Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 83

“Those guys must have had a hard time.”

Before the second game started.

While preparing for the game.

While getting into game mode.

Lee Jung-woo arrived earlier than most of the home fans.

He clicked his tongue, observing the Phillies fans who had already filled their seats.

He was impressed by their dedication, but his attention was particularly drawn to the cheering equipment—or, more accurately, the dangerous-looking weapons—some of them were carrying.

“Why? Oh, that? They sometimes bring that stuff to away games.”

“They’re crazy, seriously. How did they even manage to get that on a plane?”

“Why? I think it’s kind of amazing in a way.”

“But when they start cursing like crazy after every run allowed, doesn’t that prove they’re nuts?”

“Well, yeah, that’s true.”

The sight of the small group of Phillies fans was peculiar.

It was like they were the ultimate Japanophiles [people obsessed with Japanese culture].

They were armed with items that made you wonder how they’d even managed to transport them.

‘Come to think of it, wasn’t Iwakuma’s nickname in the States ‘The Last Samurai’? I think it’s based on an old classic movie. So that’s why they’re doing this.’

The Last Samurai.

There was a time when he was the only Japanese pitcher in Major League Baseball.

That’s when he earned that nickname.

Phillies fans seemed to embrace it wholeheartedly.

Seeing them adopt it and create costumes like this.

Wearing imitation swords shaped like katanas [traditional Japanese swords] and Japanese helmets, likely to combat the summer heat.

Underneath, they sported Phillies uniforms.

A handful of enthusiastic Phillies fans were leading the charge, acting as cheerleaders, already unleashing a torrent of curses and endless praise for their pitcher.

Seeing their dedication, he almost felt like applauding.

“Axes are the best, axes. Axes are better than swords.”

“That’s right, that’s right, and the tomahawk is the best of all. You’re right.”

“Our captain is speaking the truth.”

Derek scoffed, but he couldn’t hide his subtle pride in the Braves’ cheering symbol, the tomahawk axe.

His love for the team was also extraordinary.

The players passing by seemed touched by their dedication.

They nodded in agreement, affirming his statement.

Lee Jung-woo also nodded.

However, his attention wasn’t on Derek, but on Takeshi Iwakuma, who was diligently running on the sidelines, getting himself warmed up.

‘I’ll have to face him first, but if the forkball works, it’ll be easier. If not, it’ll be very tricky.’

Even if his forkball didn’t work against Lee Jung-woo’s strengths, he wasn’t afraid.

Right now, Lee Jung-woo was undeniably a true major leaguer.

‘Let’s have a good game, Mr. Samurai.’

####

[Yes, the game is starting. The Phillies are batting first. Just considering the starting lineups, the Phillies have the advantage, right?]

[I feel sorry for Christensen, but it’s a mismatch. It’s the second starter versus the ace. At first glance, you might think it’s doable, but it’s overwhelming.]

Even the Korean commentators, who were obligated to be as favorable to the Braves as possible, evaluated that the Phillies were much stronger, at least in the starting pitcher matchup.

Frankly, they were on different levels.

Christensen was the Braves’ ace, or number one starter, before Mason arrived, and he was still the second starter now.

But that was only possible on a Braves team that lacked a solid one-two punch.

On another team, he would be a decent pitcher, perfect as a third starter.

Comparing Christensen to Takeshi Iwakuma, who was being considered a Cy Young Award [award given to the best pitchers in Major League Baseball] candidate, the advantage was heavily skewed to one side.

[However, the Braves’ batting lineup has more explosive power. The lower batting order is a bit weaker, but.]

[The upper batting order is known as one of the best in the league. When Rollins and Hunt get on base, it leads to the cleanup hitters, Freedman-Peterson-Lee Jung-woo, boasting the league’s best firepower.]

Of course, that didn’t mean they didn’t discuss the Braves’ weaknesses.

Partly because Lee Jung-woo, a Korean major leaguer, was playing there, they were talking about it more favorably, but the general consensus was that the Braves’ batting lineup’s destructive power surpassed that of the Phillies.

If they could get that going, they might be able to overcome their weakness in the starting pitcher matchup.

The commentators watched the start of the game, hoping that Lee Jung-woo would be the one to ignite that powder keg, if possible.

The Phillies’ attack in the top of the first inning was potent, but it didn’t achieve complete success.

[Christensen, who initially had a bit of trouble with his control, eventually strikes out the batter, recording the third out.]

[The Phillies miss an opportunity with runners on first and third.]

“Opportunity after crisis, you know? Let’s do it like yesterday! Just like yesterday!”

As the offense and defense switched, the players gathered their bats and helmets, and Lee Jung-woo, who had dirtied himself in the previous defensive play to record an out, grabbed his familiar bat and gripped it.

