Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 276

“Isn’t that too much? This is our home, so take it easy. We went easy on you guys at your place.”

“For someone who was going easy, you looked awfully convincing when you struck out, though?”

“Hehe, did it show? You’re not going to eliminate me like Harding, are you? We’re not that kind of relationship, are we? Let’s see each other for a long time.”

Lee Jung-woo, standing on third base, had a reunion with Arthur Hunter after a long time. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t so much a reunion as it was an exchange of jokes and a war of nerves.

Lee Jung-woo simply scoffed at Arthur Hunter’s weak words. Even though he spoke like that, his eyes were burning with fire.

‘During the Boston dynasty, the Dodgers won the championship once in the middle. I don’t remember exactly how many seasons it was, though.’

After Arthur Hunter came over, the Dodgers had experienced two championships, creating a rivalry between Harding, the uncrowned king, and Hunter, who had seized the ring.

One of those times was when they snatched the throne during the Boston dynasty, and perhaps this year could be it. Well, even if that’s the case, both of them will end up as uncrowned kings anyway.

After briefly talking with Arthur Hunter, Lee Jung-woo soon caught a high fly ball and came home, adding another run.

4 plate appearances, 3 at-bats, 2 hits, 1 RBI. A decent record, but still a bit lacking. It wasn’t enough for the people who were shouting so enthusiastically to truly make their voices heard.

At Truist Park [home stadium of the Atlanta Braves], when he hit a home run, the fans made an even more magnificent sound than this.

‘The feeling is still good. I doubt the battery [pitcher and catcher] will keep matching up against me, though. One more is possible.’

Fortunately, half of the requirements to bring it out were met. The problem was that the other half was in someone else’s hands.

Lee Jung-woo lightly high-fived Peterson, the cleanup hitter, as he went to the plate and returned to the dugout, surveying the Dodgers’ bench.

It’s quite busy.

They must be embarrassed by the slowly approaching third defeat, even though it’s their home. They’ll also feel frustrated.

Watching their confused 모습 [Korean for “appearance” or “state”], Lee Jung-woo thought.

He hoped they would make a mistake in their embarrassment. A mistake that would allow him to face them head-on once more.

####

The Braves then scored another point, extending their lead to 9-4 as they finished the top of the 6th inning. Dark clouds gathered over the lively Dodger Stadium.

While the faces of the home crowd were filled with worry, the away fans, painted with blood, shouted even louder, as if to say that this was their home ground.

“3 wins! ３ wins! 3 wins!”

“We’ve definitely won, definitely. Let’s win cleanly tomorrow too, and then go to the World Series!”

There was no particular intention to mock or provoke the opponent, but the fact that they were excited alone made the foreheads of the Dodgers fans turn red. Fortunately, the atmosphere didn’t escalate to the point of becoming hostile.

The home fans suppressed their rising anger, 꾹꾹 [onomatopoeia for suppressing or holding something back].

“Ha… is it not going to happen this year?”

“I told you we should have won last year no matter what. It was the best opportunity!”

“Ah, this is so frustrating. Do something!”

To be more precise, instead of expressing their anger towards the opponent or the unpleasant away fans, they turned their anger towards the disappointing Dodgers.

Being humiliated by the visiting team, the fading hope, and becoming similar to the Giants, whom they had ridiculed so much, were all because the players were not performing well.

Just a moment ago, the players were referred to as ‘my babies,’ but now they were gradually being transformed into ‘X-holes.’ As Lee Jung-woo came up to bat in the top of the 8th inning with one out and a runner on second, the fans openly frowned.

“Walk him!”

“Just intentionally walk him!”

“Don’t bother facing that bastard, just catch the other guys!”

He was a player they had coveted so much, but now they just hated him. More than 90% of the reason they were angry was because of that guy.

If it weren’t for that guy, if that bastard wasn’t there, perhaps a better picture would have been drawn for the Dodgers. But in the end, he ruined it all, and the Dodgers fans were not merciful to the intruder who had invaded their home.

They just wanted him to get off the plate, regardless of embarrassment. The fans shouted to walk him, but the batter safely entered the plate.

Seeing his solid body filling the batter’s box again made the fans’ anger surge, but they forced their mouths shut, thinking that there might be some trick to facing him.

‘Okay, we’re 70% there. Now, just throw the ball well.’

And Lee Jung-woo was just grateful. He thought they would definitely walk him, but thankfully, they let him into the batter’s box.

That alone was satisfying, but he was a greedy person, so he wasn’t satisfied with what was given and expected more.

Since it wasn’t an automatic intentional walk, he hoped they wouldn’t pretend not to walk him, and furthermore, he wanted them to have a fair head-on match instead of an ambiguous course.

