Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 209

Pitcher Over, Batter Up (2) -208

As the game neared its end and the record loomed incredibly close, the crowd was ecstatic, yet also filled with a nervous anticipation at the prospect of witnessing history being made.

[Lee ties the record for most RBIs in the first half with a solo home run! A record that stood for 100 years!]

[30% Average, 30 Home Runs, 100 RBIs? Lee Jung-woo is on the verge of achieving this milestone in the first half!]

[‘A feat 100 years in the making’ – catching up to Hank Greenberg! Is Lee’s goal this season 200 (Hits) – 200 (RBIs)?]

– Honestly, I was a little worried when he came out with a different bat. But that was dumb. It’s Lee, isn’t it? I should just trust him, no matter what happened in his previous at-bat.

– Real talent is real talent. Seriously, he hits a home run with a bat he doesn’t usually use. Unbelievable.

– Is this really a second-year player? No, wait, was he originally a pitcher? Is that even true? I still can’t believe it.

The long-awaited 29th home run was amazing, but this time, tying Hank Greenberg’s 1935 record for the most RBIs in the first half garnered even more attention.

Even though RBIs aren’t valued as highly as they once were in baseball analytics, this achievement was still extraordinary.

Arthur Hunter in second place and Vincent Harding in third were showcasing their incredible RBI production with 89 and 86 RBIs respectively, but Lee was still leading by a significant margin of more than 10. His RBI prowess had been a constant source of amazement.

Even last year, when he debuted in June and missed several games due to the Asian Games, he still racked up 120 RBIs, which became a defining characteristic for him, making this achievement even more impressive.

– I already knew Lee was good at getting RBIs, but this is a seriously broken ability. Hey, haters, yeah, you’re right, Lee is definitely cheating. There’s no other way he could be putting up these numbers.

– I remember it clearly from when I was twelve. I was living in Detroit back then. It was amazing to watch Miguel Cabrera [“Miggy,” a famous baseball player] get 30 home runs and 90 RBIs in the first half. He ended up with 95 RBIs. But Lee is doing even better than that?

– What are we supposed to call a player like this? Genius? Monster? God?

– Let’s call him a god. That’s the closest thing.

Beyond just online fans, even former Major Leaguers and baseball analysts didn’t hesitate to praise him in interviews.

[‘A RBI machine sent by the baseball gods’ – The most threatening player in Major League history!]

[‘Does he remind me of Barry Bonds [a controversial but talented baseball player]? Well, I can’t say for sure since I’ve never faced him myself, but he’s definitely not lacking.’ – Greg Maddux speaks about Lee.]

[‘He’s incredibly aggressive, plays like Ty Cobb [an old-time player known for his high batting average and aggressive style], and hits home runs like Babe Ruth [arguably the most famous baseball player of all time].’ – Chipper Jones praises Lee Jung-woo!]

– Even for a Braves player, isn’t this going too far? Hey, Chipper. You’re crossing the line right now.

– What’s crossing the line? Isn’t the record good enough to warrant that kind of praise?

– The Braves are going too far. I get that you’re happy, but how dare you compare our guy to those two?

– Yeah, I was wondering when that would come up. You freaking racists.

– Just ignore them; it just means Lee is doing so well that they can’t think of anything else besides race. They’re just jealous.

Some people praised him by comparing him to legends of the past. That’s how it had always been, but what was a little different this time was that the comparisons were reaching further back in time. They were even mentioning players from the dead-ball era [early 20th century, characterized by low scoring and different playing styles], not just the live-ball era [post-1920, with more emphasis on power hitting].

Especially those who had been with the Braves in the past often mentioned Babe Ruth, who had been discussed since the called home run incident, or Ty Cobb, who was being talked about because of his batting average until the end of the first half. They were comparing Lee Jung-woo to figures who were practically sacred in American baseball, praising his incredible performance.

Some angry fans would occasionally criticize them, but even they were quickly silenced by the Braves fans, who had long since gone wild.

– A-class, no, even top-class players barely manage 30 home runs and 100 RBIs in a whole season, and Lee is doing it in half a season.

– Strictly speaking, the first half is longer, so it’s not exactly half a season… but it’s still unbelievable.

