Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 252

Pitcher done, batter up -251

Just like the visiting fans, Atlanta’s fans were once again reminded of how awful Marlins Park was, expressing both admiration and lament.

“It’s going! It’s going! It’s go- SON OF A… !”

“Ah, why is it so far! Is this a baseball field? Is this a baseball field? Quit baseball and play football!”

“Why the Marlins sons of bitches don’t build a new stadium! They have such a small payroll, where are they spending all their money!”

The inside of the bar was filled with all sorts of shouts, and the remnants spilled by people flailing their beer-filled hands in uncontrollable anger soaked the floor, further provoking the bartender’s anger. At least Joey’s hit brought in a run from the first inning, which cooled them down a bit. But it wasn’t enough.

“Is it possible? I think Reed is starting to run out of steam…”

“We already won the division anyway, and only the postseason is left. Shouldn’t we just let him recover his stamina and aim for the World Series…?”

“He’s been playing a bit too much this season. It’s a miracle he hasn’t gotten injured. He’s still a young player, shouldn’t we start managing him now?”

However, worries were slowly growing. Having watched Lee Jung-woo all along and being completely immersed in his play, they were quick to sense something was off. They knew that the hit from just now would have definitely gone over the fence under normal circumstances. But it didn’t, so there must be something wrong. The most likely candidate was, of course, a lack of stamina.

Although they wanted to see the record, if asked whether that great record was worth as much as Lee Jung-woo, the answer was absolutely no. So, the fans were worried whether they should manage the overloaded Lee Jung-woo even now.

“These days, there’s been a lot of bullshit lately. Reed is running out of stamina? They’re full of shit. And those guys are calling themselves Braves fans…”

“Calm down, they’re not wrong. And those people also like Reed and want him to set records. They’re worried because they love Reed that much.”

Some people, on the contrary, raised their voices even louder, vehemently reacting to such concerns. Among them was McCleroy, Lee Jung-woo’s self-proclaimed number one fan, who always visited his favorite bar with his friend Sanders on days when the Braves had away games.

Sanders calmed his friend, who was glaring and grumbling as if pouring cold water on the worried murmurs, but eventually let out a long sigh at his friend’s still sullen appearance.

‘He definitely feels a bit tired in September. His performance is also declining. You can tell just by looking at today.’

The ignorant gorilla sitting across from him didn’t admit it, but in reality, Lee Jung-woo’s performance had been declining little by little in September. He did add two more home runs, but aside from that, it was natural for concerns to arise.

Of course, even the declined performance was still easily better than most other players. But compared to the past ‘Lee Jung-woo,’ it was true that he was lacking. And today, the reality was clearly showing.

‘Moreover, Lee is a shortstop, so it’s even more of a problem. It’s already a position that consumes a lot of stamina, and he’s even attempting steals…’

Lee Jung-woo’s play itself was perfect for draining stamina, so many people shared the opinion that a drop beyond the immediate decline in performance might occur.

Making good use of his quick feet and excellent athletic ability, he covered a wide range in defense, consuming stamina rapidly. There was a possibility that his fatigue could exceed the limit in an instant and he might collapse.

It wasn’t a pleasant thing to hear from the perspective of someone who supported him, but Sanders also agreed to some extent and was worried. That’s why he also had a desire for him to show a slightly resting appearance.

Sanders, who was sipping his drink while watching the large TV screen with worried eyes, briefly put down his glass at Lee Jung-woo’s second at-bat, which soon returned. He appeared with a face that was a little more glistening than his first at-bat, perhaps because of the sweat he shed while fielding. As always, he filled the batter’s box and glared at the pitcher.

“Let’s go for a home run this time!”

“Watch closely, Sanders! Lee will turn those morons into real morons with a home run. You know? I always hit when I say it? Hehe~ Lee should know. That I contributed a lot to the home run.”

“If you’re drunk, go home. Stop talking nonsense.”

Then the inside of the bar became noisy again. Now completely resigned, even the owner of the store joined in and shouted enthusiastically. The employees were also busily moving around, but their eyes were fixed on the screen.

Home run calls that would be missed if they weren’t there now came from everywhere. McCleroy also confidently guaranteed Sanders that he would definitely hit it.