Greed led to more greed, and Lee Jung-woo, who tried to hide such emotions with a poker face, looked at the pitcher with sparkling eyes like a child waiting for a Christmas present.

And then came the first pitch. A fastball that was buried outside. A little far.

“Ball.”

Of course, it was a ball. It wasn’t just half a ball or one ball, but more than two balls out, so it had to be a ball unless the umpire had suddenly gone crazy.

Each time the green light went up on the scoreboard, Lee Jung-woo’s heart became more and more anxious.

‘Are you just going to walk me like this? Didn’t you have some thought in mind when you decided to compete?’

He glared at the pitcher, but the only answer he got was just a ball. Three balls. A situation where only one straight walk remained. Lee Jung-woo was dumbfounded.

No, if you were going to walk me anyway, you should have prevented me from even entering the batter’s box so that I wouldn’t have any regrets. You raised my expectations and then suddenly took it away, so it tasted even more bitter.

With that in mind, Lee Jung-woo gripped the bat tightly. He didn’t show it to others, but he had pretended to be cool, trying to elicit more reactions from the fans in his heart, but he didn’t want to end it like this.

Since it was the 8th inning, there was a high possibility that it would be his last at-bat, and the team was still maintaining a 5-point difference, so there was nothing to hold back.

‘Low, low, low.’

He stared at the pitcher, muttering as if hypnotizing him, and focused all his attention on just one course, excluding everything else.

Low course. It doesn’t matter if it hits the ground or not. The pitch is a two-seam, four-seam, or changeup, so just look and choose.

It was a forceful approach, but sometimes it worked well, so Lee Jung-woo hoped that his ability as a bad ball hitter, which had disappeared while changing his batting form, would awaken as he took his stance.

[Okay, the 4th ball is thrown.]

The pitcher’s pitch.

The swaying arm is cut diagonally and swung. The most orthodox pitching form in baseball is perfectly matched, sending the ball flying.

The posture was quite fluid. The ball was pretty good too. It would be a pretty good pitch, except that it seemed difficult to get into the zone.

‘Low.’

It was also very excellent from Lee Jung-woo’s point of view. It was exactly what he wanted. Fastball. It’s hard to tell if it’s a two-seam or a four-seam.

But it’s low. The appropriate low ball, which doesn’t seem like it will hit the ground or hit between the pitcher’s legs, is a well-thrown ball if the intention was to walk the batter. But at least at this moment, even that wasn’t the case.

Because he didn’t walk him properly.

“Hmph-”

Momentary breathlessness. As if responding to the pitcher’s fluid pitching form, the waist bent dynamically, and other body parts interlocked accordingly.

The swing, which already had enough waist strength, abdominal strength, and hip strength, combined with a strong rotational force, emitted a noise that was deafening to the umpire and catcher who were right in front of him.

Paak-

He could already tell that he had hit it properly with his empty hand. Because you can’t even feel the sensation of a ball that’s hit too well.

Lee Jung-woo threw the bat, and the pitcher just shook his head as if he wasn’t even surprised. What could he say to the batter who had picked up and lifted a ball that was openly meant to be walked?

He’ll just have to spit out a bunch of curses and soak his pillow with tears before going to bed.

[Jung-woo Lee! Two-run home run! The score is now 11 to 4, a 6-point difference!]

“You son of a bitch!”

“You bastard!”

“Aaaaaaaaaah!”

Unlike the surprisingly quiet pitcher, the spectators wailed like crows, abusing their vocal cords.

The ear-piercing screams of astonishment pierced Lee Jung-woo’s ears, and although it wasn’t the voice of the Braves as he had intended, he was just as satisfied, so Lee Jung-woo turned the base with light steps.

“Take it easy.”

As he passed third base, he heard Arthur Hunter’s grumbling, but Lee Jung-woo passed him with light steps and stepped on home base. His teammates ran to greet him, but something about their eyes was a little strange.

“Wow… amazing.”

“Wow, Lee, you’re really amazing?”

“I’m glad I can be with a player like you.”

“What’s wrong with you all?”

No, not just their eyes, but the way they spoke was also a bit awkward, and their 모습 seemed stiff, so Lee Jung-woo tilted his head.

It wasn’t like he had only hit one or two home runs, and the team was winning, so there was no reason for them to be like this.

With that in mind, he asked for the reason, but the answer he got was also a bit unsatisfactory.

“…Just saying you’re amazing.”

Lee Jung-woo tilted his head while his teammates, who should have been hitting him hard as usual if he had hit a home run, were somehow saying weak words. He quietly returned to the dugout and soon scanned the stadium.

Those wearing Dodgers uniforms glared at him with hateful eyes, which was to be expected, but the Braves were a bit strange.

Whether it was contagious from the players, they all had strange expressions. They were very happy and their faces were flushed, but they didn’t open their mouths at all.

