Peaceful Bullpen Life [EN]: Chapter 72

“Gun-young.”

“Yes?”

“…Catch it.”

“Ah…….”

The bullpen catcher is undeniably a member of the team.

They come to work early and leave late, taking on all sorts of miscellaneous tasks in between, and their salary includes passion.

The source of that passion: genuine dedication and love for the team.

Therefore, they are among the members who desperately want the team to win more than anyone else.

“…Yes!”

As I limply waved the ball, he grabbed his mitt to catch the ball that would soon be flying.

Thwack!

Thwack!

A light catch. The interval between throwing one ball and the next matched the interval of the pitcher currently pitching on the mound.

“Fighting, hyung [older brother or male friend].”

“I don’t know. Don’t trust me.”

The tips of my fingers are tingling. My shoulders are stiff, and my legs are shaky.

Ignoring the sensations, I focused on the movement of my body.

Taking a breath and moving my body, I heard a loud thud from Gun-young’s mitt.

Focus.

Concentration is actually good in this kind of situation. Because my condition isn’t good, I become careful out of concern.

However, I don’t know if my temporarily worn-out body can keep up with the peak concentration.

“Curve!”

The ball I threw, turning my glove upside down and flicking it downwards, was a curve that floated high and then dropped. No, a curve that should have floated high and then dropped.

The breaking ball that slipped out of my hand reached a height so high that the person sitting had to get up from their seat.

The curve is ambiguous. Let’s throw one more.

“Currrve!”

Bang!

A strange sound came from the mitt that should have made a clean sound. As much as it deviated from the average sound, it also deviated from the average movement.

I should take out the curve. Fastball, changeup, sinker, slider, splitter. Among these, let’s take out the splitter too.

Squeak—

The bullpen door, which needed oiling, opened.

A subtle emotional line could be seen on the face of the pitching coach holding the door. I ignored it and walked out through the opened path.

– Your love is a wildcard, Folding is the hard part―

Wowwww!!

The song I always hear when pitching at home has already become one of the symbols for me in the league.

Wild card.

The last card you can play when you don’t see a normal way out.

Ding—!

[Passion]

– Pitch a scoreless inning. (0/1)

– Reward ― All pitches +1

– I don’t know if you’ll hold me, Or leave me here feelin’ lonely―

Passion.

A simple two letters to grumble about.

How much passion can I show them today?

How much of their expectations can I meet?

Picking up the white ball lying alone near the pitcher’s plate, I quietly looked up to the left.

Everyone was cheering for me.

I don’t want to lose.

Grabbing the brim of my hat with my right hand, whitened with rosin, and pressing the back of my hat with my left wrist wearing the glove, I adjusted my hat.

Because of that, my head naturally lowered, and in the downward-adjusted viewing angle, our dugout was visible.

Ahem.

I cleared my throat for no reason and looked at Gyu-hak.

I started with a fastball. My eyes left the white object slowly heading towards the outside of the right-handed batter, barely catching the edge, and I immediately turned my body.

132km.

Without any regrets, I turned back again.

What kind of emotion is contained in Gyu-hak’s eyes, who has finished preparing for the return throw? Well, he must think I’m screwed.

Seventh batter, Jo Sang-wook.

Whoosh!

I took a deep breath and focused on my front. My concentration is good. Let’s follow the concentration.

Although my body is sluggish, the brain rotation, which has become faster as a countermeasure, quickly revealed information about the opposing batter.

Slightly above average power, average contact, and significantly below average eye.

With just these three clues, there is enough reason to take the winning series in the match against Jo Sang-wook.

Thwack!

“Strike!”

As soon as I received the return throw, I turned my body back as before.

134km.

Even though I threw it as hard as I could, I chuckled at the terrible speed.

My body, which usually throws an average of 140km and occasionally clocks up to 143km when I throw with all my might, has become so worn out.

It’s okay.

“Strike, two!”

There’s no reason to go head-to-head with this kind of batter. If I coax him properly, he’ll fall for it on his own.

Two consecutive pitches went into places that would make the batter want to scratch, tickling him. The locations were a fastball inside and a slider outside, respectively.

Let’s think about a ball that can be used as a finisher, excluding the curve and splitter that were terrible earlier. What would be good?

Gyu-hak’s decision was another fastball inside.

Knowing that I don’t have to go straight in, let’s pull it out just a little, just a little.

Clack—

“Foul—!”

A piece of the bat, which was hit in the Adam’s apple and split in two, rolled along the third base line.

