Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 255

As the anticipated home run soared, the crowd erupted, a collective roar years in the making. Like a scene ripped from a sports movie, tens of thousands of spectators leaped to their feet in unison, arms reaching for the sky.

“Yessssssssss!”

All eyes followed Lee Jung-woo as he leisurely rounded the bases, as if strolling down a red carpet. Some Phillies players, unable to mask their frustration, stomped the ground, but their presence was utterly eclipsed in the electric atmosphere of the stadium.

[Only three more! Just three home runs left until the 50-50 club!]

The stadium announcer’s booming voice echoed through the speakers as Lee Jung-woo touched home base, savoring the home run one last time. Greeted by his teammates in front of the dugout, he lightly high-fived them and offered a slight nod, acknowledging the deafening cheers.

“Lee! Lee! Lee! Lee!”

The applause intensified, the crowd chanting his name again and again. Leaving the adulation behind, Lee Jung-woo returned to the dugout and slumped into a seat as if his mission were complete, but his teammates swarmed him, making relaxation impossible.

“Let’s go! Let’s make something happen in this series!”

“The bat! Where’s the bat? Let me touch it! Let me absorb some of its energy!”

“Hey, the record hasn’t been broken yet…”

Lee Jung-woo glared at them, momentarily speechless that they were already focused on the record, but eventually relented to the playful onslaught, enduring a few pats before finally managing to catch his breath.

‘95 miles. The velocity is average, but the power was definitely there. Good thing I used the heaviest bat.’

The weight of the impact still resonated in his hands. Lee Jung-woo glanced at the pitcher’s mound. Giovanni Tucci, the pitcher who had just surrendered his 47th home run of the season, was locked in a heated argument with the pitching coach.

Tucci’s energy radiated like that of a raging bull, giving the initial impression that he was fine, but perhaps that last pitch had been his final burst of strength. Even as he shouted, he unconsciously clutched his shoulder, betraying his exhaustion.

‘There won’t be a second time.’

Facing a pitcher he had already figured out would be ideal, but with Tucci’s pitch count already high and his condition visibly deteriorating, it was unlikely. Usually, pitchers would have backed down from Giovanni’s intensity, but the pitching coach stood firm, his expression resolute.

If the coach, or rather the manager and the bench behind him, had made up their minds, the player’s opinion didn’t carry much weight. Things would proceed as they intended.

‘One home run. Well, at least I got one.’

Giovanni Tucci was being pulled. A new pitcher came jogging out from the bullpen, and Giovanni Tucci, forcibly escorted off the mound, shook his head a few times before his eyes locked with Lee Jung-woo’s on the bench.

Lee Jung-woo simply offered him a refreshing smile, filled with gratitude, as Giovanni glared back, grinding his teeth.

‘Come to think of it, I strangely have good chemistry with that guy. I wish all pitchers were like that. No, if they were, I’d be dead already.’

####

The Braves’ come-from-behind victory amplified the celebratory atmosphere in Atlanta. People sporting Lee Jung-woo’s jersey were a common sight not only near the stadium but throughout the entire city.

Even those who typically showed no interest in baseball were now browsing in nearby stores. It was as if you were an outcast if you didn’t own a Braves jersey.

“48! 48! 48!”

The next day, fans who had camped out at the stadium before the game loudly chanted the number 48, their anticipation palpable. The atmosphere was even more electric than the day before, and Lee Jung-woo couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Wow~ I can hear the noise from outside the stadium? You could run for mayor and win.”

“Mayor? If you ran for president right now, you’d sweep all the votes in this area.”

The scene resembled a campaign rally, and Lee Jung-woo ran a hand over his tired face. His teammates laughed, subtly amplifying the noise as if they found it endlessly amusing.

‘All I did was hit one home run, and everyone’s limiters are off. I only wanted to stir up some excitement…’

Although their current behavior was preferable to their awkward and stiff demeanor from the previous days, it was still exhausting to endure, and Lee Jung-woo sighed, though a smile played on his lips.

‘It’s better than yesterday.’