– Yeah, I prefer this. It’s not that our Phillies are weak; it’s just that this damn Asian guy is ridiculously good. We just got beat by a ridiculously good player!

– No, the Phillies are weak. You guys just suck. Especially against our Braves.

– You’re praising the yellow guy you love so much, and you’re still complaining? You damn, rotten Atlanta fans.

Even the Phillie fans, who hated Lee Jung-woo so much that they wanted to tear him limb from limb because he kept beating them, were now expressing pure admiration. The topic soon shifted to the MVP [Most Valuable Player] award.

It was a little early to be talking about it since the first half was just about to end, but he was so dominant that people couldn’t help but be interested.

– Hunter and Harding fans, honestly, don’t you have to admit it by now? Screw the race, the MVP is already decided.

– I want to tell you to go fuck yourself, but it’s hard to argue with that now. But the season is long. There are still games left. Harding is a slow starter.

– Ugh, I just don’t know. I like Hunter, and I’ll keep liking him. Because he’s the best player. But… I can’t guarantee he’s the best this year.

– Unless he gets into a car accident and misses like 40 games… the MVP is pretty much decided.

Those who were initially angry that a mere second-year rookie was being compared to their favorite player were now backing down.

Thus, the wildfire that had engulfed the league with the addition of a single home run grew even larger, along with even greater expectations.

####

“Excuse me, can I get an autograph…”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Lee. I don’t have any paper on me right now, but if it’s possible, could I get your autograph on a napkin?”

“My son is a fan of yours; could I get your autograph on this ball? Oh, just your name is fine. Just Lee’s autograph, please. And if possible, today’s date too…”

Amidst the frenzy, the surrounding players chuckled as they watched Lee Jung-woo munch on the hotel breakfast that had been prepared according to his dietary needs.

People were clamoring for Lee Jung-woo’s autograph, presenting everything from baseballs, autograph paper, uniforms, and T-shirts to even napkins in their haste.

In the United States, even the most famous celebrities usually have their privacy respected, so people usually don’t ask for autographs in these situations, but today was different.

“Why are they doing that?”

“Today might be the historic moment he hits his 30th home run and gets his 104th RBI. They’re trying to get his autograph in advance.”

“That guy who got an autograph for his son earlier, he didn’t look like he had a son who was old enough to like baseball. Maybe he got married early?”

“No way, he’s 100% a reseller. He said he was going to give it to his son, but he didn’t even say his son’s name, and he even asked for the date.”

“But why did you give him the autograph?”

“What else can I do? You never know for sure until you see it. We’ll know later when we check the auction sites.”

At Lee Jung-woo’s nonchalant words, the players clicked their tongues. It was a common occurrence. Most Major Leaguers encounter their autographed items on auction sites about once a month.

However, today was a little different. Perhaps because a few league records might be broken, even New York citizens who didn’t like the Braves wanted Lee Jung-woo’s autograph, excluding those resellers.

But Lee Jung-woo didn’t dwell on the motivations of those seeking his autograph. He had more pressing concerns.

‘My body doesn’t feel good. Was I too tense yesterday? I feel a bit stiff.’

The aftermath of yesterday’s game, where unconscious pressure and stress caused his body to tense up, was now making itself known. As the tension eased and his stiff body relaxed, it left behind something akin to muscle soreness.

Even for a Major Leaguer, it’s impossible to always be in top condition, and today was definitely not a good day.

‘I need to get it checked out, but it doesn’t feel good.’

Nevertheless, Lee Jung-woo, who had neatly devoured two plates of breakfast to replenish his energy, soon went to see the medical staff.

“Your body is under a lot of strain. It’s not accumulated fatigue, but you’ve suddenly built up a lot of it.”

“Yeah, I think I was a little more tense than I thought yesterday. Is it serious?”

“Not really, but we might have to worry about a cold. The temperature is a bit low while your body is still tense.”

‘The weather is also a problem. Compared to Phoenix and Miami, New York is a bit chilly.’

At the doctor’s words, Lee Jung-woo finally realized the reason for his declining condition. In addition to the constant tension in his body, the lower temperature in New York compared to the places he had been to so far was also a factor.

‘It wasn’t hot. For July, anyway. Well, Miami and Phoenix are just too extreme.’

Even though it was the same Eastern Division, New York was located further north, so even though it was summer, the temperature was significantly different compared to Atlanta, his home, or Miami, where he had been two days ago.