They seemed to be happy, but they seemed to want something more.

“What the heck?”

Lee Jung-woo voiced his bewilderment again, but this time, not even a half-hearted answer came back. They simply distanced themselves from him. Lee Jung-woo didn’t realize it yet, but he still had one more thing to offer the fans.

####

The Korean broadcast team was in disbelief. They had simply hoped that Lee Jung-woo would hit another splendid home run, adding a brilliant impact to his performance, just as he had always done.

But now, he was challenging something a step, no, more than a level above that.

[Um… it’s hard to say. Will he get another at-bat [a batter’s turn to hit]?…]
[I don’t know. Fortunately, it’s an away game, so there’s the top of the 9th inning left… but, yeah, I can’t say for sure.]

The tension, which had been steadily rising, dropped slightly. They had to be careful with their words.

Although it wasn’t a perfect game or a no-hitter, they continued the broadcast while refraining from mentioning it as much as possible, and they couldn’t hide their joy each time a Braves batter got on base during the still ongoing top of the 8th inning.

“More, more!”

The PD [Production Director] was the same.

He couldn’t know for sure, but the viewership was probably soaring. The number of streaming viewers was climbing endlessly, like ascending a high mountain.

Watching that, he muttered with greed, hoping that this moment would become even more perfect. And so, the moment of destiny gradually approached.

The top of the 8th inning ended.

Seventh batter Gary Winters recorded a disappointing strikeout, making three outs. In the process, the Braves scored additional points again, but in this situation, the score had long been out of people’s interest.

[Lee Jung-woo fields it and throws to 1st! Out at 1st!]

And the subsequent bottom of the 8th inning also failed to attract attention, even though it could have been a stepping stone for the Dodgers’ comeback. Everyone had been focused on the top of the 9th inning that would follow.

As if rebelling against the fading interest, the Dodgers’ lineup scored a point in a desperate attempt to resist, but the bottom of the 8th inning ended in a quiet atmosphere that made such efforts seem futile.

Lee Jung-woo, who returned to the dugout after recording an out count as usual, somehow rubbed his slightly sore right index finger.

“What’s wrong? Is there a problem…?”

The hitting coach approached in surprise at the sight, and Lee Jung-woo shook his head as if it was nothing.

“When I was quickly throwing the ball just now, I slightly scratched it with my nail when taking the ball out of the glove-”

“What?”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I heard Lee is missing a fingernail?”

Everyone in the dugout approached at those words, and Lee Jung-woo, momentarily overwhelmed by their energy, let out a hollow laugh.

It was common to have a fingernail lift when playing a rushed game, but the reaction was excessive.

“How is it? Can’t you even hit? Does it feel like it’s going to fall off? Should we replace you now?”

“No, I just scratched the ball a little, my fingernail didn’t lift.”

At those words, the hitting coach stroked his chest, and the other coaches and players who had gathered with a buzz also returned to their seats in a similar manner.

There was definitely something going on, but Lee Jung-woo couldn’t guess what it was, so he tilted his head. He looked for someone he could poke and get an answer from, but there weren’t many.

‘I miss Desmond. If I asked him, he would have answered everything he knew.’

Lee Jung-woo, longing for a friend with a loose mouth, forced the thought out of his head and observed the ground, which was busy with the change of offense and defense. The Dodgers players were also looking at him.

Their bodies were moving, but their eyes were glancing at him, giving him a strangely eerie feeling, and the spectators and his own teammates were similar, so Lee Jung-woo felt as if the entire Dodger Stadium was playing a hidden camera prank on him as a group.

What the heck is it? What’s causing this? He felt like he almost knew, but he didn’t reach the answer and let the time pass.

And the top of the 9th inning.

The Braves’ last offensive. The batters heading to the plate all had determined faces. Rollins, the 8th batter, and Pennington, the setup man for the 9th batter who would be replaced by a pinch hitter anyway, were so full of resolve that it was hard to understand.

The faces of those walking out of the dugout were full of determination to make it happen. Considering that the Braves were leading by 6 points with a score of 12 to 6, it seemed a bit excessive.

[Ah, Rollins, unfortunately, is out with a ground ball to the second baseman. That’s really too bad.]

[Now, Schultz is coming up as a pinch hitter, I wonder if he can get on base!]

[Swinging strikeout. Two outs. Only one out left until the end of the inning. First batter, captain Derek Hunt, is at the plate. Following him, Lee Jung-woo, carrying everyone’s wishes, shows his face in the on-deck circle.]

Two outs in an instant.

The atmosphere became subdued.

The Braves fans prayed to their respective gods, and the Dodgers fans also anxiously wished in their hearts that the last batter would just be out without incident.

