Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 2

Pitcher Done, Batter Up – Part 1 (2/287)

South Atlantic League.

Rome Braves versus Lexington Legends.

It was a Single A game, and the score difference was significant, but it was a weekend game, so there were quite a few spectators in the small stadium.

Rather than supporting a particular team, it was more like families coming out for a weekend outing.

Top of the 8th inning. An overwhelming score difference of 12 to 1.

With the game practically over, a new pitcher stood on the mound.

Jungwoo Lee. At 6’2″ and 192lbs, he wasn’t particularly large for a pitcher, and he slowly threw practice pitches.

‘What the hell is going on?’

He was a bit confused.

He didn’t know what was happening.

After a year of rehab, he was back to being battered like when he first returned.

If it was a dream, it was a very vivid and long one. Probably a nightmare.

Because he was going to get beaten to a pulp again.

Repeating that was just a nightmare.

‘Did I really regress? Is this reality?’

Did he die and go to hell?

Was going back to the hardest time his punishment?

He thought he had lived a pretty decent life.

‘Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve been on this mound.’

Tossing his head, he was suddenly thrilled by the long-lost sensation.

Unlike the soft Korean mounds influenced by Japan.

The American mounds are hard.

That gives a certain feeling.

It felt like he had really flown into another world called America, the Majors, and the Minors.

‘Okay, good. If it’s a real regression, I can change it. I can do better.’

Lee Jungwoo muttered to himself, steeling his resolve.

He was going to throw the ball since he was on the mound.

He had always done that.

No matter the situation or condition, he threw the ball.

And he had some confidence too.

Unlike then, he now had a lot of experience.

‘Well, most of it was getting brutally beaten, though.’

Anyway, if he pitched based on that experience.

Maybe he could change the outcome.

He wanted to believe that.

‘Top of the 8th, 7th batter, Lexington. Maybe the sixth game?’

He still remembered.

He remembered all the games where he got hammered after his return.

After getting injured and completing rehab.

Lee Jungwoo was thoroughly pounded during his comeback season.

The sixth game was the worst.

That’s why it was more memorable.

‘I don’t know why I came back, but I’ll just do what I have to do.’

Lee Jungwoo whispered to himself, as if comforting himself. He finished his practice throws, as he always did.

Thanks to the bullpen pitching he had diligently done while feeling bewildered, his shoulder was warmed up enough.

He looked at the catcher.

‘Was it Patrick Robinson? It’s been a while, you too.’

Patrick Robinson.

The Rome Braves’ starting catcher.

He remembered him as a decent guy.

Around this time, he went up to Double A and they didn’t work together anymore.

He wasn’t a great hitter, so he didn’t make it to the Majors and they never saw each other again.

But he was still a decent catcher.

The catcher seemed to think that Lee Jungwoo, who was staring at him silently, was nervous.

He smiled gently and tapped his glove, then sent a sign.

A guy who knew how to calm a pitcher.

Lee Jungwoo nodded at his sign.

‘Right-handed batter, I don’t remember his batting average. 2 hits in 4 at-bats this game. Both singles, but I guess he’s in good condition.’

He didn’t remember any other information.

He could only know what he saw.

‘He’s underestimating me. Well, I guess he would. The me at this time.’

The batter looked relaxed.

He was ignoring him.

Considering his terrible record, it was understandable, so he wasn’t particularly angry.

Lee Jungwoo wound up with a blank expression, as always.

A deep breath. And pitching.

“Hoo-”

The ball thrown from his ordinary and bland three-quarter pitching form was a two-seam fastball.

The ball flew with force and changed direction in front of the batter.

‘Good, it felt good.’

The first pitch, thrown with great care, went into the catcher’s mitt.

Ball. It was a shame he didn’t get a strike, but the ball landed where he wanted it to.

At least his control wasn’t bad.

No, his control was always good.

It was the velocity and power that were the problem.

’82 miles, the ball is still the same…’

82mph (132km/h). Considering he used to throw up to 95mph (153km/h) before the injury, it was far short of that. But he was calm. He had been throwing like this for over a decade, so he was used to it.

‘I thought it would get better. That it would come back over time. But it stayed the same forever.’

The ball didn’t get better over time.