After the brief field cleanup, Rollins, as the leadoff hitter for the Braves, stepped up to the plate to assess the opposing pitcher.

[Rollins comes to the plate.]

[His goal is probably simple: to somehow increase the opposing starter’s pitch count.]

[Yes, if they can somehow force the starter out early, the Phillies’ bullpen isn’t very strong. After that, it’ll be easier.]

As the commentators noted, Rollins adopted a batting stance that emphasized plate discipline more than usual.

His face, crouched low and intently focused on the ball, radiated determination.

It would be great if everything worked out by trying so hard.

Unfortunately, reality wasn’t that kind.

Rollins quickly found himself in a two-strike count.

‘Even from the dugout, his form is consistent. He throws the forkball with the same motion as his fastball. No wonder the swings come out so easily.’

Lee Jung-woo clicked his tongue.

From the perspective of someone who was once a pitcher, he knew how valuable a consistent pitching form was.

And he had a rough idea of how much effort Iwakuma had invested in perfecting it.

‘And the ball itself is good. Rollins tried to cut it, but his swing went over the ball.’

In other words, the vertical movement is excellent. In Japan, Iwakuma Takeshi’s fastball is often called a rising fastball.

The ball doesn’t actually rise; it just doesn’t drop as much, but, from the batter’s perspective, it probably feels like it’s rising.

‘With that kind of fastball backed by a forkball that drops sharply, it’s no wonder he’s doing so well.’

He was excited because Iwakuma seemed to embody all sorts of Japanese baseball ideals.

To stand on the same stage as such a pitcher, facing him as an opponent, and having the possibility of hitting such a pitcher’s ball, filled him with excitement.

Perhaps because of that, even when Rollins struck out on three pitches, Lee Jung-woo’s face was softer than usual.

‘I still need to see more, but I don’t think it’ll be my turn this inning.’

He had a feeling like that.

But Lee Jung-woo didn’t loosen his grip on the bat and continued to watch the game.

As expected, he didn’t get a chance in the bottom of the first inning.

[Takeshi Iwakuma strikes out Joey Freedman, striking out three batters in a row and cleanly erasing the bottom of the first inning.]

[Amazing. Honestly, it’s so amazing that I’m jealous. I wish we had a pitcher like that in Korea.]

“KKK! That’s our ace!”

“Hahaha, you guys were all worked up yesterday. Nothing special! Idiots!”

“Losing streak starts now. Don’t get scared already!”

“Iwakuma! Take it easy, take it easy! These guys are pushovers. Just warm up a little!”

The emboldened Phillies fans shouted enthusiastically, their voices echoing through Truist Park, amplified by their large numbers for an away game.

They would have to quiet down in the next inning.

“Poppin’!”

The top of the second inning started.

Christensen’s heart sank when he hit the leadoff hitter, the opposing sixth batter, with the first pitch.

But Lee Jung-woo was behind him.

Lee Jung-woo leaped up and caught the batted ball that was flying close to third base.

He threw it to first base, catching the runner and relieving Christensen’s worries.

“Thanks. Keep it up.”

Christensen frowned, as if he didn’t like something.

He didn’t forget to thank Lee Jung-woo, and Lee Jung-woo, who answered by tapping his glove lightly, faithfully carried out his request.

Boasting an insane defensive range, he single-handedly covered the area from second to third base.

He handled everything from hard-hit balls between third and shortstop to routine ground balls.

In fact, he single-handedly shut down the inning.

“Three consecutive strikeouts? Oh, that’s great. But this is amazing too, how about it?”

“Three up, three down, I’ve never seen anything like this before. Thanks! I enjoyed it!”

“You guys don’t have a shortstop like this, do you? No, you’re playing baseball without a Lido [slang term for a great shortstop]? You guys are so pathetic?”

The result was perhaps even more impressive than three consecutive strikeouts.

Three up, three down. A record commonly referred to as a 1-2-3 inning in the United States was completed.

Even if they were facing the lower batting order, it was a rare sight.

The Braves fans seized the opportunity to mock them, and the Phillies fans, who had been praising their ace’s good start, raised their voices to the point of collapse.

“You XX like XX bastards want to die!”

“I’ve got my eye on you! Stay in the parking lot after the game! You XXXXX!”

In this heartwarming and beautiful exchange, Christensen casually put his arm around Lee Jung-woo’s shoulder as he trudged into the dugout.

“Thanks a lot. Actually, my condition wasn’t very good today. Thanks to you, I avoided giving up a run from the start.”

“If you keep doing what you’re doing, you won’t give up a run later either. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Then Christensen, who smiled faintly, looked a little different than before.

