong?’

Problem, huh…….

Is the problem Gyu-hak is talking about really about this call, or about the 151km fastball?

151km?

Fast. It’s definitely a very fast speed.

But if a pitcher who usually throws in the high 150s suddenly throws a 151km fastball from the start, it makes those receiving, hitting, and watching feel doubtful.

Is he hurt somewhere?

Nope,

Click-!

He’s perfectly fine.

“Foul, foul-!”

The next pitch was a 147km sinker. In terms of location, it was a course that flowed out a bit more inside than the previous fastball.

A lack of confidence or trust in the zone isn’t just a headache for the battery [pitcher and catcher].

The zone is a bit erratic; what if they call it a strike this time even though they didn’t before? Especially since it came in more inside than before?

Did that last one come in?

It did.

Therefore, before hitting, the batter has no choice but to ask the umpire to set the coordinates for the previous pitch.

But will that really set the coordinates?

Thwack-!

“Strike-!”

He’s an old man who doesn’t even know what coordinates are.

The pitch I threw this time was the same fastball as the first pitch. The location was also the same as the fastball I threw on the first pitch.

Same as the fastball I threw on the first pitch?

“This is really something else.”

The first pitch, a fastball that seemed to graze the outside, was called a ball.

This pitch, the same fastball entering the same spot as before, was called a strike.

What is he doing?

The batter also feels the same way,

Isn’t that a bit far?

It grazed, it grazed.

They can’t help but have the same question as me.

To be able to make several people laugh and cry with just three pitches, that umpire is truly amazing.

And I’m sorry to the batter, but

“Ugh!”

Click―

I’ll be the one laughing.

“Pitcher cover!”

A cutter-like slider that sharply cut inside hit the bat’s sweet spot and quickly rolled down the first base line.

As soon as I saw the ball rolling to my left, my body moved to cover first base, something I had practiced thousands, tens of thousands of times.

The right foot that finished the pitch planted on the ground without a moment to spare, pushing off the ground with all my might, then stepping forward with the left foot, and again with the right foot.

After repeating this process a few times,

“Hey!”

The first base came into view,

Slam!

Gi-sung’s throw from a slightly distant position was embedded in my glove with a satisfying sound.

Showing the white baseball embedded in the black glove to the first base umpire,

“Out!”

The first base umpire clenched his fist and declared the out.

“Hoo!”

With a sigh of relief, I tossed the ball to Gi-sung and slowly returned to the mound.

Covering the base is really tough. No, it’s difficult.

It’s common sense that the pitcher should move according to whatever ball is hit, but most of the time, they blank out due to the sudden exhaustion after throwing.

I’ve missed so many out counts because of this during my elite years, and been scolded so many times because of it.

There’s a reason why they make you practice base covering like crazy.

“Hoo!”

Trundling along, I exhaled the short breaths that had risen, and arrived at the mound,

Third batter, Choi!! Jae!! Won!!

The next batter appeared in the same left-handed stance as the previous batter.

“Hoo….”

Pitching to contact.

This quest requires pitching with economy in mind.

Economy?

Economy is good. It’s good, but,

Click―

“Short, short!”

“Mine, mine!!”

Economical pitching is a word you can throw around in situations like this.

When you get them out with just one or two pitches.

“Out-.”

Watching Myung-jin attempt a behind-the-back toss to Sung-moon after catching the fly ball, I fiddled with the rosin bag.

Ah, frustrating.

Having to continue pitching so frustratingly just because I’ve mortgaged my control feels incredibly stifling.

Pitching to contact looks good on the surface. But unless you’re going to get every batter out with one or two pitches, it’s like a gilded lily.

Where’s the guarantee that you’ll get every batter out like that? Even the second batter, Kim Sung-joo, took four pitches when I was pitching to contact?

“Ah, hyung, your ball is good.”

Myung-jin, who started and ended the rounding, came directly to me for the first time in a while and handed me the ball.

I gave a thumbs up to the guy giving me a thumbs up, and he returned with a double thumbs up before going back to his position.

And as I moved my body back to the mound,

Fourth batter, Lee!! Won!! Woong!!

I welcomed the appearance of the fourth batter.

“Hoo…will this be easy or difficult?”

After facing two left-handed batters in a row and then facing a right-handed batter, I can’t tell if the difficulty of this quest has increased or decreased.

When you can’t know what you want to know, when you can’t grasp what you feel like you should be able to grasp.

The annoyance that comes at times like that heavily pulls up one corner of my mouth.

Thumb, index finger.

Gyu-hak said that throwing an inside sinker at times like this would make me feel better.

Agreeing with Gyu-hak, I threw a sinker,

Click―

“Foul-.”

Lee Won-woong hit the inside of the bat and it scurried away. Even with the vibration-dampening rubber ring on, my right thumb hurt quite a bit,

“Time!”

He even called time to the umpire, complaining of pain.

Gyu-hak is right. Seeing that makes me feel good. I really have a dirty personality, don’t I?

After quickly spraying an air spray near his thumb and seeing Lee Won-woong entering the batter’s box, I remembered what my old pitching coach used to say.

You don’t need a strike inside.

Thwack-!

“Ball!”

This time, I jammed a fastball deep inside.

I knew it would be a ball, or rather, I was trying to throw a ball from the start.

How far off was it?

About one ball.

For the batter’s reaction like this.

I could see the batter, who had felt great pain from the inside sinker on the first pitch, unconsciously making a passive expression.

Perhaps if this pitch hadn’t been a pitch that was blatantly stuck in the center, he wouldn’t have swung even if he knew it was coming into the zone.

