Peaceful Bullpen Life [EN]: Chapter 64

64. Season Review

As the season neared its end, we secured 3rd place in the league.

With two games remaining, Wonha stood at 61 wins, 2 draws, and 61 losses. Sungwoon, having lost yesterday, had 58 wins, 1 draw, and 65 losses.

A festive atmosphere!

Naturally, everyone was happy. Not only had we advanced to the post-season for the second consecutive year, but our performance had also improved from last year!

The mismatches in various areas that had persisted since the beginning of the season were long forgotten.

A solid starting lineup! A strong defense! A cohesive batting lineup! A bullpen that could rival Visco’s!

Well, at least some of them could.

Having secured a higher rank faster than expected, we continued to manage the stamina of our starting players, clearly indicating that our goal was the post-season, not these meaningless games.

The last game of the season.

Ding―!

[Finale!]

– Pitch a scoreless inning in the last game of the season. (0/1)

– Reward ― Slider +2

Our opponent was the Visco Runners. After losing to us last year and Sungwoon this year, they failed to reach the post-season for the second consecutive year.

In the top of the 8th inning, with a three-run lead, I fiddled with the rosin bag. I stepped on the white plate with the black text on it with my right foot.

Finale.

Let’s go in coolly.

“Strike!”

A fastball heading towards Bang Eun-min’s body. He watches it for now. I glanced at the scoreboard. 142km.

Perhaps due to the stamina management, my pitches are better than I thought. Let’s focus on fastballs.

Let’s go in stylishly.

“Foul!”

After letting one high curveball go, he was late on the fastball. Without much hesitation, I nodded.

“Ball!”

It looked like it came in?

My body turned to the left faster than my mind. Gyu-hak seemed to think the same, pointing at the first base umpire.

Unfortunately, he spread his hands to the sides, indicating that the bat hadn’t come out.

I shook my head at the splitter that fell low, the slider that ran away, and the sinker that came inside. After shaking my head two more times, the sign I wanted finally came.

Yeah, that’s it. Let’s go inside one more time.

Today, my inside fastball is good.

“Swing, out!”

I took my eyes off the swinging bat and immediately returned to the mound.

After turning around once and fiddling with the rosin bag, the rounding ends with perfect timing.

I received the ball from Seong-hoon hyung [older brother or close male friend] and stood on the plate again.

I took off my glove and wiped the ball thoroughly with both hands, thinking back. Since I had changed, he couldn’t seem to time my pitches.

Let’s make it even harder.

I spread all five fingers and stuck them to my glove. However, the finger Gyu-hak sent back was just the index finger. It was a clear mismatch, but the result matched.

Ttak―!

“Foul!”

A curveball that fell low on the outside. The ball he forced to hit landed next to Seong-hyun, a foul ball.

It didn’t go inside the line, but the hit itself was solid, giving me an eerie feeling.

No, I’ve got the count.

I quickly shook off the 잡생각 [jap-saeng-gak: distracting thoughts] and waited for the sign again. After rejecting the slider twice, the third slider appeared. I wondered if it would be okay, but decided to follow along for now.

“Swing!”

It works?

A great swing and a miss on the slider that started inside and dug in deep.

– It doesn’t need to break too much. It’s a slider, after all. Just enough is enough.

Just enough.

Hyun-jin’s words resonated deeply.

Just enough.

Another slider sign came out. This time, a change in vertical movement, not horizontal.

I lightly pressed the glove on the palm and pushed the ball with my ring finger, easily completing the grip. A low fastball on the outside.

– Just throw it like a fastball. It’ll sink on its own.

Toodak!

“Swing, swing!”

Perhaps I still haven’t fully understood the profound meaning of the word “just enough.”

The ball that bounced off the protector bounced a little further away than I thought.

It would have been too difficult to catch and tag, so Gyu-hak quickly ran out, picked up the ball, and threw it slowly, slowly to first base.

“Out.”

The first base umpire’s indifferent call brought up the second red light, and the next batter came in.

The last appearance, the last batter of the season.

It felt new. I haven’t accomplished anything yet, but I felt like I had become something. A smile naturally formed.

Am I crazy?

Gyu-hak, who saw me suddenly grinning, asked with his eyes why, but I ignored him. Let’s finish quickly and go in.

Ttak―

“Foul!”

I wondered if Byeong-cheon, who came in instead of Hoon, could have caught it, but the ball that fell to the ground faster earned a foul call first.

It’s fortunate for the batter, and not bad for me either.

Since I got a foul with the slider, let’s go with the opposite pitch.

That’s what the catcher was saying.

“Ball!”

A changeup that dug deeper inside, but the location that started deep from the beginning was a position the batter could ignore.

Let’s go with this.

Before Gyu-hak’s sign came out, I tapped my hat and elbow with my index finger. He nodded, and his thumb twitched once.

