Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 52

Bottom of the 1st, the Phillies batters returned to the dugout, shaking their heads in unison.

Clearly, all three batted balls had good trajectories and were accurately hit, deserving to be hits under normal circumstances.

[He hit it! Lee is running… He caught it! He caught it again!]

That damn oriental shortstop was the problem.

He dove and caught the ball that had cleanly pierced the gap between third base and shortstop, a ball that would have rolled far into the outfield if things had gone as expected.

The moment he caught it, he turned his body and threw the ball to first base.

When the first base umpire declared “out,” he nonchalantly got up and dusted the dirt off his uniform.

[The Braves finish the bottom of the 1st with a three-up, three-down.]

[Lee caught all three out counts. He single-handedly shut down the inning.]

The gazes directed at Lee, who was chatting happily with the pitcher as he returned, were of two kinds.

Either burning fiercely like molten lava, or blank like someone who hadn’t fully woken up yet.

It was only one inning, but.

The defense he showed during that short time was astonishing.

He turned three potential hits into three outs.

“What the hell is he… Didn’t they say he came up from the minors?”

“No… Is that even possible? I definitely can’t do that.”

The Phillies batters grumbled as they returned to the bench, looking dejected and listless.

Something felt ominous.

It was as if a large spider web had been set up on one side of the field.

A sticky spider web that could never be broken through.

If they were good enough to hold out as starters in the majors, they each had a natural instinct for the game.

Today, that instinct was screaming especially loudly.

Never send it towards the shortstop, and if you have to, launch it high with the determination to clear the fence.

As that strange auditory hallucination lingered in his ears,

Lee, who was returning to the dugout, smiled at them.

A look that said, ‘Just try it if you dare.’

That was caught perfectly by the camera and appeared on the scoreboard, causing a huge roar of boos, but.

He was as calm as an audience member in a classical concert hall.

“The opposing shortstop seems to be in excellent form.”

“He defended cleanly in the 1st and 2nd games, but… Today is on another level.”

The Phillies’ manager, Rosie, was someone who had been around baseball for a long time.

Therefore, he knew how dangerous a player with heightened senses could be.

And he had seen countless times how one player in “the zone” could shake up an entire series.

This was dangerous.

“Hmm….”

His eyes, letting out a low groan, turned to Lee, who was chatting with his teammates as he prepared to bat.

He had expected a winning series. If he messed up, he felt like he could be eaten alive instead.

“I thought he was just a frisky cat….”

It seemed like he was a lion cub after all.

And a male lion whose growth had begun, with a fairly thick mane growing.

####

The good feeling continued as he came up to the on-deck circle.

If he felt like he could catch anything during defense,

Now, the thought that he could hit anything that came his way was slowly rising.

‘When was the last time my body felt this good?’

It wasn’t a common experience, but.

It did happen occasionally.

That day was the only day Lee Jung-woo could get a win. [As a pitcher, wins are a key statistic.]

Well, other pitchers might have aimed for a great record.

For a washed-up pitcher, one win had a similar value to such a great record.

‘I don’t know how long this condition will last, but I should use it as much as possible for now.’

In the on-deck circle, Lee Jung-woo swung his bat a few times.

Like when he lightly tee-batted before the game, a heavy sonic boom seemed to tear through the air.

It was actually tee-batting and free-batting, but the flight distance was definitely a little longer than usual.

It wasn’t just a feeling; his physical condition was definitely different today.

‘At this rate, if I connect, it’s definitely going to be a long hit.’

It depends on the pitcher’s skill.

If it was an average pitcher, he could hit a long hit just by making contact.

If he hit it close to the sweet spot, he could aim for even more.

‘Don’t be too greedy. The better I feel, the calmer I need to be. Just do what you usually do.’

Lee Jung-woo, who suppressed his greedy thoughts, looked at the opposing team’s starting pitcher, Glazer, who was facing Popin, the lead batter in this inning.

‘A ground ball pitcher, one who focuses on location rather than pure power.’

As you could see from the way he handled the crisis in the first inning with an infield double play.

Glazer, the Phillies’ fourth starter, pitched in a way that matched the batter by throwing the ball as low or as far to the outside as possible.

His ability to consistently deliver average performances, as expected from a fourth starter, was his strength.

The number of rotations [referring to the spin rate of the ball] fluctuated around the league average or slightly below it.

In that respect,

Lee Jung-woo had good compatibility.