[Okay, 6th pitch – um – the bat didn’t swing – a slightly ambiguous course. The umpire’s decision is – Ball! It’s a ball!]

“Don’t be ridiculous! Don’t talk nonsense! How is that a ball!”

“Boo! Boo! Boo! Stupid umpire, get out! One-eyed umpire out!”

The result was a walk.

Derek, who had picked the ball well, rejoiced as if he had hit a walk-off home run in the bottom of the 9th inning and walked to first base, while also sending Lee Jung-woo a hot gaze, encouraging him.

The person who received that gaze, however, still tilted his head because he didn’t understand its meaning.

The atmosphere was both agitated and subtly expectant. The pitcher rubbed his eyes several times, forcibly adding strength to his eyesight.

‘Will they walk me? It’s almost certain that we’re going to lose anyway. Are they trying to be spiteful?’

Unlike him, Lee Jung-woo faced the plate with a calm mind. He had already shown enough to satisfy himself, and the team was on the verge of victory, so he was more interested in the defense that would follow.

If they were to be reversed in a game like this, there would be nothing more demoralizing than that, so he could protect the victory even more thoroughly.

‘I used enough energy in the previous at-bat. Don’t overdo it, just go lightly, lightly.’

Lee Jung-woo, who had moderately increased his concentration, waited quietly for the ball. The pitcher, who had closed his eyes tightly once and then opened them again, threw the first pitch.

Ball. Compared to the glare, the ball flew in a fairly absurd course. Is he under pressure because the team’s defeat is predicted? It’s unknown.

“Throw the ball properly, you bastard!”

“If you even think about walking him, you and your dick are saying goodbye forever, so keep that in mind!”

“Fight, you bastards! Fight! I said fight!”

However, he was trying to pass it lightly, but the fans in the stands were even more uproarious.

So much swearing was poured out on the pitcher for throwing just one ball that it was almost unfair, and a broadcast briefly flowed through the speakers to calm the atmosphere, but the fierce glares remained.

‘Hmm, is it still not enough? I’ve set my standards too high. What am I going to do next year?’

Lee Jung-woo, seeing the fans who still seemed dissatisfied even though he seemed to have shown enough with a home run and a triple, wondered if he had raised expectations too high and licked his lips.

In the meantime, the pitcher, now visibly shaken by the jeers directed at him, threw the ball. Lee Jung-woo leaned back slightly at the ball that came close to his head.

“What are you guys-”

“I’m really sorry. That was absolutely not intentional! You know it just slipped out of my hand because I was nervous, right? We’re not those kind of dirty guys.”

“No, well, not that far…”

He was going to make a joke with the catcher using this as an excuse, but Lee Jung-woo narrowed his eyes at the catcher’s surprised and apologetic appearance.

Déjà vu. Yes, he felt déjà vu. Now it felt like some of the puzzle was coming together.

‘First at-bat, ground ball. Second, walk. Third, single. Fourth, triple. And the two-run home run just now.’

Lee Jung-woo, slowly reviewing his batting in today’s game in his head, soon rolled his eyes and chased after the ball.

How could he think when a pretty delicious guy [an easy pitch] flew in? He was concentrating on defense, but he had no intention of missing something like this.

‘Hit – ah, I hit it a little off.’

But perhaps it was because he was thinking about other things during the game, the ball that came straight into his body felt a little sore even though he hit it properly.

It was a course where a home run was possible, so he was disappointed, but he immediately ran towards first base, and when the ball hit the fence and fell, the base coach was enthusiastically waving his arm at Lee Jung-woo, who was similarly passing first base.

“Go! Go! Just go no matter what!”

What kind of instructions was the coach giving so irresponsibly, only telling him to run even if he was out. But since it was plenty, Lee Jung-woo was faithful to the order.

‘It’s deeper than I thought, this could be a triple. Captain is fast too, so I think we can go home?’

Still, it must have been a good course, the ball he saw passing first base was quite deep.

Lee Jung-woo, who had become greedy for it, put a little more strength into his legs and ran, and was about to pass second base as it was, but he couldn’t.

“Huh?”

He was sure it was quite enough because he ran as soon as he hit it, but Derek, who was the first base runner, stopped at third base, so his destination was naturally second base.

‘Did he sprain his ankle or something? Of all times, in the postseason….’

He even had bad thoughts about the unusual play, but he soon realized that wasn’t the case. After all the situations were over, Derek at third base stretched out his hand to him, uttering all kinds of exclamations. The other teammates and away fans were the same.

He still couldn’t understand it a little, but Lee Jung-woo, who was raising his arm to the sky to match the atmosphere, soon realized the identity of the déjà vu he had felt at the plate.

‘Ah, a cycle hit [hitting a single, double, triple, and home run in the same game].’

That he had achieved a hit for the cycle once again.

Even in the postseason.