His condition, which had been average or slightly below average recently, had improved considerably. He felt refreshed when he woke up early in the morning and got out of bed. His swing was also noticeably quicker during a simple pre-batting session to check his hitting.

‘Maybe I’ll hit another one today?’

Perhaps because of his improved condition, he became a little greedy. He had previously thought it impossible to break the record in this series, but his revitalized state whispered possibilities. A sense of confidence began to swell within him.

That’s why Lee Jung-woo became even more cautious. This kind of thinking and feeling was dangerous, especially given his current situation.

‘This is how you crash. A brief flash of brilliance, followed by a fall into the abyss. I’m being swept away by the atmosphere without realizing it.’

In most cases, the body dictates the mind. One might argue the reverse, but it’s evident in how the mind becomes clouded when fatigued, and how concentration sharpens with ample energy.

But sometimes, perhaps like today, the mind forces the body to perform beyond its limits. In other words, it’s like forcibly overclocking [pushing a computer component beyond its designed specifications]. Lee Jung-woo suspected that was the case. It wasn’t natural for his body to suddenly improve. That meant it was being artificially boosted, and such instances usually come with a harsh rebound.

Especially at the end of the season like now, gifts that seem like miracles for a body that shouldn’t be in peak condition usually come at a high price.

‘This is a little different from just having a good day. If I get carried away just because my body feels good, I’ll be swept away by the aftermath later. I need to be careful.’

He needed to leverage his improved condition strategically, but also needed to exercise restraint to avoid overexertion. That’s why Lee Jung-woo warmed up more thoroughly than usual before the game. After completing his preparations and surveying the field as always, Lee Jung-woo fiddled with his bat, steeling himself.

“Is that the bat you hit the home run with yesterday? Are you going to use it again today? Or are you going to switch?”

“Well, considering Lee’s power, a heavy bat suits him well.”

“It’s not that serious. My bat speed is just fast today.”

Among his bats, it was the heaviest and longest one within the regulations. He usually reserved it for practice or as a secret weapon when he needed guaranteed power, but today it felt like it would be appropriate to use it as his primary weapon.

With that, Lee Jung-woo completed his final preparations, and the second game soon began.

####

[Lee looks very light on his feet today. He always does, but he seems especially agile in defense.]

As Lee Jung-woo finished the inning with his signature clean catch in the top of the first, the commentators tried to stir up excitement by saying that, and it wasn’t entirely untrue.

Indeed, even the home fans could see that Lee Jung-woo’s movements were a bit more nimble compared to recent games.

“Is it possible today, too?”

“We’ll have to see his batting, but he doesn’t look to be in bad shape, does he?”

Despite the festive atmosphere, most fans knew the reality. Achieving a 50-50 record in this series, as they hoped, was a long shot. However, Lee Jung-woo’s home run in the previous game and his good form in the second game sparked a ‘maybe?’ thought in their minds.

Thus, the crowd eagerly awaited the change of offense and defense, craning their necks like turtles.

[Bottom of the 1st, the Braves’ attack. Just about to start… Haha, the crowd’s expectations are already quite high.]

The Phillies players filled the re-prepared field, but no one was watching them. All eyes were on Lee Jung-woo, who was practicing his swing in the on-deck circle.

Even fans in the distant outfield seats were either watching Lee Jung-woo on the scoreboard or, for some reason, taking out binoculars to keep an eye on him.

“Waaaaah!”

[He hits! Towards second base! The second baseman can’t catch it, it’s a hit! Leadoff hitter Derek Hunt gets a hit right from the start!]

[That was a great hit, living up to his reputation. This will raise the crowd’s expectations even more, won’t it?]

As Derek’s hit rang out, people hurriedly cheered and clapped briefly, raising their expectations as the commentators said.

The Braves’ formula of Derek’s hit followed by Lee Jung-woo’s home run in the first inning had already become like sacred scripture to the Braves fans.

[Number 2 hitter, Jung! Woo! Lee!]

With the stadium announcer’s booming introduction, the excitement reached its peak, and in the buzzing stadium, some Phillies players spat thick globs of saliva onto Truist Park, defiling it with their emotions.

