Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 170

The contest, which resumed after a brief lull, ended quickly. The tension that had built up until now felt absurd, given the anticlimactic result.

“Base on balls.”

Lee Jung-woo, casually tossing his bat, trudged to first base after the umpire’s call.

Pitcher Peter Henson, like a child playing hide-and-seek who thinks he’s invisible when he covers himself with a blanket, forcibly turned his head, refusing to acknowledge the reality before him, not even allowing a glimpse of Lee Jung-woo into his sight.

[Ah… yes, number 2 hitter Jung-woo Lee reaches base on balls, and, uh, the Braves successfully make their second appearance on base this game.]

[…Almost a straight ball. It’s no different from that.]

In light of the series of events, the caster minimized his words as much as possible, simply listing information in a calm manner, but the commentator expressed what he felt directly.

A straight walk. The match had progressed quite a bit, and there were already two strikes, but the commentator didn’t hesitate to express it that way. As he said, what just happened was almost no different from a straight walk.

‘Avoiding… I’m disappointed, but it’s not a bad choice, for now.’

Four consecutive balls.

Even those were thrown in a way that the catcher could barely catch them, in case a bat came out, telling who had won this match.

The no-hitter was still maintained. Because it was a walk.

But everyone knew.

That the pitcher had succumbed.

If he had sent him out on a walk from the first at-bat. If he had just given an intentional walk. He would have willingly said it was a strategic decision. But now, no one among the Rockies fans thought that way.

The pitcher had already done his best to compete, had a power struggle, and tasted a bitterness that made the back of his neck feel cold. A walk in that situation could never be strategic.

It was just avoiding the immediate danger.

‘The atmosphere of the ground is broken. The record no longer matters. It’s just a matter of when it will be broken.’

King of the mound who lost the fear he had built up himself. Would the batters still fear him? Lee Jung-woo was sure. Absolutely not. Even if he tried to maintain it somehow, he would ruin it.

‘It’s already a crumbling castle wall, but since I’ve made it to base, I should add a little bit of my effort.’

Lee Jung-woo wanted certainty. From the moment he first realized what day it was, he already knew that he wouldn’t be able to achieve the record. Now that even the variables have disappeared, the no-hitter will be broken no matter what. So now, all that’s left is for Lee Jung-woo himself to achieve what he aimed for.

The lead widens little by little.

The face of the first baseman, who followed him with a hollow gaze, began to crack little by little.

‘Do you really have to go that far?’

It was as if the first baseman was asking the pitcher, who had already admitted defeat, if he had to be so cruel. Lee Jung-woo willingly answered that question.

‘Of course.’

[Lee, runs!]

A surprise steal to second base.

The catcher barely caught the ball that the pitcher threw far away, but…

[In the end – he couldn’t throw it.]

[It’s a wise choice, the timing is already way too late, and if there’s a throwing error…]

Even if the no-hitter was broken, the no-run would have been broken for sure.

The commentator, who barely swallowed the last words, looked at Lee Jung-woo with an even deeper gaze than before.

A shortstop player in the top of the 7th, a position that consumes a lot of stamina. The sight of him stealing bases, even though he clearly didn’t have much energy left, felt a bit shocking even to him, who had a lot of experience.

In this steal, he could feel three things: Lee Jung-woo’s running ability, the timing or brain to read the atmosphere, and thoroughness. Lee Jung-woo’s steal now was like forcibly dragging a death row inmate who had been sentenced to death and putting him in an electric chair. It erased even the last remaining uncertainty.

Seeing such a sight directly, he now seemed to know.

Why Lee Jung-woo’s fans or enemies call him a machine.

[…Amazing.]

Lee Jung-woo, who lightly stepped on second base as if entering his own home, was even stared at by the second base umpire with a slightly dumbfounded look. Lee Jung-woo, who straightened out his crumpled clothes, took the same pose as before with a clean face as if he had never run.

‘It’s still a bit hard. My stamina has dropped a lot.’

However, that was just on the outside. On the inside, the nausea that had risen to his chin was tormenting him. Lee Jung-woo didn’t show it, in order to maintain the intimidation he had taken from the pitcher.

The cleaner he looked, the greater the fear the Rockies would feel.

Lee Jung-woo was not a machine, as the commentator and people thought or expected. He knew how to understand and use the emotions that other people felt. Therefore, unlike a machine that only seeks the optimal number, he sometimes had the option of gambling.

