Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 44

End of Pitcher, Start of Batter – Episode 43

The first game against the Birmingham Barons sparked a small realization for Lee Jung-woo.

The Atlanta Braves were performing similarly to the previous year.

Their plays were objectively better, which was both amazing and frustrating.

Little had changed, except the games felt somewhat unique in content and approach.

[Braves win series against Phillies]

[ㄴ What’s the point of winning the series? It’s a win-loss-win pattern.]

[ㄴ I predict we’ll go exactly 2 wins and 2 losses in the 4-game series against the Cubs.]

[ㄴ I know, right? Probably a loss-win-loss-win sequence.]

[ㄴ The funny thing is, isn’t the game quality better than last year? Same with player engagement.]

[ㄴ Much better. Darren seems to have pulled himself together a bit. Garza is gone. Mason is performing as expected. The other players are doing well too.]

[ㄴ But why are the results the same as last year?]

[ㄴ That’s the mystery.]

The fans were a bit perplexed.

The team roster was clearly different.

President Pratt had wielded the knife, replacing numerous players.

Among them was Ray Garza, who topped the survey as the player Braves fans most wanted to get rid of, and he was traded to the American League.

But the overall performance remained the same.

Third in the league with a win rate hovering in the low to mid 50 percent range.

The only difference was the absence of losing streaks, but there were no winning streaks either.

The Braves alternated between losing and winning.

The consensus was that they wouldn’t decline further as the season progressed, but they wouldn’t advance much either.

The fans somewhat agreed, but their reaction differed from the previous season.

Last year, they were furious, metaphorically threatening the front office staff with axes.

But now they were more relaxed.

[Is this okay? The game quality is a bit better, but…]

[ㄴ Well, we’re 3rd in the league, so it’s not a huge drop. But we’ll never make the postseason.]

[ㄴ Pratt told us to be patient for just one year, right? We have to wait.]

[ㄴ Still, the team composition is definitely better.]

[ㄴ That’s true. If we can snag some free agents [players whose contracts have expired and are free to sign with any team] next year and include Lee, it’ll be a jackpot.]

There was hope this year.

Hope for improvement.

The focus was on next year’s free agency, where big names would be available, but Lee Jung-woo also played a role.

He had burst onto the scene during the exhibition games, dominating major leaguers.

Even after being sent down to Double-A [the second-highest level of minor league baseball] when the season started, the prospect continued to record monstrous, even better, results, giving them hope.

The hope that they only had to endure a little longer.

####

If Lee Jung-woo symbolized the Braves’ hope,

there was a player who symbolized immediate disappointment.

-He missed the ball! Center fielder Grant caught it… but it’s too late. 7 to 5. The Cubs take the lead due to Darren Robson’s error!

-The balance of this tight game has completely shifted. An error at a crucial moment.

Bottom of the 7th inning.

The runners on 3rd and 2nd base scored due to the critical error,

tilting the balance of the tight game, which was tied at 5 to 5.

“Boo! Boo!”

“I thought you came to your senses! You son of a bitch!”

“Is it starting again? I thought we were going to have a winning streak for once!”

The jeering echoed through the stadium, and Darren Robson, looking around at the angry crowd, felt nauseous.

It was his first error of the season.

Just one error, but the atmosphere was fierce.

“Fuck…”

Darren muttered a curse and stood blankly, dazed.

He could hear his teammates’ voices,

but he didn’t really register them.

He was in no state to do so.

After the defensive play, which he didn’t even know how it ended,

he felt the pitcher’s stinging gaze and trudged back to the bench.

“It’s okay, it happens. Don’t worry too much and just-”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Derek approached to comfort him,

but Darren Robson ignored him.

He resented Derek, who always received the fans’ love, in contrast to himself, who was always ignored,

creating a stark difference in reaction.

So, Darren Robson, passing by Derek who was looking at him with a pitiful gaze, returned to the bench and buried his head between his knees.

‘Damn it… they’re going to curse me like crazy again.’

He anticipated the reaction.

They would definitely curse him, saying, ‘I knew it.’

Just like they always had.

But he thought this season would be different.

He had maintained a heightened sense of urgency and showed a stable performance that was clearly improved from before.

