Peaceful Bullpen Life [EN]: Chapter 86

My Stuff.

If you have to do a relative evaluation of something that is nearly impossible to quantify, what kind of expression would be good to add?

Bang!

“Strike!”

A bat that comes out to swing, then goes back as if to say, oh, never mind?

Whoosh—

“Swing-”

Coming out thinking, here we go! But completely missing and slicing through the air?

Bang-!

No,

“Ah, nice ball-”

It may be a somewhat cliché expression, but isn’t it that unbelievable look on the way back to the dugout?

What. What is it? What the heck is it?

Three-pitch strikeout.

I’ve had my fair share of experiences striking out with three pitches. Even when my performance wasn’t great, I managed to deceive batters with my control and their carelessness.

I’ve been around the block.

Feel.

But the feeling was completely different from then. Even just the previous game, the feeling of a three-pitch strikeout wasn’t like this.

Mental game.

A meticulous design and calculation, a feeling of forcibly taking it from an opponent blinded by excessive caution. Literally, a forced strikeout.

Power.

There’s one common fantasy among all pitchers: overpowering a batter with force, sending them back where they came from without doing anything.

I always thought it was impossible for me, but it happened. I did it. I can do it too.

Go Dong-wook and Kang Dae-hyun, who entered the opposite batter’s box, looked quite determined. They must have heard something on the way and are overly cautious.

Confidence.

The most essential quality for a pitcher is overflowing in me right now.

Whoosh!

“Swing-”

I wanted to imagine overpowering him by throwing it right down the middle.

But the unconsciousness that had been hit so far forced me to work the corners.

142km.

The velocity isn’t that high for someone gritting their teeth and throwing.

My back is tingling and my legs are shaking from the long toss. My gut feels a bit cramped, and I feel a slight pain in the front when I bend over.

Breaking ball.

The index finger, acting as a traffic cop, applied the brakes to prevent over-immersion.

It’s just a better fastball than my past experiences and superimposed image, but it’s not an absolute advantage in absolute numbers.

I wiggled my ring finger and changed my grip. The only extended index finger pointed exactly in the direction I wanted to throw.

Whack—

“Low ball-”

Ah, too bad.

Gyu-hak pulled it up with all his soul, but it wasn’t approved. He maintained the position of the mitt and protested silently, but it was no use.

Shouldn’t they call that one?

I would have thought so normally, but not really. I didn’t feel much regret. I can throw it again. I can.

I was convinced as I watched the bat come all the way to the end of the home plate and quickly return, saying, oh, I came to the wrong place.

I can get him. It’s okay.

The fingers that had been holding the fastball grip moved according to the catcher’s request. I suppressed the slight movement caused by the intersection of the tips of the index and middle fingers as much as possible.

Don’t bend it as it is, like a fastball.

Whoosh—

“Swing!”

The concept for this Kang Dae-hyun at-bat seems to be hitting a line drive. Outside fastball, outside curve, then a slider that runs away from the corner work.

He tried to hit it somehow, pulling his butt all the way back, but all he’s going to get is a ground ball.

I could feel the positive energy all over my face. I didn’t bother trying to hide it and converted it all into smiles.

One more outside slider, outside fastball, falling curve.

All three signs weren’t bad, but I shook my head because there was something I wanted to try right now.

I spread three fingers in the middle and touched my elbow, glove, and shoulder, and looked at him. The person in charge briefly pondered and then gave confirmation by raising one thumb.

Yes, yes, boss. I’ll give you something really good.

“Something good…something good…”

I was muttering to myself without even realizing it. My subconscious was shaking its head slightly up and down.

Trance.

The white catcher’s mitt in the blurred scenery was clearly visible at the moment the bent left leg straightened.

The sound of the rubber band strongly gripping the skep [the pitcher’s mound] rapidly expanding its area the moment the left leg touched the ground,

The sound of the right thumb, which had made a mess of the turf toe, being dragged along, the sound of the uniforms colliding due to the intense movement,

“Ma…Daak!!”

Even the sound of the tips of the index and middle fingers pushing and hitting the red seams strongly.

Bang!

Whoosh—

Every single sound was a strong appeal that I had a strong focus on all these situations right now.

“Swing, out-”

The tips of the index and middle fingers, the only parts that had returned to flesh color on the right hand, which was dyed white from end to end.

141km.

It’s a poor velocity for the scream I let out that would have made anyone burst out laughing, but it’s okay. If I touch the rosin bag again, my confidence will be recharged.

Number 3 hitter, Hong Seok-jin.

The batter who entered the opposite batter’s box again was a veteran player whose last season was scheduled for this year.

He had an all-time great eye for the ball, but conversely, the end of the days he had run solely on that eye wasn’t very good.

Batting average of .240.

He clearly couldn’t overcome the rapid change towards pitcher-friendly conditions. Nevertheless, it’s worthy of respect that he’s still the regular number 3 hitter, recording an on-base percentage of .330.

Contact and power are both slightly below average. But even based on the widened strike zone, he still boasts the best eye for the ball.

My partner was saying that we should try to tempt this kind of batter with the first pitch.

Is there really a need to do that?

I shook my head at a sinker that was missing by one. If you’re going to take it out, you have to take it out with the intention of setting it up; just hanging it there is a meaningless waste.