Just like now.

“Wow…”

One spectator, who had been desperately hoping for and cheering for Peter Henson’s no-hitter deep in his heart until the walk, now naturally opened his mouth and admired.

What caught his eyes was not the pitcher’s overwhelming pitching that he had seen so far. In the first place, the two pitches thrown by the pitcher, who had barely managed to calm his mind, did not even enter his eyes.

What made him admire was just one step forward taken by the runner on second base.

That one action, which comes out several times in every game, attracted his eyes. Perhaps even the eyes of countless others.

“Safe.”

[3rd base…steal.]

[The catcher couldn’t throw the ball this time either. Right now… he just lost the timing.]

Stealing third base.

The catcher just got up from his seat like before, holding the ball tightly in his hand.

If the action in the previous steal to second base was a ‘judgment’ made because it was too late to barely catch the ball that was too dirty.

Now he just couldn’t throw it. He couldn’t throw the ball. He just moved his lips and only looked at the tip of his foot touching third base.

“Hoo… Hoo…”

Lee Jung-woo, now breathing heavily without hiding it. There was no need to pretend anymore. He had already shown more than enough. He didn’t have the luxury to do so either.

After inhaling the thin air several times, dozens of times more, Lee Jung-woo straightened his back again and looked around the ground, the stadium.

Just like the pitcher who witnessed the foul home run a while ago. Now, Lee Jung-woo himself was in tens of thousands of eyes.

‘I’m satisfied with this.’

The game was broken.

####

“You’re really not normal either.”

Stewart shook his head, feeling the cold air full of shoulders. Monster, monster, it was an expression that had become stale from hearing it so often. He couldn’t help but understand why the Braves fans called this guy that.

Although there was a slight difference in skill and performance, Stewart was also a pitcher, so he could tell what that bastard, Lee Jung-woo, had done to the opposing pitcher. He planted explosives in the solid castle wall and suddenly blew it up. At a timing no one expected.

You could tell just by looking at the score of 2 to 1 on the scoreboard.

“Why don’t you throw one more inning? I think you can be the winning pitcher.”

Lee Jung-woo, who laughed off Stewart’s gaze, was limp like boiled green onion [very tired].

The fatigue was coming all at once, and even he himself thought he had done something unusual.

“I told you to be careful, but you just don’t listen. Are you okay? You look very tired. Should I tell the manager to replace you?”

The hitting coach, who looked down at Lee Jung-woo, also glared at him with a dumbfounded look. Lee Jung-woo shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

“I only look like this on the outside, I’m fine. And it’s a game I created, so I have to finish it properly.”

“Now you’re not even pretending to be humble? I like it very much. That’s what the Braves are all about.”

The hitting coach, who eventually chuckled at his joke, patted him on the shoulder as if he was proud and left. Although it was number 3 hitter Joey who recorded the tying hit, and number 4 hitter Peterson who hit the come-from-behind hit, everyone knew.

From where the game started to turn around. The players around Lee Jung-woo, who proudly said that, couldn’t hide their laughter either.

The atmosphere softened like Lee Jung-woo, who was stretched out.

Now the entire Braves had the same goal as Lee Jung-woo.

Winning the game.

The goal of defeating the no-hitter was already broken. The bullpen [relief pitchers], which was put in for the newly created goal, cleanly erased the innings that followed even in the harsh conditions of Coors Field [home field of the Colorado Rockies, known for being hitter-friendly due to its altitude].

If the Braves’ momentum was bright and sunny like this,

On the contrary, the Rockies looked like they were watching a gloomy funeral.

“Damn it…”

“It’s like X, really.”

“It’s all because of that damn bastard…”

Now that the no-hitter record was broken, no one could shout loudly, and the spectators just looked down at the game with stiff faces. They wanted to throw away this damn feeling right now, leave the stadium, and drink a lot of alcohol, but.

[Ah… In the top of the 8th inning, in the Braves’ attack – starting pitcher Peter Henson is still coming to the mound. He’s not being replaced?]

[It’s probably the pitcher’s request. The club has no reason to overwork the starting pitcher.]

[It’s pride.]

Because Peter Henson, who made everyone’s hearts in Coors Field and Denver flutter today, came to the mound in the 8th inning as well. The spectators couldn’t leave the stadium. At least they wanted to stay until the end and say that he had worked hard, no matter what the result of the game was.