Yeah, that’s it.

“Kkeuaak!”

Ttak―!

Deep inside, but higher than before. But definitely in the strike zone.

“It’s up!”

As soon as I saw the ball soaring high, I raised my right hand high. My hand came down following the ball that went up quickly and came down quickly.

By the time my arm was parallel to the ground, the ball had landed in Gi-seong’s glove.

Ding―!

[Finale!]

– Pitch a scoreless inning in the last game of the season. (1/1)

– Reward ― Slider +2

Control ― Top

Power ― Medium

Stamina ― Medium

Four-seam ― 59

Curve ― 52

Slider ― 38+2=40

Splitter ― 41

Changeup ― 48

Sinker ― 46

Traits

Detachment ― Accepts any batted ball or situation with equanimity.

Discomfort ― Makes opposing batters feel uncomfortable when they look at the pitcher on the mound.

Comfort ― Those who watch me feel comfortable.

“Ah, Gi-seong catches well!”

“Ah, I can catch a bit!”

After finishing the twisted inning in the bottom of the 8th and the top of the 9th, one season of 2018 comes to an end.

The bottom of the 8th unfortunately ended with three batters. Then, in the top of the 9th, Senior Shin Kyung-seok stood on the mound to finish the game, the season.

“Striiiiiike!”

The stylish motion of the umpire. That exaggerated gesture meant that two yellow lights had disappeared and one red light had appeared.

The colorful scoreboard was devoured by one red light, then another, and then all seven lights were lit.

It must be the last ball.

The battery [pitcher and catcher] finished exchanging signs. The pitcher’s left leg lifted. He bent his waist and his arm came around to the side.

The curveball that curved greatly to the side barely grazed the end of the bat and rolled weakly towards the shortstop.

Yak!

Wak!

Euaak!

The time it took for the ball to roll was only 1.5 seconds. The time it took for the shortstop to catch it and throw it to first base was 1.5 seconds.

In that short moment of 3 seconds, our dugout was filled with sounds of suppressing something.

Paang!

“Out!”

Waaaaaaak!!

Gajaaaaat!!

Yesaaaaaaa!!!

Gi-seong didn’t even wait to hear the first base umpire’s call before taking off his mitt and throwing it into the sky.

Joy.

Everyone, numbering in the dozens, was feeling the same emotion. Thousands, tens of thousands of people were connecting with us.

Victory Wonha! The strongest Wonha! Let’s go, let’s fight! We are Wonha!

Even though we only came in 3rd in the league, we were all happy.

Anyone would think we had won the championship, but who cares, we’re happy.

[Once again, we will challenge for higher places!]

Unlike last year, this banner, which must have been made in advance, was to my liking.

Once again.

Among the players who bowed to the fans and went back into the dugout, no special words were needed.

Exhilaration.

When I turned my head, I met the eyes of many people. There were many people, but the emotion I encountered each time was the same.

That’s how the season ended.

63 wins, 2 draws, 61 losses. 3rd place in the league. Confirmed advancement to the 준플레이오프 [Jun-Playoff: Semi-Playoff].

Our eyes were focused on the Sungwoon Hawks, whom we would meet in a week.

* * *

Two consecutive years of high offense, low pitching.

That’s how the 2018 season could be described.

A 점수 대파티 [Jeom-su Dae-pa-ti: A scoring party, a high-scoring game].

Even more points flew around than in the 2017 season, which had abruptly shifted from the low offense, high pitching of the 2016 season to high offense, low pitching.

Because of this, Senior Choi Eun-gu’s low 4 ERA and Senior Shin Kyung-seok’s mid-3 ERA seemed even more significant than they appeared.

Even more so when you add the filter of the slump we encountered at the beginning of the season. Ji-ho, a rookie this year, also contributed greatly with a mid-4 ERA.

The performance of the starting pitchers, who quickly shook off their mid-season wanderings, could not be ignored.

Hyeok-jun had 14 wins, Gyu-jin hyung had 11 wins. Jun-hyeok only had 8 wins, but Tae-woong, who would receive the most points for consistency, had a 대기염 [dae-gi-yeom: great record] of 10 wins.

If you calculate the average ERA of these four, it comes out to 4.34.

With this kind of ERA, there are those who would downplay it as a victory achieved through the batting lineup, but looking at the entire league, it’s hard to find pitchers with even a 3 ERA, let alone a 2 ERA.

But in the midst of this, there was one pitcher who didn’t reach the regulation innings but recorded the only ERA in the 1 range…!

57 games, 63.2 innings, 1.26 ERA, 6 wins, 40 holds, 8 saves, 69 strikeouts, 21 walks, 1 hit batter, WHIP of 0.96

Me. It’s me.