While watching the ball boy running, I showed my glove to Gyu-hak.

I caught it with a thud and fiddled with the rosin to organize my thoughts.

Play!

As soon as the play call was made, the catcher quickly moved his fingers. The requested ball was a sinker deep inside.

I changed my grip and lifted my leg. The same delivery as the fastball, and almost identical arm swing.

However, the fatigue settled in my body prevented the tips of my fingers from pressing the ball all the way, and the sense that had settled in from throwing the ball for decades made me hit it even harder with a moment’s wit.

Dutak!

“Ball, ball!”

Ouch.

As a result, the excessively suppressed ball erased the lime powder that drew the left-handed batter’s box line.

My mouth tasted bitter as I wasted a ball for no reason.

I bowed my head to the umpire who immediately threw the ball and detected my current physical condition.

It’s okay. It’s okay.

As I repeated the three words like hypnosis, I really felt like I was okay.

It’s okay.

While sorting out the signs here and there, I saw Gyu-hak’s confident eyes and my head moved differently at a certain point. I grabbed the grip as if possessed.

Fastball. Inside.

The delivery that I had repeated thousands of times drew the same arc in a body condition that was not normal.

My butt faces the catcher, and I turn my right leg. I hit the ball hard with the end of my arm that is forcibly pulled out.

“Kkeuaak!”

Bang!

Did my soul get put into the fastball?

“Swing, out!”

The fastball that slightly slipped out of my hand went to a slightly higher place than the expected trajectory, but the batter swung the bat a beat late.

Seeing him completely lose his balance as if he had put all his strength into swinging the bat, I clenched my fist without realizing it.

I was immediately ashamed of the momentary struggle, lowered my head, and returned to the mound.

I picked up the rosin and watched the infielders rotate the ball. I nodded at Sung-hoon hyung’s silent support and received the ball that had returned.

Pinch hitter, Yang Deok-man.

Yang Deok-man senior…….

A senior in the KBO [Korean Baseball Organization] world. The same age as Lee Jae-myung senior from Hanseong, and Lee Hyo-jae senior who retired at the end of last year.

He is registered as a player, but he is actually active as a playing coach. What is the reason for Yang Deok-man senior’s appearance here?

Already in his forties.

Based on the pro standards, it is true that his power, eye, and contact are far behind.

However, the most important element obtained by sacrificing all the previous elements, experience.

Isn’t that what Dongseong expects from Yang Deok-man senior?

This time, I moved first. I spread four fingers to point at my elbow and touched the brim of my hat. This was exchanged for other hand gestures.

The batter’s eyes watching this do not show what’s inside, even if I stare at them intently.

Whoosh…….

I sighed and put both hands behind my head.

It took more courage than I thought to lift my head, which had been lowered in preparation.

“Keuk!”

Bang!

“Strike!”

The changeup that I threw to hang on the outside of the left-handed batter, aiming for the reverse of the reverse, worked.

I don’t know what is the reverse and what is the reverse of the reverse, but I watched quietly and put out the most urgent fire.

Next, the index finger and middle finger busily roamed around my body.

Hiding the slight trembling was harder than I thought.

It would be nice if the soul could be put in one more time.

“Kkeuaak!”

Ttaak—!

I would have pressed my soul into it and sent it. The batter, ignoring my sincerity, properly split the ball and sent it far into the outfield.

Ah, it’s a long hit.

I have to go for backup, but I stood in front of the mound as if possessed and watched the ball fly.

At the edge of the high viewing angle, I could see Jin-hyung running hard.

Please. Please.

Like a disciple praying to God, I sat down blankly on the spot.

Thanks to that, I could see it from a wider angle. Jin-hyung, who flew up sacrificing his body so that the free-falling ball would not be damaged, stretched out his left hand.

Like an airplane landing and taxiing for hundreds of meters, the center fielder’s body slid for a long time.

When it came to a complete stop, he raised his glove as hard as he could.

The white substance that is clearly visible in contrast to the red glove bottom.

Out!

Waaaaat—!!

Perhaps he himself cannot believe his good defense, he throws the ball towards the infield with all his might and rejoices with Seong-hyun, who came to cover, with a high five.

The shockwave generated from the two outfielders’ hands meeting infused strength into the knees that had touched the ground.

Ahem.

I cleared my throat once and picked up the rosin again as if nothing had happened.

A cracking sound came from my finger. I threw it on the ground and received the ball that Seong-moon had received again.

Ninth batter, Kim Seok-ho.