‘Even if it’s low or far, just hit it and lift it up.’

Thanks to his long reach and the way he gripped the bat, he could handle low or outside pitches effectively.

And he knew how to elevate the hit ball using his natural power.

He had always done that.

That’s why Lee Jung-woo was confident in this at-bat.

‘I hope Popin gets on base….’

As if hearing his earnest wish,

Popin picked out a high fastball and walked leisurely to first base.

Now it was Lee Jung-woo’s turn.

“Boo-oo-oo.”

After hearing it for three days in a row,

The jeers, which had now become somewhat familiar, echoed from all directions.

When Lee Jung-woo came to the plate with the same indifferent face he had shown throughout the series, the pitcher seemed somewhat uncomfortable.

‘It’s annoying. His skills are still unproven, yet he looks so confident. And there’s a runner on base.’

Most pitchers easily handle batters who are only strong.

But in one corner of their hearts, they always harbored fear.

Because they didn’t know when, where, or how a long hit would explode.

Lee Jung-woo, who briefly smiled inwardly at the pitcher’s reaction, briefly recalled the data again.

‘Two-seam fastball, sinker, changeup, curveball. Among these, the sinker is used more like a changeup than a fastball.’

Except for the curveball, all of them were textbook ground ball pitches.

Each of them was a difficult pitch for batters because they had a high probability of resulting in weak contact.

Fortunately, Lee Jung-woo didn’t hate them as much as sliders.

‘Let’s see what he’s got first. I’ll let the first pitch go.’

Lee Jung-woo, who had organized his thoughts, looked at the pitcher with his unique upright batting stance.

Then, after briefly coordinating their signals, the pitcher threw the ball.

The first pitch was a slightly low two-seam fastball, and the umpire called it a ball.

“Ball.”

Even though it seemed like it was slightly on the edge.

The catcher didn’t say anything because it wasn’t much different from the previous calls.

When the catcher glanced at Lee Jung-woo for a moment, he blankly looked at the mound and processed the information he had obtained.

‘Speed is 92 miles per hour. The tailing [the late movement of the ball] isn’t that severe. The velocity is a little faster than I heard. The two-seam is said to have a maximum speed of 94 miles per hour? It’s not blazing, but let’s be careful for now.’

When his eyes came back to life, the catcher chattered as if he had been waiting.

“Have you thought about everything? You looked blank; are you tired? You worked hard for two games, so you should rest today, just roll the ball lightly. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“I’ll think about it if you give me about 10 billion dollars. With that money, I can buy the Phillies and release you, right? That’s a pretty good deal. How about it?”

“You must be crazy from the heat.”

Lee Jung-woo, who shut the catcher’s mouth with absurd words, waited patiently until the desired pitch came after that.

The at-bat went on until the 9th pitch due to Lee Jung-woo, who fouled off borderline pitches or took the close ones.

[Is the timing not right? Lee continues to foul it off.]

[The pitcher must be upset. He’s already thrown 16 pitches combined for Popin and Lee in this inning? Even if he finishes the inning well, he’ll feel uneasy.]

The pitcher, who was clearly trying to avoid a long hit and throwing each ball with all his might, wiped the sweat from his forehead as his stamina was being consumed.

Lee Jung-woo, who kept his eyes on him and tapped the ground with his bat, took a brief breath.

‘Fouling them off is easier than I thought. I can see the ball properly. Is this also thanks to my condition?’

Although he had many at-bats during the exhibition game and Double-A,

His eye for the ball wouldn’t have improved just by doing that.

The fouls he made so easily against major leaguers were probably thanks to his heightened senses.

That gave Lee Jung-woo’s head, which had only contained hits and home runs, a third option.

‘Should I draw it out even more? I think I can increase the number of pitches a little more.’

If he ate up more pitches, the next batters would be more comfortable.

Because they can see the ball a lot, and the pitcher’s stamina also decreases.

‘If it was a minor league that I was just passing through, I would have just focused on my own stats. This is the final destination.’

There’s nothing more to go up from here.

So, it seemed like it would be okay to raise his reputation by batting for the team now.

On the other hand, he also wanted to see how long he could terrorize the pitcher.

‘Okay, let’s try terrorizing him.’

The pitcher frowned as if he had received some bad vibes from Lee Jung-woo’s face.

Maybe he was just annoyed by the long at-bat.

But whatever the case, the fact that a thorny path was unfolding in front of him remained unchanged.