So he had hoped for some praise and had been watching the fans’ reactions, anticipating it.

He knew.

That it’s not good for a professional player to be too involved with the internet.

But the occasional praise he saw was as addictive as a drug.

So he often checked online communities and articles.

He had expectations because he was playing better than last year.

‘He’s a bit better, he came to his senses. Is that all? Is that it?’

The fans still didn’t acknowledge him.

All their attention was focused on that damn kid who was bouncing between the majors and minors, who hadn’t even arrived yet.

He had gone over a month since the league opened without an error, and he was batting decently, but he was completely out of their minds.

That made him angry.

And a little anxious.

‘Should I hit 40 home runs like Joey? Or should I win a Gold Glove [an award given to the best defensive players] like Derek? Is that what you want?’

He roughly shook his head.

What more should he do?

How on earth could he get them to react differently?

After being drafted by this damn team,

going through the hellish minors, and coming up to the majors, he was always compared to someone.

The gazes towards him were always cold.

He doesn’t have as much long-range power as Joey. He can’t defend as well as Derek, and he’s much worse than other shortstops.

His batting average is this, his slugging percentage is that, his errors are this, his fielding percentage is that.

The worst shortstop in the league, the number one player to be replaced in the future. A major leaguer who can only play for the Braves.

It’s always just those words.

Even if he’s doing well now, they curse him, saying his performance will drop someday.

‘Why are you only doing this to me? Why? What did I do? I’m doing well, right? I’ve already hit 3 home runs, and I’ve only made one error, right? What more do you want me to do?’

He was breathless.

They’re coming up from below.

His position is still unstable.

If time passes like this and that son of a bitch, who is loved by the fans and noticed by the president, comes up.

The pressure that he might be pushed out and become a backup weighed on him.

With bloodshot eyes, Darren Robson, who had been panting for a long time, raised his head to his throbbing knee.

‘Ha, fuck, even my knee is acting up.’

After briefly looking around, he took out the spray-type pain reliever he had secretly prepared and quickly sprayed it on his knee.

A cool yet hot sensation spread through his knee, and his throbbing knee felt a bit better.

He frowned for a moment and then stood up again.

‘Hoo, good, good. Let’s see until the end. I’ll shut you all up.’

His agent recommended he get it checked, but he couldn’t now.

He had to keep his position.

####

After recording 8 hits, 2 home runs, 9 RBIs [runs batted in], and 2 walks in 17 at-bats in the 4-game series against the Birmingham Barons,

Lee Jung-woo, who returned home after a long time, also played in the game against the Mobile BayBears.

‘Spray hitter. His batting average isn’t great, but his hit distribution is consistent.’

The hitter, who was causing a stir in the data as a person of interest, stepped up to the plate.

Lee Jung-woo, standing at shortstop and watching him, prepared to react instantly.

And then came the hit.

The pitcher reflexively turned his head as the ball, pushed on the 3rd pitch without hesitation, flew like a bullet.

‘I can catch it. It’s not that high.’

It was a hittable pitch, but the pitcher’s eyes held a faint hope.

He had faith that the shortstop would catch it.

And Lee Jung-woo, who jumped up, fulfilled that expectation.

This level of hit was too easy for him.

Lee Jung-woo, who caught the ball with his outstretched glove, shook the ball around as if showing off.

Only then did the pitcher wipe his chest and smile brightly.

“Nice play!”

“Take it easy. I’ll catch most of them for you.”

As Lee Jung-woo tapped his glove and spoke, the pitcher nodded repeatedly.

It’s comforting to have a player like that.

Even if he can’t directly catch the hitter, it gives you the confidence that he’ll somehow handle it.

The pitcher, filled with faith in the defense, caught the next hitter with a confident pitch.

Finishing the defense smoothly.

Lee Jung-woo, returning to the bench, wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Thanks, I blocked it well thanks to you.”

“If you’re really thankful, block the next inning with three strikeouts. So I can rest a bit too.”

“Of course, I have to do that. Just watch comfortably.”

Lee Jung-woo, who passed the pitcher with a smirk, fluttered his uniform in the humid weather.

‘It’s definitely starting to get hotter.’