I could feel that it was slowly reaching the limit. No matter how much I’ve been hit so far, this has never happened before, but the batter looks big.

Am I mentally ill?

I shook my head and looked again, and he returned to his original appearance. Gyu-hak’s fingers, which looked small, also returned to their original size.

“Kkeuaak!”

Bang!

“Strike!”

I learned from the curve I threw this time that if you put your soul into it, things that didn’t work well will work.

The curve that didn’t go in at all in the bullpen had a more beautiful trajectory than any curve I had ever thrown in my life.

Receiving the slightly low return throw with a low waist and stepping on the plate again.

It’s okay.

Two fingers moved according to the catcher’s fingers.

“Eup!”

Once again, a fastball heading towards the outside of the left-handed batter, a changeup that looks like it,

A batter who easily watches “Ball—”. Didn’t the soul get put in this time? Then let’s throw a fastball that can easily send the soul.

Among the hits he has hit throughout this regular season, there are two balls that have officially crossed the fence.

And the two home runs he hit in the previous three games, including the recent two games.

The positive way of thinking manipulated this statistic as I pleased. The number two would be the highest for this batter.

If I grab the fastball grip and hit it with my soul, I can at least earn one more count.

“Euh… Keuk!”

The point I calculated accurately.

The fastball with the soul raised the speed, which had been playing in the mid to late 130km range, to 141km.

Ttaak—!

The point I didn’t calculate properly.

Even so, it’s just a water ball with only soul and no power.

“…….”

Standing blankly, I watched the ball that was fundamentally different from the previous Yang Deok-man senior’s ball.

If I slightly lower my eyes in that short moment, I can see Seong-hyun running hard towards the fence. If I raise my gaze again from there,

…….

…….

I can see the audience in front of the fence catching the ball and cheering.

It’s funny how people are, but my head only cooled down after making the most important mistake at the most important moment.

Ding—!

[Passion]

– Pitch a scoreless inning. (0/1)

– Failed quest.

With a default expression, I turned my body and showed my glove to the umpire. I received the ball and wiped the rosin again.

First batter, Choi Yong-hwan.

Choi Yong-hwan, who should be on the right side of my vision in the right-handed batter’s box, was not detected.

What my two eyeballs detected, what they are detecting, are Gyu-hak’s fingers and mitt.

Bang!

“Strike!”

Bang!

“Strike, two!”

138km, 136km.

It wasn’t like I was showing off my strength, and it wasn’t like I was indirectly stabbing him in the back.

The two balls that I just shoved in roughly with the feeling of ‘Ah, I don’t know’ made Choi Yong-hwan unable to move.

The white fingers contrasting with the black glove were trembling.

If we’re 18m apart, you wouldn’t be able to see even this, right?

I swallowed hard. I tried to calm the fingers that were twitching like trigger finger.

Let’s go in coolly!

A voice I don’t know when I heard came to mind.

Let’s go in coolly. Let’s go in coolly.

“Kkeuaak!”

Bang!

“Swing, out!”

Coolly. Coolly.

“Aaaargh!!”

Relief and regret mixed and burst out. Now my role is over.

I moved my wobbly legs and returned to the dugout. The expressions of the people who greeted me were all different. But they were similar.

You’re the best.

With a tearful heart, I smiled and ran.

“Hey, let’s score, let’s score!!”

I repaid each and every one of the countless requests for handshakes and sat in the dugout instead of the bullpen.

They must have seen it from the bench too. I know that I am a pitcher who is no longer useful today, let alone next week.

“Let’s go, let’s go!!”

I didn’t like the atmosphere of the dugout, which was somehow down.

I know it’s a thought I shouldn’t have, considering I made the most decisive mistake, but I can’t end it like this.

Clapping the loudest,

Out!

Running out of my seat first,

Out!

Shouting first and loudest.

Out!

“…….”

However, the returning replies were a series of regrets.

With a faint smile, I watched the Dongseong players running out to the ground and rejoicing.

The two hands that had risen to my chest to clap until the end slowly went down.

I saw a guy crying and a friend cursing out of resentment.

Clap clap clap clap!!

“Ah, it’s okay, you did well!”

Clap clap!

“Let’s go out!”

Smiling the brightest, I ran out to the ground first. I stood holding one end of the placard that the club’s ball boy handed me.

Our challenge does not stop!

Well, something like that.

I promised that it would be kept, but my conscience, which recklessly presented a message that was difficult to promise the results accordingly, did not hurt at all.

Somewhere between regret and relief, our 2018 post season came to an end.