If you’re going to take it out, what about a changeup?

Let’s list the seven pitches I’ve thrown so far today. Four fastballs in a row, then a curve, a slider, and one fastball each.

Not bad.

Wouldn’t he be more interested in the fastballs? If I forcibly pull the point formed in the back to the front, he’ll swing and miss.

Pitchers who want to throw changeups occasionally come and ask me. How do you make it drop, how do you make it curve?

“Hmph!”

Then I answer them sincerely.

Whoosh—

“Swing-”

Just throw it like a fastball. Then it’ll happen on its own; you’ll get good results even if you don’t want to throw it that way.

There are several ways for a batter to judge a pitcher’s pitch: the slightly off angle of the arm, the rotation of the ball, the starting point of the ball, etc.

But the change in velocity cannot be judged physically. Only a speed gun can do that.

Okay, I threw a slow ball to get his attention, so what should I throw next?

As expected, Gyu-hak answered with a diagonal. A very intense diagonal.

The grip of the fastball fit perfectly into the glove. The two fingers wiggled for no reason, but there were no changes in the intermediate stage.

I put it behind my head as it is, and my left leg goes up high with a pop! The baseball, which had been held weakly enough to fall to the ground if I tapped it,

“Keuaaa!”

Just before the release, it is squeezed and compressed as it is caught between the upper and lower teeth that are tightly closed.

Bang!

If you compress it, you have to fire it.

“Swing!”

You can never hit a fastball in the high inside strike zone with a swing that’s about two timings late.

143km.

I felt much more relaxed after taking two strikes first. The catcher’s face was deep in thought, and the batter’s expression was full of tension.

“Hoo….”

I moved my right foot, which had been on the plate, to the side. I took off my hat, which was already covered in sweat, and wiped my forehead with my sleeve.

I picked up the rosin bag, which was spread out like toast, and rubbed it while looking around.

Cheering spectators. Our fielders watching me comfortably. Park Hae-jin staring at me indifferently in the next circle.

I glanced at the scoreboard. Then I checked the quest details drawn on the baseball with red seams.

What if I abandoned the quest and faced Park Hae-jin with my current confidence?

“…No.”

Don’t be reckless. What a disgrace it would be to let Hong Seok-jin go and get a home run from Park Hae-jin. There’s no need to get hit with a game-tying home run.

I ignored it and checked Gyu-hak’s sign.

Power.

He was asking for a high fastball that was far outside the strike zone. He wanted my newfound power.

I’ll show you.

I nodded and wound up again.

This pitch was similar to a promotional stage showing my upgraded self.

Reversal for those who look down on me, awe for those who look up to me,

“Eup!”

And caution to Park Hae-jin, who was watching me from a slightly distant place.

Ding-!

[I’ll show you, a changed me.]

– Finish all 1 innings with strikeouts (1/1)

– Reward – All pitches +2

Control – Top

Power – High

Stamina – Medium

Four-seam – 67+2=69

Curve – 55+2=57

Slider – 47+2=49

Splitter – 47+2=49

Changeup – 51+2=53

Sinker – 51+2=53

Traits

Detachment – Accepts any hit or situation.

Discomfort – Makes the opposing batter uncomfortable when they look at the pitcher in the batter’s box.

Comfort – Those who look at me feel comfortable.

“Shhh!”

On the way back to the dugout after striking out all three batters.

Even though it wasn’t a new path that always made people’s hearts flutter, it was full of objects that made me clench my fist.

Gyu-hak smiling brightly and holding out his mitt, Seong-hyun saying it’s boring now that I’m on the mound, the manager clapping his hands, saying good job.

Unintentionally, the lingering footsteps made me the last place in the race to return to the dugout quickly.

I met everyone with my right hand and my left hand. The sound of two people’s worth of applause filling the bench continued until Senior Shin Kyung-seok finished the game.

“Yaaaak!!”

“Let’s goooo!!”

“Hooooooo!!”

1st place.

Let’s go out and fight! Victory Challengers! For Wonha’s victory!

Directly sniping at Sangsoo, Wonha Challengers rose to the top of the league standings for the first time in years, for the first time in thousands of days.

Watching the fans in the stands singing Wonha’s cheering song loudly and waving Wonha’s flag around, it’s like….

“Hyung [older brother or senior male figure].”

“Yeah.”

“If we win the championship this year, will you admit that I’m a better captain than you?”

“Are you crazy?”

I felt like we could really win the championship.

It wasn’t a question like, can we do it? It was a contract worth dozens of pages saying, we can do it.

Although it’s an uncomfortable first place where we have to keep bumping shoulders with someone who is in an uncomfortable cohabitation in the same Jamsil Stadium, not just our Wonha’s place.

“Hyung, hyung, hyung.”

“Uh.”

“If we win the championship, buy me a new first base mitt.”

“Are you crazy?”

No one was uncomfortable. Rather, they were happy that we were being treated as equals to those well-known people over there.

They’re the ones who are uncomfortable, not us.

The next day, and the day after that, we lost consecutive games and fell back to 2nd place in the league, but it was okay.

We can do it. We can win.

Even the guys who go to the same stadium as the team that wins all the time could finally feel that emotion.