So, the Atlanta Braves, who had given him many opportunities even after his injury, completely gave up on him. He tried changing his pitching form and widening his stride,

But nothing worked.

That’s why Lee Jungwoo quickly focused.

‘I just need to throw as best as I can right now. Without obsessing over the impossible.’

Lee Jungwoo looked at the catcher again.

He had slightly missed the first pitch to test the waters. What about this time?

The catcher spread his fingers wide.

Lee Jungwoo nodded with his usual blank expression.

The catcher’s choice was to attack.

‘He’s going to get a count with a four-seamer, not bad.’

“Hoo-”

He bit down as if he would shatter his molars.

Four-seam. Lee Jungwoo only threw two-seamers before his injury.

But he newly installed it as a weapon while rehabbing because the power of his two-seamer had decreased.

His body was still unfamiliar with it since he hadn’t learned it long ago.

But mentally, Lee Jungwoo skillfully threw it as if he had been throwing it for a long time.

The ball shot from his textbook stance flew outside the zone.

‘I felt it again.’

The touch at his fingertips felt good.

At least it wasn’t a mistake.

The result was good too.

“Strike!”

“I didn’t swing?”

“Yeah, but it came in.”

The batter grumbled at the umpire’s call and stepped back.

‘Okay.’

Checked swing.

But it was in the zone.

The batter tapped his head with his bat as if he was sorry.

He must be angry at himself for missing a good ball.

‘It wasn’t a swing, but I still got the count.’

Not a bad result.

But he was worried about the ball.

’84 miles, this is still the same.’

He was hoping, but as expected, the four-seamer was bland too.

And unlike his mind, his body wasn’t used to it, so his control was a bit shaky.

It would have been called a ball if it had gone out a little more.

Otherwise, the batter wouldn’t have swung fully.

Even in Single A, there are a lot of guys with overflowing power.

Slow and bland balls can always fly over the fence.

‘If it gets caught, it’ll go over.’

Perhaps that was conveyed to the catcher as well.

The catcher called for a low curve that fell outside the zone.

A breaking ball that he had always reliably used as a finisher before his injury.

He had been throwing it diligently even when he was wandering around after his injury.

Lee Jungwoo rubbed the rosin bag and whispered.

‘You feel it too.’

After muttering like a magic spell, he gripped the ball.

The grip was typical.

Whether it was because his hand had a good feel or because his touch had good power.

Before his injury, the ball always spun properly and drew the batter’s bat.

He threw it with all his might.

‘Good, I felt it again.’

As if hearing his whisper.

The curve went to the desired location, but the batter wasn’t fooled.

73mph. Slow, bland, and the break came too early.

Since it was going low on purpose, the batter didn’t even flinch.

‘At this point, I guess everything is bad.’

That made it one and two [one ball and two strikes].

A slightly advantageous count for the batter.

The pitcher is under a lot of pressure because he usually has to go in to get a strike.

But Jungwoo acted calmly.

He had been through too much to be happy or sad about one count.

‘What are you going to do? Are you going to go in to get it? Or are you going to miss again?’

He asked the catcher with his eyes.

His choice was a low changeup.

He wanted to miss one more time because the momentum wasn’t good.

It was a good lead, but Lee Jungwoo shook his head for the first time.

‘I definitely got it over the fence back then. He scooped it up cleanly.’

As I said, this was the most shocking time in his life, so he remembered everything.

The changeup he threw to deceive the batter led to a solo home run.

He threw it low, but the ball was so bad that the batter just scooped it up and hit it over.

‘Let’s just go with the four-seamer.’

Slow and quick.

It wasn’t a changeup, but he had shown a slow ball, so he was going to go in quickly.

Perhaps realizing Lee Jungwoo’s thoughts, the catcher sent a four-seam sign,

And this time he nodded.

He wound up fiercely.

The leg that stepped out wide. The rotating right arm. The fingers pushing the ball. The movements were perfectly connected.

Then the opposing batter’s eyes sparkled.

“Heu-ah!”

The lower body moved naturally. The waist rotated powerfully following it. A heavy swing. Thanks to his long experience, he instinctively realized.

“Ah….”

That he was screwed.

A clear sound, as if he wanted to make it his ringtone, echoed through the stadium.