[Ground ball to the infield! The hit is a little slow- in the meantime, Lee is sprinting! The third baseman catches it and throws to first- Safe! Jung-woo Lee creates an infield hit! A victory of determination!]

“Well- two hits are enough.”

“He’s doing well! Let’s keep it up!”

“Ahem, well, an infield hit is still a hit. It’s good to maintain a .400 average…”

“If you’re embarrassed, just say you’re embarrassed. Don’t give it weird meanings.”

Instead of a home run, he barely recorded an infield hit, and soon he started eating diligently with an awkward expression. Perhaps the others were the same, as they sat back down and clapped enthusiastically. Still, although a home run didn’t come out, he recorded a multi-hit and maintained his batting average, so people were moderately satisfied.

After the commotion subsided, Sanders was relieved to see Lee Jung-woo sticking to first base, covered in sweat. Lee Jung-woo in the screen looked tired enough for anyone to tell.

‘He’s already fatigued. He ran hard in the field, and then immediately sprinted to make an infield hit. Even Lee can’t help but be exhausted.’

Thinking that, Sanders was about to sip his drink again, but soon stood up abruptly.

Lee Jung-woo, who was barely catching his breath while sticking to the base in exhaustion, suddenly ran on the third pitch.

[Lee! He’s running! Stealing second base!]

“Huh, huh?”

“He- He’s running!”

The bar was instantly thrown into chaos by Lee Jung-woo’s sudden run between bases. Sanders, who had put down his glass and stood up, could only utter “uh uh.” He thought he would rest a bit, but he suddenly started running, and he couldn’t even speak.

Even the sight of him succeeding in that reckless dash was just…

[Safe! Safe at second base! Lee adds another stolen base! Now only two more until 50 stolen bases!]

“Yeeessssss!”

“That’s right! When there are no home runs, you steal bases! That’s Lee!”

It was amazing.

People cheered at Lee Jung-woo, who was panting much more heavily than before after stepping on second base, and the sound grew a little louder on the relay screen showing the number of remaining steals until 50-50. [Referring to 50 home runs and 50 stolen bases in a season.]

Then, after a little time, the cheers subsided as he continued to breathe roughly. Lee Jung-woo would have been fine even if he had stolen consecutively under normal circumstances, so his fatigue suddenly hit them hard.

Even McCleroy, who had been shouting enthusiastically, shut his mouth tightly, and voices of concern leaked out little by little, wondering if he had overdone it. But then, the thoughts changed once again as Lee Jung-woo stopped catching his breath and raised his head again, and the screen captured him.

“…”

The muscles in his neck and face were tense, and his eyes were red with fatigue from the continuous sprints, but still, the sight of Lee Jung-woo staring ahead with his eyes wide open erased all the worries and concerns he had had until now.

The face inside clearly treated the accumulated fatigue, the decreased stamina, and the pessimistic words towards him as nothing more than pathetic bullshit. It was the Lee Jung-woo they knew so well.

“I believe! I fucking believe! Fatigue accumulation? Stamina management? Screw that! Let’s go all the way!”

So he just shouted. Sanders, who was so engrossed in watching the screen that he didn’t even seem to notice the beer foam on his beard, shouted so loudly that his friend McCleroy was startled, and he flinched at the gazes that suddenly turned to him.

‘What am I doing-‘

His face flushed slightly at the thought that he had done something that only a guy like McCleroy would do, but he wasn’t particularly embarrassed. Soon after, everyone in the bar who was watching the game together shouted the same thing he had done.

“50-50, let’s gooooo!”

“Just steal bases this series! The Phillies sons of bitches will give us home runs on their own!”

####

[Joey Fredman! A clean hit to left-center! The runner on second scores! The Braves score from the first attack!]

After stealing second base, Lee Jung-woo looked for an opportunity just in case. However, the Marlins battery [pitcher and catcher] thoroughly prevented him from stealing third base, and in the end, Lee Jung-woo was satisfied with scoring one more run this time.

In the subsequent defense, Lee Jung-woo, who had been accumulating outs with his quick movements as always and waiting for his turn again, soon entered his third at-bat and forcibly managed his expression.

Because the corners of his mouth seemed to be rising.