Because batters are people too. People generally hate being in pain.

And usually, someone who has been hurt once tries to find a way to avoid being hurt as much as possible.

Aiming for a ball that’s in the middle, or aiming for an easy-to-hit slow ball.

Then I’ll have to give them what they want. And then twist it a little more.

I tapped the brim of my cap once with my index finger and swept down from my left shoulder to my glove.

A signal that I’m going to throw a changeup.

“Ugh!”

The changeup, which looked like a fastball thrown with effort, first flew towards the center of the strike zone, slightly high and biased towards the inside.

There were many modifying words, but to put it bluntly,

Tap-!

The same area as a mistake.

“Fair!”

Thud―

“Batter’s not running!”

“Hyung, you have plenty of time! You can take your time!”

The changeup, which started slightly high in the center and slightly inside from the center, soon sank and eventually became another inside ball.

Lee Won-woong, who is strong against fastballs, thought this was it and swung, but seeing the batted ball barely cross the line, he headed to first base in a nonchalant manner.

Slam―

Well, it’s an out.

Ding-!

[Ticklish]

– Pitch a scoreless inning without recording a strikeout. (1/1)

– Reward – Changeup +2

Control – Top

Power – Top

Stamina – Medium

Four-seam – 100

Curve – 95+2=97

Slider – 94+2=96

Splitter – 96+2=98

Changeup – 95+2=97

Sinker – 94+2=96

Traits

Detachment – Accepts any batted ball or situation with a ‘whatever’ attitude.

Discomfort – Makes the opposing batter feel uncomfortable when they see the pitcher on the mound.

Comfort – Those who watch him feel comfortable.

Concentration – The number of targets he can concentrate on increases.

Showdown – Four-seam +5 when he wants to win.

Contagion – His emotions are contagious.

“Hoo!”

Having finished the quest, which was, in my personal opinion, the most difficult ever, I felt relieved.

As if the terrible feeling I had felt for a moment was a lie,

“Yeah!”

I quickly ran to the dugout to greet the returning fielders.

Click!

Only after finishing the selfie ceremony did my mind completely relax, and I entered the dugout, giggling.

“Yo, Bang-wool.”

“Yo, Sul-joo.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“You’re a crazy bastard.”

“That’s right.”

“I think I’m going crazy, really.”

How long has it been since I sat down? Seung-joo sat next to me, snickering.

“You little punk, you threw pretty well?”

Then he held out his right hand towards me.

“I throw pretty well.”

Slap!

Then I have to accept it.

“Wow, it feels like just yesterday that our Bang-wool was whining and saying, ‘Ah, damn it, I can’t play baseball,’ and complaining.”

“Hey, you bastard, are you fighting with facts in a cowardly way?”

“Why, should I fight fair and square with slander and fabrication?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, our great pitcher Kim Han-wool, you’ve finally come to save our Wonha Challengers after 10 years!”

“I’m sorry. Stop it.”

Damn it.

“…But why are you suddenly talking about the old days?”

“Just because. I’m amazed.”

“What at?”

“It really feels like just yesterday that you were whining like that. Little punk, I don’t know when you got so cocky and became such a successful guy on your own.”

It’s been over 10 years since I’ve been through thick and thin with this guy.

It’s been almost 10 years since I’ve been through thick and thin with most of the other teammates.

It’s been at least a few years since I’ve been through thick and thin with the other coaching staff and front office staff.

Like Seung-joo said, time has passed quickly without me realizing it.

“Our Seung-joo, you’ve gotten unnecessarily emotional as you’ve gotten older.”

“You’re talking like you’re not getting older.”

“What are you talking about? I’m older than you, you fast ’90s bastard [born in the early 90s]. Call me hyung from now on.”

“Will you buy me food?”

“You crazy bastard.”

“What are you talking about, you crazy bastard.”

Having a conversation with no nutritional value whatsoever, isn’t that what friends are for?

“The season is almost over, and you still have a 0 ERA [Earned Run Average]. Are you even human?”

“I’m human.”

“What are the hitters supposed to live on? You heartless bastard.”

“You’re living off me, you heartless bastard.”

“That’s right.”

“Call me hyung.”

“Will you buy me food?”

You crazy bastard.

Thwack-!

While Sung-moon was watching a huge batted ball in right-center field,

“…Hey.”

I heard Seung-joo’s low voice.

“What.”

“I think we can really win this year.”

“What are you talking about, out of the blue.”

“Just because. I feel that way when I see you.”

“…….”

Because it’s cheesy?

“…I know, you bastard.”

No, because I could feel Seung-joo’s poignant emotions as they were.

“Let’s do it, Bang-wool. This year is the real opportunity.”

Seung-joo will be a free agent at the end of this year.

He says that other teams wouldn’t take a hitter like him who can’t play defense at all and doesn’t have such high classic stats.

But that’s just what he thinks.

According to what I heard from Young-jin, Seung-joo is one of the players who had the most trade inquiries this year.

That means he’s a player that catches their eye, this drunkard.

“Just hold on for two months.”

“Why two months.”

“In two months, the…Korean Series will be over, right?”

“Ah, that’s about right in terms of dates.”

It’s already near the middle of September.

A few more games to play, and then the Korean Series that we’ll face after waiting a bit will be the end of that much-talked-about ‘third year’ season.

“In two months, we’ll be lifting the trophy and going crazy.”

“Two months…that’s long.”

Thwack-!

“Hold on, it’s not much time left.”

“Okay.”

Watching Gyu-hak’s batted ball go over the fence, I tapped Seung-joo on the back and got up from my seat.

“Ah, Gyu-hak nice bat!!”