He let out a faint sigh.

He knew where that would fly. What results it would create.

It would change the number 12 on the scoreboard to 13.

It was a meaningless solo home run that didn’t affect the game.

But it gave the pitcher enough of a shock.

The catcher got up and hit his chest with his glove as if it was his fault,

But Lee Jungwoo wasn’t stupid.

He was the one who chose the four-seamer, he was the one who threw it, and he was the one who got hit.

‘My ball was bad. It wasn’t the changeup that was the problem. It was just a home run that was going to be hit no matter what.’

The four-seamer went in bland and slow as always.

To the batter who had timed it, it was just batting practice.

It didn’t matter if it was a changeup or a four-seamer.

It would have been the same even if he had thrown a curve or a two-seamer.

It was just that Lee Jungwoo’s skill as a pitcher was only good enough to get a home run from that batter.

He realized it after a long time.

‘He’s just hitting it over.’

If his power was a little better. If his velocity was even 3 miles faster.

Would the result have been different?

‘No, that’s meaningless.’

Lee Jungwoo, stomping on the mound, bit his lip.

He knew now. That he couldn’t change anything.

Since his main body’s skill hadn’t changed.

The result wouldn’t be different either.

No matter how much experience he gained. No matter how much his mind matured.

His current skill wouldn’t change.

‘Hoo. This isn’t going to be easy again.’

####

“Lee, let’s just stop here. It’s natural for your game sense to be off since it’s your first season back. It’ll get better over time, so don’t worry too much.”

“Yes, I guess so.”

He was taken off the mound.

Again.

‘It was six games in a row. Probably.’

If he remembered correctly, he had been taken off the mound in the previous five games as well.

So this was the sixth time.

Six consecutive games of being taken off the mound was not an easy record.

The same goes for getting hit by two home runs in one inning.

But what hurt more than those things was that, unlike what the pitching coach said.

His game sense was at its peak. His condition was the best it could be. It was the best it had been since his injury, before his regression.

This was just… the best he could do.

Even if more time passed, it wouldn’t change much.

Lee Jungwoo knew that.

‘It’s really over.’

He now calmly admitted it.

He desperately didn’t want to admit it. But not anymore.

His ball didn’t work even in Single A.

It didn’t work in the KBO [Korean Baseball Organization] either.

Nothing had changed, he couldn’t change anything.

Pitcher Lee Jungwoo was done.

That’s just how it was.

After the game, when everyone was packing their bags.

Lee Jungwoo sat on the bench and lowered his head silently.

No one approached him.

Not many people were brave enough to talk to a pitcher who was more desperate than anyone else after giving up 6 runs with two home runs.

Of course, contrary to what people thought, he wasn’t despairing or anything.

He had already expected it anyway.

‘I knew it anyway. That I would get brutally beaten. I’m just a little disappointed. I don’t know if it’s a dream or a real regression.’

He wanted to change it even a little bit.

But neither the game’s results nor his slumped body had changed at all.

“Good job. You just finished rehab, it would be weird if you were good right away. You can take your time.”

The pitching coach approached and comforted him.

He had helped him with his rehab during the past difficult times at the request of Lee Jungwoo and the club, which had poured a lot of money into bringing in the promising player and couldn’t just abandon him. He knew how frustrated this young pitcher must be. So he comforted him as if it was nothing.

But Lee Jungwoo shook his head.

‘Let’s stop. I know what’s going to happen in the future.’

The remaining path was full of thorns.

Being in tatters once was enough.

He didn’t want to be tied to something that couldn’t be done anymore.

Maybe this was what it was teaching him.

To give up because it wasn’t going to work anyway.

“Thank you for your help, Coach.”

“Lee!”

The coach urgently called him, seeing that he was about to end it all.

He was a player who was too good to end like this.

Anyone who had seen him before his injury would feel the same way.

It wasn’t just about pitching.

He was a player with natural athletic ability.

“I know because it’s my body. This is the best I can do. That’s just… how it is.”

The pitching coach looked at him silently.

When silence flowed with the end of a pitcher.

The hitting coach, who had been glaring at the hitters who were much lacking compared to the opponent, turned his gaze slightly. He silently watched the heartbreaking scene.

He clearly saw new possibilities in his eyes.