The Phillies’ starting pitcher, the fourth starter, calmly recited a prayer as if trying to calm himself, but his glove was soaked with sweat.

In the midst of all this, a player trudged to the plate. Lee Jung-woo stepped into the batter’s box, lightly drew a semicircle with his bat, and took his stance. It was a trivial action, but it exerted huge pressure on the pitcher.

[Alright, the game begins amidst everyone’s expectations. The pitcher’s first pitch – he hits! It goes far, far away – ah! It curves out! Foul!]

[That’s a heart-stopping moment for the pitcher. Although it didn’t go over the fence, it would have been a long hit that would have easily brought in a runner if it had been fair.]

The first pitch was a foul. It was quite a big hit, and the pitcher stiffened. The sound that filled the stadium cooled down, and the crowd also became more restrained.

“His hitting feel – looks good, doesn’t it?”

“It’s a shame it was a foul, but it looks even better than yesterday?”

“Quiet, everyone. Lee needs to concentrate.”

“There’s no way he can hear us from here – Aaaagh!”

“Oh- Ohhhhh!”

The fans, who were whispering their opinions to each other, afraid of breaking Lee Jung-woo’s concentration, eventually screamed in astonishment at the explosive sound of the hit. The sound continued to rise with the trajectory of the ball, which was larger than the previous foul, but soon plummeted back to the ground like a roller coaster, resulting in a sigh of disappointment.

“Just a little more to the left!”

“Ah, if only there was a little wind!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. His power seems sufficient, so he just needs to make good contact.”

“Shouldn’t we have a video replay? To see if it grazed the foul pole.”

The big foul home run narrowly passed by the foul pole, so the disappointment deepened, and some shouted that a video replay should be done. But soon Lee Jung-woo took his stance again, and everyone shut their mouths.

After that, fouls continued, and the pitcher’s sweat became thicker. It looked like he was getting his timing.

[Another foul! Lee makes five consecutive fouls. This – the feeling is unusual, isn’t it?]

[He definitely looks good at the plate today. The accuracy is a bit disappointing, but each foul was a course that could have led to a score.]

As the tension increased, the Phillies battery’s [pitcher and catcher] 고민 [agonizing thoughts] also lengthened, and the pitcher’s face, who seemed to be intimidated, showed a little less confidence than before, shaking his head several times.

Eventually, the pitcher, who reluctantly took his pitching form with a sullen expression, forced by the catcher’s strong demand, put all his strength into throwing the best he could, and the slider came in with a pretty impressive look.

[He hits it again!]

This time, too, the bat came out.

The destructive swing, as it had been throughout this at-bat, tore through the air, and the straight, concise hit pierced the ball. The people watching the game tried to follow the ball by force, but even that was difficult because the ball flew so fast that they couldn’t even catch it with their eyes, and only the right fielder, who had retreated as far as possible, was close to the ball.

[Ah – it crossed the line again – the right fielder caught the ball! This is quite a disappointing result for the Braves fans.]

[It was a ball that hit the fence, but the right fielder caught it well. Now it’s one out.]

The result was another foul, and an out. The right fielder, who jumped high and forcibly caught the ball, roared as if the world was falling apart, spreading his presence widely. The Phillies fans who were watching the game at home would have sent him generous praise. On the field, he was just a lump of hatred, so only subtle curses were poured out on him.

“You clueless bastard!”

“The Phillies are no good because of guys like you! You blockhead! Yes! I’m talking to you, you X-shithead.”

“The atmosphere was good, why are you ruining it!”

A disappointing result in many ways compared to the expectations raised by the successive big fouls. The audience smacked their lips as if they were feeling uncomfortable, but they sent applause to Lee Jung-woo, who was returning to the dugout, as if they had glimpsed hope. Lee Jung-woo, who was receiving them and returning to his seat, was rather surprised, unlike the angry fans.

‘This is all-in. Whether my body is shattered by the rebound later, or I’m bedridden until the end of the season, I have to get my money’s worth today.’

It was the first at-bat, so I just tapped the bat to see how it felt, but everything was unusual. So he thought. Screw the aftermath, I should just get the most out of it.