‘It’s the same. The outfielders are still backing up.’

What made him smile was the defensive shift that was in place as usual. Although he showed a versatile side and hit balls all over the field, as a well-known slugger in the league, the defensive shift to deal with him was always a rearward deployment.

It was to suppress long hits as much as possible and prevent major crises. Whether they dismissed the previous infield hit as just a coincidence, the ground was drawn in the same form in this at-bat as well. That was good news for Lee Jung-woo personally.

‘Yes, they still don’t know. No, no one knows except me. That my power has dropped a little. Even the first at-bat looked like just an unfortunate hit from the side.’

It was a natural thing. Unless they were mind readers, who would think that his power had dropped after seeing the long hit he had hit in the first at-bat? Especially after seeing a hit that would have been a home run in another stadium.

So, the Marlins had no choice but to be wary of his long hits as usual. At least at this moment, the only person who knew that he couldn’t hit it over that distant fence was Lee Jung-woo himself.

‘Information that only I know. A story that only I know. There’s nothing more useful than this.’

Forcibly maintaining the same poker face as usual, Lee Jung-woo, who entered the batter’s box while swinging his bat, glanced at the catcher. He didn’t say anything in particular.

He had gained an unexpected advantage thanks to the Marlins bench, which had not yet grasped his condition, but the biggest problem was still the catcher.

‘Earlier, he definitely seemed to be aware of it properly. It became even more severe after being stolen once. He didn’t throw any pickoff throws, but he was constantly wary.’

Even though he was on second base, it was to that extent, so their wariness was understandable. Of course, this was also a natural thing. It would be strange if they didn’t watch out for a player who had stolen 47 bases. Now that the number of stolen bases had increased to 48, there was nothing more to say.

‘How did Ricky Henderson steal 130 in a season? He must have received even more checks than this.’

Lee Jung-woo, who was feeling the greatness of the master thief anew, soon focused on the match against the pitcher, who was getting ready. He had to get a hit or get on base first. Worrying about stealing was a problem to be solved at the next base.

So, focusing on the match, he let the first and second pitches go by, quietly watching the ball. The ball and strike that went up side by side added color to the scoreboard. The audience’s expectations also increased.

“It’s coming, something big is coming.”

“He’s getting his timing, right?”

“Can’t you tell by looking? He’s watching the ball. In this at-bat, he’s going to send it right over that fucking distant fence.”

A player at his peak, just standing still, makes people give meaning to his actions. That was the case with Lee Jung-woo now. One and one. Even though it was nothing, the visiting fans whispered to each other, predicting a home run. Even if they always wanted a home run and were set aside, even the home fans and home team players swallowed nervously as if they were nervous.

“Just don’t give him a home run, just don’t.”

“Please. Stop it already. How much more do we have to give him to be satisfied? Do you want us to do it like the Phillies?”

At least to them, it looked like Lee Jung-woo was aiming for a home run.

Lee Jung-woo, who unintentionally put on a great performance, didn’t have the luxury to appreciate such reactions. Although his goal had dropped significantly to getting on base rather than a home run, he still had to do his best.

‘The first at-bat was inside. And I got hit. In the second at-bat, the one that went far outside was caught by the bat. And this time, two high outside pitches. He probably won’t give me anything low. Because I’ve often made home runs with that course. A crossfire would be the best, but the pitcher doesn’t have that much control and power. At least not so far.’

Lee Jung-woo, who slowly erased the options one by one, puffed up his sturdy arms as if to put pressure on the pitcher. The pitcher, who hesitated for a moment at the sight of his pulsating power, soon took out the ball once again.

The course that created an infield hit in the previous at-bat. The course where the tip of the bat would barely hit it, making it difficult to produce a home run or even a long hit. It was a course that would have been an out with just a ground ball if it hadn’t been for his speed earlier, so the pitcher probably thought he wouldn’t swing the bat.

‘It’s here.’

Unfortunately, that was all Lee Jung-woo needed right now. It wasn’t very satisfactory, but it was familiar because he had already hit it once. Properly aiming for the outside ball, Lee Jung-woo, who had thrown away his sturdy arms from just now, simply pushed it lightly and ran right away.