In Miami, the average temperature was slightly higher than average at around 33 degrees Celsius [91 degrees Fahrenheit] throughout the series. Yesterday in New York, it was definitely cooler than that.

‘About 26 degrees Celsius [79 degrees Fahrenheit]. It’s not low, but the difference is significant. It’s a difference of 7 degrees.’

“Since it’s an evening game today, make sure to wear a jacket whenever you’re not in play. Records and stats are important, but your physical condition is always the top priority. You know that, right?”

“I know that very well.”

“I’ll give you some sports drinks; drink them warm and consistently. Keep drinking them during the game too. The best thing would be not to play, but if you don’t want to do that, then there’s no other way but to stay hydrated.”

With that, Lee Jung-woo, who had received an armful of lukewarm drinks from the doctor, sighed softly. It seemed like today would be a bit tough as well, just like yesterday.

‘The good thing is that, unlike yesterday, I know the reason from the start.’

Still, it was better than not even being able to guess the problem, so Lee Jung-woo forced himself to change his mood and thought.

‘I should borrow a few bats from Rollins.’

Following the last at-bat the day before, it seemed like he would have to borrow a few bats again today because there was a high possibility that his body would be a bit slow again.

Also, it wasn’t too awkward, and the home run from yesterday showed that it was quite effective, so Lee Jung-woo’s decision was firm.

‘Is it because they’re the same brand? It’s better than I thought. Should I try getting used to lighter bats next time, like the experts say? It seems like they could be useful sometimes.’

####

[He barely touched it! The umpire’s call is – Strike! Looking strikeout!]

[It’s the opposite of yesterday. The Mets are consistently challenging him on the outside with breaking balls.]

‘Yeah, of course they’d come out like this.’

The second game that everyone had been waiting for. Lee Jung-woo chewed on his lip, just like yesterday. He had gone to the trouble of compensating for his poor physical condition with a shorter bat, but the opponent had responded with a textbook approach.

‘Attacking the outside. No, have the Mets pitchers always had this good of control?’

A thorough attack on the outside. Balls that barely touched the edge, taking advantage of his usual and short bat length, as if they were teasing him. He wondered if this was really the same Mets he knew, the Mets he had faced so far, with such accurate control.

In response, Lee Jung-woo also took out the bat he usually used, but the opponent also threw only fastballs after that, so his worries deepened even further.

‘Just go with the original plan. With my current physical condition, the original bat is too slow. It’s better to hope one comes inside and increase my bat speed.’

After making a decision based on the lesson he learned after being shut down for three at-bats, Lee Jung-woo chuckled at the faces of the spectators that flashed by.

It was a similar situation, but the reaction was different. The day before, when Lee Jung-woo was struggling, the spectators were elated even though the team was losing, but today their eyes were shaking violently.

Having been hit hard after being so relieved, it was only natural that they couldn’t let their guard down. They had witnessed with their own eyes that he could somehow hit a home run no matter how bad the conditions were.

‘They’re expecting so much; I have to meet those expectations. But maybe it’s because I’ve been replenishing my fluids and moving my body, but my physical condition is improving as time goes on. Not by much, but enough to come up with some kind of trick.’

Lee Jung-woo didn’t want to postpone the 30th home run and the establishment of a new RBI record until the third game, the last game. He was planning to settle it today, in the second game. With that in mind, he swept the ground, and the bodies of the Mets players who met his eyes flinched for a moment.

If the previous Lee Jung-woo was like an oppressive tyrant, today he felt less intimidating, but his aura felt sharper, like a wounded beast. Everyone knew that just one opportunity, just one time, would be enough. And they also knew that his claws were sharp enough to seize the opportunity when it came.

And as everyone expected, it was revealed at the decisive moment.

####

[Derek Hunt! A three-run home run sweeps all the runners! The Braves take the lead again!]

[That was a clutch home run. He’s definitely a player who knows how to hit one when it matters.]

Top of the 7th inning. Fourth at-bat.

This time, there were no runners on base.

The previous batter, Derek, had hit a home run, clearing the bases. And when the next batter appeared, those who had been gathered together, shouting at the top of their lungs, started up again.

“That’s right! This is even better! Let’s go back-to-back!”