“Foul!”

“Foul.”

Lee Jung-woo, who was fouling off pitches regardless of whether it was a ball or a strike,

Glazer’s frown deepened as the number of pitches increased.

Eventually, it stuck when the number of pitches in this at-bat reached 15.

[Is he going to get out? Ah, Lee tenaciously fouls it off. This is the 15th pitch. The pitcher is shaking.]

[It’s certain, Lee is doing team batting. The subsequent batters are grateful for this.]

[Is he tired? Pitcher Glazer wipes his forehead again.]

The commentators were tongue-tied.

Lee Jung-woo, who followed the ball to the end and fouled it off even when it was obviously going to be a ball, was so relentless that it seemed like he had a grudge against the pitcher.

Honestly, this kind of at-bat was a chore even for the viewers.

Of course, for the person being attacked, it wasn’t just a chore; it was hell itself.

“Hey, get out of here now.”

“The timing is strangely off. It’s so strange, isn’t it?”

“You son of a bitch….”

“I’ll be out soon, don’t worry.”

That was true.

Seeing that he was drooping, he had done enough, and he might just send him out with a walk.

Lee Jung-woo was planning to stop here.

‘Now, if the pitch is in a good location… As long as it’s not too far outside or a waste pitch, I can definitely hit it.’

Perhaps because he kept swinging against the same pitcher, the batting timing was definitely synced with Glazer’s pitching.

Now he had a perfect feel for it.

The pitcher, who seemed much more tired than when he first came to the plate, wound up.

Perhaps because he had been watching him, he could now see even the smallest movements well.

‘He’s concentrating. A mistake? No, he adjusted his grip.’

A fastball that would be easy to hit in the center.

It could just be a mistake, but he had a strange feeling.

He thought that maybe he was trying to deceive him and catch him off guard with that tired face.

So Lee Jung-woo extended his bat to match the changeup timing.

As he expected, the ball that was flying in similarly to a fastball changed after a little time.

Bang-

The ball was caught in his swing, but.

He didn’t feel it in his hands.

That meant.

This one was a home run.

“Fuuuuuck!”

“You son of a bitch!”

As had been the case throughout this series, the Phillies fans “celebrated” Lee Jung-woo with loud jeers.

####

The floodgates were opened.

That’s what Lee Jung-woo thought.

The batters, who had been scoring little by little throughout the series, suddenly unleashed a fierce attack.

Because he knocked down starting pitcher Glazer and the subsequent relief pitcher.

Of course, Lee Jung-woo’s contribution to that was significant.

He took at least 10 pitches each time a new pitcher came up.

The effect of that was reflected in the score of 14 points clearly written on the scoreboard.

Of course, he didn’t just do good things for others.

4 at-bats, 3 hits, 3 runs, 1 home run, 1 walk, 5 RBIs.

He was the MVP of this game, no matter what anyone said.

Just looking at the batting, that is.

If Lee Jung-woo directly opened the floodgates for the Braves batters with his hitting,

Conversely, he personally blocked the Phillies’ offense in defense.

[Lee flies again! He has seven out counts in today’s game alone!]

[This is practically the same as Lee deploying a defensive shift by himself. He single-handedly blocked the space from 3rd base to the shortstop position.]

Bottom of the 8th.

While the Braves had scored 14 points so far, the Phillies’ scoreboard hadn’t changed from the beginning.

0. It was just 0.

The main reason was that Lee Jung-woo, who came to his side or chased after it even if it was a little far away, and caught it like a ghost, dominated the space.

All that passed him during this game was a fly ball that floated high and was caught by the left fielder.

“What the hell are you? Do you have springs on your feet? Or do you have thrusters on your shoes? Oh, are you a modified human made in Korea to test in the major leagues?”

“It’s burdensome, so do it moderately, Stewart. I was just lucky.”

“What crazy bastard defends like you with luck?”

Stewart, who had suddenly maintained a shutout pace until the 8th inning, looked dumbfounded.

Lee Jung-woo scratched the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed.

To be honest, this is really, really luck.

He knows it well because he is himself.

His defensive power is definitely great, but it wasn’t at this level.

It was just thanks to his abnormally good physical condition during today’s game.

“If you had run from the beginning… My ERA would be in the early 3s now….”

When Stewart looked at Lee Jung-woo with affectionate eyes, the other players were a little away from them.