2018 season, the first year of my FA [Free Agent] contract. I dispelled the public’s concerns that it was an overpay in one fell swoop and earned the reputation of being a 효자 [hyo-ja: filial son, a contract that pays off handsomely] contract that was worth more than the money.

League hold king, the first in the KBO [Korean Baseball Organization] League to break 40 holds, the most holds in a single season in the KBO League, the lowest ERA among bullpen pitchers, the lowest WHIP.

Yes, no matter what anyone says, I have become one of the pitchers representing the KBO, able to present my 명함 [myeong-ham: business card, credentials].

Of course, there were still many people who sneered.

Although my velocity had increased, the fact that it still remained in the late 130km range was enough to make me a target for their criticism.

The question of whether I would participate in the Premier12 after the end of next season, and how effective I would be if I did, had already begun to burn.

But that’s too far in the future.

The batting lineup all performed well. But if I had to pick the most noticeable one, it would 당연 성현이 [dang-yeon Seong-hyun-i: of course, Seong-hyun].

He seemed to have taken FA roids at the same time as Dongseong’s Hyun-jin, showing the 모습 [moseup: appearance, form] of 야잘잘 [ya-jal-jal: someone who is naturally good at baseball] without holding back.

.342/.413/.568 slash line with 31 home runs and 102 RBIs. He also added 12 stolen bases and recorded 15 assists in the outfield, ranking first among outfielders and freely promoting himself as a 5-tool player.

What a scary bastard. I hope he stays on the team like me. It would be really scary to meet him on another team.

As I scrolled down the page, Park Hae-jin’s record caught my eye. After seeing Seong-hyun’s record, I was confident that I wouldn’t be surprised by any batter’s record.

.363/.444/.698 51 home runs 143 RBIs.

What did I just see?

I wondered if I had seen it wrong, so I rubbed my eyes for a moment and stared at the phone screen again.

.363/.444/.698 51 home runs 143 RBIs.

There was no change. It was true.

“Wow… what kind of bastard is this, really.”

“Why?”

“No, look at this.”

“…I’m used to it now.”

Woo-seok, who was next to me, was indifferent even after seeing Park Hae-jin’s record.

“Are you used to it?”

Ah, he was on the national team too.

Woo-seok also had a good record thanks to the high offense, low pitching trend. Good records for three consecutive years.

Just looking at the slash line, it’s .313/.401/.502. He joined the 20-20 club once again.

“Actually, I was very jealous. Hae-jin, that guy.”

“Because he’s good?”

“Can it be explained by just being good?”

“I guess not.”

“Seriously, I barely made it to this spot while suffering a stress fracture from 빈 스윙 [bin seu-wing: practice swings]. And then a young kid suddenly appears and hits 4th in the national team. Wouldn’t you be pissed?”

Stress fracture.

Until his second year of high school, Woo-seok was just one of the ordinary outfielders. He practiced like crazy.

Now that times have changed, I know that practice isn’t everything. But 10 years ago, 15 years ago, all we could do was practice.

“Yeah. I’d be pissed.”

“So I just watched him. The way that bastard does things. But well……”

He put the soju glass down on the table and chuckled. Like he had wind in his lungs.

“Hey. Have you ever heard that saying?”

“What.”

“That thing. The one about how someone who works hard can’t beat someone who enjoys it? What was it.”

“Ah…….”

I couldn’t remember the exact text, so I turned on my phone and put in some search terms, and I was able to recite the correct sentence.

“A genius can’t beat someone who works hard, and someone who works hard can’t beat someone who enjoys it. This?”

“Yeah. Park Hae-jin is a genius, and I’m someone who works hard. But I thought, why am I losing to that bastard? But when I looked.”

Whoa…….

“He’s a genius, he works like crazy, and he enjoys it.”

He was a scary bastard.

“You said something to Hyun-jin back then, right.”

“What.”

“When you guys were eating last year or something.”

“Ah… that. Did that bastard tell you about it?”

“It’s been a while. It came up by chance.”

“Damn it.”

He chuckled, recalling the dark history.

“Catching Park Hae-jin out on a strike?”

“Yeah. Half of his record is mine.”

“That’s right.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Fact ban?”

The banter between friends subsided for a moment, and then he suddenly became serious.

“Hey.”

“Why.”

“Do you really want to strike Hae-jin out?”

“Wouldn’t I? Look how many times I’ve been hit. I have to return the favor at least once.”

“Then work really hard.”

“I’m working hard.”

“No. You’re still far, far away.”

“Who are you to say that? I’ve already achieved this much.”

“Are you satisfied with that?”

“…….”

No.

Those two words should have popped out reflexively, but they didn’t.

“Think about why you’re playing baseball.”

He left those words behind and lay back down in his seat. The time was 2 AM.

As the person to talk to disappeared, I began to feel the effects of the alcohol, so I lay down on my back as well.

But Woo-seok’s last words didn’t let me fall asleep quickly.