“Huh? Uh oh?”

“Catch- catch it!”

When an unexpected, weak hit came out this time as well, only futile onomatopoeia were heard from the surroundings. It was quite noisy for a reaction to a lightly flying ball that was not a home run, a long hit, or even a well-hit ball, but the unexpectedness that people felt was that great.

The shortstop struggled to catch up, but the ball that had been floating around gently landed on the ground as if teasing him. Lee Jung-woo, who had already entered first base a long time ago, leisurely watched the back of the shortstop who caught the ball late.

[Lee’s hit! It seems like a slightly mis-hit ball, is he intending it? Lee often produces ‘clean’ line drives, but today, except for the first at-bat, he is often producing hits that are far from that style.]

[Whatever it looks like, making a hit is the best hit. I think you can see it that way this time as well.]

[Haha, that’s the answer.]

A hit that can’t be said to be clean. Even the caster tilted his head at Lee Jung-woo, who had been producing frequent hits with a level swing this season. Soon, he nodded as if good was good. Lee Jung-woo himself, who stepped on first base, also looked satisfied.

‘I got on base for now. The next thing is the problem. He probably won’t let me go easily. Then…’

First goal achieved. Another challenge that was cast after that. It was time to worry about the concerns that had been put off at the plate. Lee Jung-woo glanced at the catcher, the pitcher, and the opposing team’s bench, gauging the timing.

[Although Jung-woo Lee’s home run has not come out as the Braves supporters have expected so far, he is showing a good sense of hitting by recording a multi-hit.]

[Now, Joey Fredman, the 3rd batter, is up to bat again. He is recording 1 hit and 1 RBI in this game. Now, he throws the first pitch- Ack!]

In the meantime, the caster said an appropriate comment and introduced the next batter who came up soon after, and he and the Marlins tried to focus on the new match, but he couldn’t finish his words and burst into a high-pitched exclamation. Because he ran outright the moment the pitcher threw the first pitch, not long after the next batter came in.

[Lee! Stealing second base!]

The opponent, who was fully wary and raised his guard with both hands full. At any time, he would throw a counter punch. In response, he could create a gap by confusing the opponent with footwork in the name of lead, or he could endure and endure, and then suddenly throw the same counter to smash his chin. But,

‘Let’s think while running.’

Among them, what Lee Jung-woo chose was to hit first.

A counter punch, footwork, it was a rough-and-tumble way of thinking that it was better to hit first than to waste time on such things.

[He’s fast! Second base! At second base!]

Funnily enough, such a crude method sometimes works quite well. Especially if there is a sure hit that can shatter the opponent’s guard. A punch that comes out at an unexpected timing sometimes disrupts the boxer’s balance.

Just like in this case.

“Safe!”

The catcher, who had been gradually raising his vigilance and observing Lee Jung-woo along with the batter, hurriedly got up while receiving the ball at the sight of him suddenly running, but Joey’s slow swing, filled with the experience of a veteran, grabbed his ankle once. That one timing was more than enough for Lee Jung-woo to walk one and a half steps.

And in baseball, two steps are more than enough to make a steal.

Lee Jung-woo, who stretched his legs out long and stamped on the base slightly faster than the throw, stopped his body again at the safe declaration. Another successful steal of second base. The 49th stolen base of the season, created with a bang.

Perhaps his mentality was broken by giving up bases in succession despite being wary, the catcher was still staring at second base, or rather, Lee Jung-woo, with a blank expression. Complaints poured out from the stands towards the catcher who was giving up steals in vain.

“Hey, you son of a bitch!”

“Are you even a catcher, you fucker!”

“How can’t you catch him even once! Are you not doing it properly!”

Marlins Park was buzzing. Lee Jung-woo, who was at the center of it, raised his head again as his breathing calmed down. To the catcher, who was tearing up with self-disgust, regret for the pitcher, anger towards Lee Jung-woo, and a spirit tattered by the fans’ reactions, he was sorry, but it wasn’t over yet.

The moment he realized he couldn’t get it over the fence. Lee Jung-woo decided to make the Miami Marlins the protagonist of his 50th stolen base. To be exact, they would be the sacrifice. And.

‘One left.’

Now, only one thing was left until the goal.