As time passed and it entered mid-May.

The heat was gradually arriving.

Not the sweltering heat that would require turning on the air conditioner.

But enough to make him feel annoyed by the stuffiness.

And because there wasn’t a single cloud, he was directly exposed to the scorching sun, so Lee Jung-woo kept fanning himself to cool the sweat.

But there was a faint smile on his lips.

Although it was a bit unpleasant.

He liked the heat.

To be exact, he liked the passing time.

‘Once summer passes… it’s finally the majors.’

When the heat subsides and autumn comes, the expansion roster [the list of players a team can add to their major league roster in September] opens.

Unless he suddenly gets injured or falls into a slump and screws up.

His turn will come too.

Because he has performed well enough to be one of the 40.

That was certain.

In fact, the rumors were slowly emerging.

His name was being mentioned among the expansion roster figures predicted by fan communities and experts.

Lee Jung-woo, who heard it through Mark, didn’t just hate the hot weather.

Because if this passes, he’ll be able to step onto the league of dreams.

‘Hoo, let’s focus on the game first. Don’t just dream empty dreams.’

Dreaming of a hopeful future.

Lee Jung-woo, who was smiling pleasantly, picked up the bat with a serious face again.

That’s that, and this is this.

He had to focus on the immediate game.

‘I’m the first batter of the inning, so I have to make a good start.’

Since the change of offense and defense was over.

It was his turn to bat first in the inning.

“Blow one cool shot and blow up the pitcher’s mentality. Or just take him down. He’s a bit annoying.”

“I’ll have to do that if I can. Watch closely.”

Leaving the request behind.

Lee Jung-woo, who went up to the plate, was looked at by the pitcher as if he was annoyed.

His expression seemed to be asking, ‘Why is he the first batter of the inning?’

Lee Jung-woo, who bounced his body slightly as usual and tapped the floor with his bat, made the pitcher, who was unnecessarily adjusting his hat, shake his head repeatedly.

‘Was the hit earlier big?’

Looking at the pitcher hesitating without making a decision.

It seemed that the sweeping double that hit the fence in the previous at-bat had properly shaken him.

Then it was time to break him down completely this time.

And he was confident he could.

‘It’s getting a bit long…’

Lee Jung-woo glanced at the catcher.

The catcher, who was wiping his face for a long time, seemed to have a lot of complicated thoughts.

“Why? Is he not listening?”

“Well, something like that. By the way, your performance is going crazy. What kind of bat do you use? Should I change it too?”

“Well. I think it’s best to use what suits you best?”

“That’s true. But recommend me just one. I use a long one too.”

Lee Jung-woo raised his eyebrows at the catcher who spoke unexpectedly friendly.

Usually, scratching their insides at times like this would result in them spewing out curses, or just ignoring them, but he was being cordial.

The problem was that the pitcher on the mound wasn’t.

Eventually, the coach and catcher went up to the mound to talk to the pitcher who kept shaking his head.

Watching them seriously talking, Lee Jung-woo predicted.

‘Be confident, don’t be scared. It’s nothing. It’s just one point. Let’s aim for the outside of the zone. One of these…’

Whether it’s learning from coaching training.

Most of the advice was similar, so the content of the conversation could be roughly guessed.

‘He’s already shaking. He’s not going to throw a breaking ball [a pitch that curves or changes direction] as the first pitch out of the blue to recover his confidence. He’s going to throw a fastball. Then a two-seamer or a four-seamer [types of fastballs]. He got hit hard by a four-seamer, so is a two-seamer going to come?’

Of course, no one knows.

Conversely, a changeup [a slow pitch designed to deceive the batter] might come out.

But if you think like that, there’s no end to it, so Lee Jung-woo, who cleared his head, focused on the fastball.

Subsequently, the catcher who came down squatted behind home plate.

Only the sound of breathing could be heard.

The spectators were originally quiet.

It wasn’t a hit or a home run, so they were calmly watching the game.

When the silence continued.

The pitcher nodded.

He made his decision so quickly that it was hard to believe he had been dragging it out until now.

And the ball, thrown from the set position without a windup even though there was no runner, suddenly flew.

But without panicking.