And passionate applause poured out for him, who erased the Braves’ attack in the top of the 8th inning, which continued from 7-8-9 with KKK [strikeout]. Before finishing the inning and returning to the dugout, the spectators who suddenly felt choked up shouted loudly at his action of taking off his hat and slightly bowing his head.

“Peter! You’re the best!”

“Yeah! X, we haven’t lost yet! The game’s not over! We just need to win!”

“Let’s go to the end! We’ll stay until the end too!”

The record was already gone, and the victory of the game was uncertain, but as they said, the last hope remained. This is Coors Field, the mecca of Colorado baseball. A mere 1-point difference is a daily occurrence that changes as soon as you close and open your eyes.

So the possibility of victory has not completely disappeared yet. The spectators were still in their seats and did not give up hope until the end, but.

“X, get tired, get tired! Are you a human? Are you human!”

“Stop it! You X bastard!”

In order to blow away even that last possibility, Lee Jung-woo, who was still flying around in the defense without change, was still there. The home fans poured out curses with a feeling of spitting blood at him for picking up the well-hit ball.

The voices of them, who had cleanly forgotten the awkwardness before the game, stabbed him, but Lee Jung-woo didn’t even listen to it as he always had. He just did his job.

After the attack at the end of the 8th inning ended in vain like that.

As the long-awaited top of the 9th inning approached, the spectators swallowed their saliva.

And this time as well, when Peter Henson came to the mound, the home fans who saw it could confirm that his thoughts were the same as theirs.

“Let’s go for a complete game win!”

“KKK! KKK!”

“There’s still the bottom of the 9th inning left! If we stop it this time and come from behind, it’s over!”

The noise made by people who were red-faced and straining their vocal cords to the point of overusing their vocal cords echoed loudly through Coors Field. Peter Henson, who walked in with a confident stride as if responding to it, looked as neat as he did in the beginning of the game on the outside.

A pitcher who came up to the end of the regular inning for his own pride and the Rockies’ pride.

In modern baseball, where more systematic management has been introduced, a starting pitcher’s complete game is avoided. The value and emotion have not diminished. Rockies fans with tearful faces and sparkling eyes. In front of their eyes, with the expectation of maybe?

That damn evil villain appeared again.

‘A complete game, is that the next best thing? I also want to put a winner behind it.’

Lee Jung-woo understood too. The pitcher’s feelings. Although there was a gap between the sky and the earth, he had been a pitcher for a long time.

He knew how strong the pride of the starting pitchers was, how strong that pride was. Even that desire forces the already worn-out body to move.

‘But you have to face reality.’

A pitcher who is already very tired. Even the atmosphere that had continued the record until the 7th inning had disappeared. The pitcher, who was seen without the touching story and desperation, was never a threatening opponent.

Because Derek, the number 1 hitter who was the leadoff in this inning and had been blocked after the walk, easily hit the pitcher’s ball and went out [got on base].

‘The speed is 88 miles. It’s definitely already the limit.’

A situation where there was a runner.

As Lee Jung-woo came to the plate again, boos followed. People made gorilla noises as if they had become gorillas, trying to kill his spirit somehow. The pitcher also tried to shake off the fear he had already felt deeply by making eye contact even by force, but.

‘No way.’

Lee Jung-woo made sure that the pitcher, who had already reached his limit, would not be greedy anymore.

I cut off his breath directly.

Bang-

The first pitch thrown with all the strength he had left. Lee Jung-woo lightly hit the 117th ball of the starting pitcher in this game.

The concentration that had surrounded him and exceeded the limit had long since scattered, and his body was very tired from running around here and there. It didn’t matter.

‘It’s much harder over there than it is for me.’

The ball, which had lost its weight, changed its course almost as soon as it grazed the bat.

The batted ball flew in a similar course to the foul home run. But this time it didn’t cross the foul line.

‘It’s over.’

Season 13 home run. After it crossed the fence. Lee Jung-woo didn’t even do a ceremony, didn’t even make a happy expression. He just calmly turned the base as if it was a very natural result. Even that was enough to make him angry. Even so, the Rockies glared at Lee Jung-woo, who came home and high-fived his teammates with a boiling heart.

A player who ruined all the great dreams and expectations that the Rockies had in this game.

As he had already decided on his own, Lee Jung-woo was the most hated person in this game.