Derek, who had been participating in the praise until just before, only gave an awkward smile when his eyes met him.

“Why are they doing that?”

Stewart tilted his head when he saw that, but Lee Jung-woo knew the reason.

‘I’m not pitching a perfect game or a no-hitter. Why are you doing this….’

The hits he hit during the four at-bats were a total of three: a home run, a triple, and a double.

He only had one single left to hit for the cycle.

‘My at-bat is in the top of the 9th, so I still have a chance left. The problem is whether the Phillies, who are full of anger, will compete.’

They didn’t like the hateful guy anyway.

They didn’t want to give him even a record.

They could just throw it away and issue an intentional walk.

Even if it wasn’t an intentional walk, they would try to make it as difficult as possible.

‘But I have to achieve it.’

If he could just do it,

The player Lee Jung-woo will suddenly rise to stardom.

Even now, he is receiving considerable attention as a rookie who is doing quite well.

Hitting for the cycle will be the final blow to that.

That’s why Lee Jung-woo hardened his heart and went into the dugout.

“Aren’t you guys getting ready?”

“Oh, oh? I have to, I have to.”

“How can that rookie be so brave….”

“Are all the kids these days like that?”

The players, who were tongue-tied as they looked at him, who was as indifferent as ever, then moved busily and prepared.

Lee Jung-woo quickly quenched his dry throat.

He was calm on the outside, but his heart was also pounding a little.

It was a record he had already achieved once in Single A last year.

But the stakes are different now, right?

He was also nervous because he was a human being.

And the most burdensome thing was that he was the lead batter in the inning.

‘I wish there was a runner in front of me; I would feel a little more comfortable….’

Lee Jung-woo shook his head once and then regained his composure.

He walked out onto the field after the offense and defense were over.

Hostile gazes stung his skin.

Not only the Phillies fans, but also the players were glaring at him.

As if to say, be satisfied with what you’ve got.

‘Just tap it, just tap it.’

Lee Jung-woo took a deep breath as he entered the plate, chanting the words that the hitting coaches often said like a mantra.

“I don’t know if it’s because he can’t control it, but he sometimes hits the batters. Be careful to avoid it.”

It was no different from a declaration of war that he would hit him outright.

But Lee Jung-woo was not fooled.

He could understand giving a walk to a batter who was about to set a record.

If he threw a beanball [a pitch intentionally aimed at the batter’s head], the Phillies supporters would immediately protest.

The Phillies would become the laughing stock of baseball fans.

‘I’ll hit it no matter what if it comes close. I’ll hit it and run.’

Lee Jung-woo glared at the pitcher, exuding a fierce energy.

As if to say, go ahead and try.

The pitcher flinched slightly, as if he was overwhelmed, and soon looked at the bench.

As if asking what to do.

‘You’re a player too, just compete fairly. Aren’t you ashamed? He’s a guy who came up from the minors a few days ago?’

Lee Jung-woo shouted silently, but the pitcher wasn’t looking at him.

Soon, the Phillies’ intentions were conveyed from the ball he threw.

‘You want me to hit this? Isn’t this just an intentional walk?’

A ball that was thrown far outside the strike zone.

The only reason the catcher didn’t get up was.

It was no different from an intentional walk.

Lee Jung-woo couldn’t even swing because he was so dumbfounded.

The count went to three balls as it was.

‘This can’t happen. You sons of bitches.’

He even said swear words that he doesn’t usually use.

He tried not to be conscious of the record.

But when he actually faced it, he couldn’t help but be conscious of it.

Lee Jung-woo, who was desperately looking at the pitcher, realized his choice from the pitcher who was turning his gaze away from him. He didn’t like it mentally, but he was trying to follow the instructions.

‘I can’t do this. I’ll cut it off somehow. I’ll force myself to make contact.’

Lee Jung-woo extended his bat as much as possible.

When he showed his will to make contact somehow, the catcher chattered again.

“Oh? Why don’t you just throw your bat? That would be great.”

“Shut up, coward.”

He didn’t have time to play with him.

Lee Jung-woo lightly shut his mouth and didn’t even look at the catcher’s face, which had turned red.

He just focused his eyes on the pitcher’s hand.

And when he threw the ball soon after,

He opened his eyes wide.

‘This is a mistake; it’s closer than I thought.’

Maybe the pitcher, who was embarrassed to do this to a rookie, seemed to have slipped a little because his heart was shaken.