“Let’s show them what the Braves are all about!”

Hoping for everything that came after back-to-back home runs, people shouted. And Lee Jung-woo drew a smile on his lips, as if to reassure them. Perhaps it was because of that smile that the pitcher was immediately changed, and the atmosphere, which had been dizzy from the unexpected home run, tightened up again.

[Here he comes. Jung-woo Lee, fourth at-bat this game.]

[He seemed a little disappointing today, just like yesterday, but he has consistently hit foul balls, continuing to show that his hitting feel is still there.]

[That’s why the Mets are changing pitchers.]

In the face of the influence that quickly swept through the stadium, it felt overwhelming. A player who dominated everything simply with his presence when he appeared even felt like a natural disaster to the home crowd.

“Ugh, why can the same batter come up to bat again and again in baseball?”

“Snap out of it. Don’t talk nonsense.”

It was so suffocating that they even asked fundamental questions about baseball. And within all those eyes, Lee Jung-woo took his stance.

‘Compared to usual, it’s about 80%. Strength and bat speed are both a little lacking. I can make up for the speed with the bat, but the power is still a bit short. I need to increase the launch angle [the angle at which the ball leaves the bat] a little more than usual. To do that…’

He envisioned the perfect swing in his head. He simulated it countless times. Instead of his body, which wasn’t keeping up as well as he thought, he relied on his mind.

He had already gone through three at-bats, but in his head, there were far more at-bats than that.

Fastball, breaking ball, pitch mix, location. Lee Jung-woo, who had come to the plate anticipating all possible situations, looked up at the mound again. His mind went cold.

Anything more than this was unnecessary.

‘There’s still a chance this time. All that’s left is to execute.’

Perhaps because of the home run he had hit right in the solar plexus yesterday, the catcher was keeping his mouth shut today, so he was able to be much more calm mentally. That’s why he poured all his focus on the pitcher.

[There’s a sense of tension. I dare to guess, but I think this might be the most decisive moment.]

At this point, even the viewers could tell that the atmosphere was unusual. The pitcher, who had finished his practice pitches, was now biting his lip, unlike before. He was desperately seeking an answer.

With the umpire’s declaration of play, the game was replayed. The pitcher stared intently at the catcher, seeking an answer. And what came in was a ball on the outside corner, just like before.

‘Ball.’

“Ball.”

Perhaps because of the concentration that had been built up step by step, now reaching its peak, Lee Jung-woo carefully examined the ball with his keen eye.

‘No, not yet.’

He let go of the ball that the catcher had thrown as if to tempt him, even a pretty good pitch, up to 5 pitches, a full count, choosing the best pitch with the precision of a master craftsman.

[It’s a decisive situation.]

[Maybe the Mets will walk him.]

It was a situation where even an intentional walk was conceivable. He had battled hard enough, so no one would criticize him if he was walked. That’s why the catcher didn’t hesitate and decisively signaled the pitcher.

[6th pitch, pitcher winds up – throws!]

This time as well, a low ball to the outside. Watching the cutter [a type of fastball that breaks slightly] that fell sharply, Lee Jung-woo immediately estimated the location. The catcher mumbled.

‘Don’t feel bad. We did our best.’

A pitch that had no chance of being a strike. A pitch that was guaranteed to be a ball. Shaking off a strange feeling of unease, the catcher prepared to catch the ball.

At that moment, at the edge of his vision, on the edge of Lee Jung-woo’s profile that was in his line of sight, a faint line appeared. His eyes became dull, like those of a dead fish.

“Ah…”

A thunderous swing. Watching the gesture of pulling the ball along with the bat, the catcher thought, ‘Where have I seen something similar to that before?’ A short moment of less than a second felt like an eternity. After a long thought, he soon realized.

‘I saw it last year.’

A recklessly destructive full swing that he could see in Lee Jung-woo from last year, when he was still inexperienced. An extreme uppercut swing like a golfer, which had once earned him the embarrassing nickname of Third Guerrero [referencing Vladimir Guerrero, a player known for hitting pitches outside the strike zone].

A lack of physical condition. The resulting decrease in power and bat speed. The answer to the decline in overall hitting ability. It had been pushed aside by the newly installed rolling stone, but it was still a trace of the past that remained in his body.