He seemed like someone who had made up his mind.

Lee Jung-woo also understood that reaction because he sometimes felt energized when the defense played well.

He wanted to ease his burden so that he could continue to pitch well.

‘Let’s just do what I’m doing at the plate.’

####

Takeshi Iwakuma, who returned to the mound without even resting a little in an inning that ended faster than his own, maintained a calm face.

But inside, he was shocked.

‘His defense is better than I expected. Not just among rookies, but even compared to a Gold Glove winner [award given to the best defensive players]. Even better.’

He was aware of it.

The Phillies fans, as well as the fans in his home country, wanted him to crush the Korean rookie, but they were also worried that their symbol, Takeshi Iwakuma himself, might falter.

He couldn’t help but be conscious of Lee Jung-woo.

On one hand, it was humiliating to compare himself, a veteran, to a rookie who had just debuted.

But when he heard stories of running home runs, splash hits [home run into a body of water], and three home runs in one game, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the rookie’s skills.

‘He’s an amazing guy. Among the rookies I’ve seen so far, has there ever been a guy like that?’

Not just in Major League Baseball, but even looking back to his days in Japanese professional baseball, there was no rookie as destructive as him other than himself.

He didn’t face that rookie when he was first called up, but he saw him directly from the bench.

Now that he was facing him again as a player playing in a much larger form, he was more conscious than he thought.

To be honest, he was envious of the Braves pitchers who could have such a shortstop behind them.

‘His defense is amazing, and he’s good at hitting. He’s amazing.’

He recalled Lee Jung-woo’s performance again and shook his head without realizing it.

Suddenly, he remembered a post he saw on the internet last night.

Was it said that his performance was like a playable character in a baseball game?

It was an accurate assessment that made him laugh.

A rookie who debuted in June has already hit 12 home runs. His batting average is still .400 a month after his debut.

This is difficult even in video games.

‘So I have to crush him for sure. The fans want that.’

But that’s it.

A very good prospect.

To Iwakuma himself, that rookie was just that, and he and the rookie were not on the same level.

He’s good, but he can’t be more than that.

He wanted to let the Japanese media, who rushed at him before the game and put pressure on him, and the Korean media, who dared to bring such a rookie to his attention, know that.

‘He’s said to be strong against curveballs and splitters—to be exact, balls with vertical movement.’

The power analysis team even ‘recommended’ him to refrain from using forkballs as much as possible.

Because Iwakuma’s position was so great, they couldn’t dare to force him.

But he was very displeased with the way they subtly suggested that.

The forkball that had brought him this far was, as others said, also a fastball to Iwakuma himself.

A weapon that would bring him not only the glory of the present but also the glory of the future.

He didn’t throw it just because his father, who was an amateur player, taught him.

It was that powerful.

He liked the forkball, and he believed in it—very deeply.

Perhaps even more than his beloved wife.

“Hmph-”

“Iwakumaaaaa!”

“KKKK! Let’s add one more K!”

He’s doing so well like this now.

[Takeshi Iwakuma even strikes out fourth batter Peterson, continuing his streak of four consecutive strikeouts.]

[It’s really overwhelming stuff. It’s perfect.]

He’s catching the opposing batter so surely.

To tell him to refrain from this? To hold back? Takeshi Iwakuma scoffed.

Those who sit at comfortable desks, sitting in the cool air conditioning, those who don’t feel the taste of baseball will never know by watching and analyzing the game with videos in the office.

“Strike that XX bastard out too! I believe in you, Iwakuma!”

Takeshi Iwakuma, who had flown all the way to Atlanta, waved his hand slightly to the fans who were cheering him on enthusiastically in a slightly ridiculous appearance, and soon focused on the batter who was coming up.

He believed that the brat would not get on base in today’s game.

No, even if you put all the Braves batters together, only today.

Iwakuma, who smiled at the cute brat who was glaring at him, soon wound up greatly.

The long arm, which was even nicknamed Saru [monkey] when he was young, moved flexibly.

He shot the ball from the tip of his hand.

“Strike!”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

[Oh, I don’t think the speed measurement is wrong. That must be right, right? 100 miles per hour was recorded on the scoreboard.]

[Takeshi Iwakuma, who is in particularly good condition in today’s game, renews his top speed.]

Iwakuma smiled when he saw the batter swinging wildly.

Yes, that’s right.

It should be like that.

He didn’t give the batter a chance to calm down and immediately threw a shoot-two seam [a fastball that moves slightly].

Lee Jung-woo held back, but the ball went right into the strike zone in a hateful way.

Now two strikes.

He gripped the ball as if to show off.

If he’s a good observer, he’ll have seen it properly.

It was a kind of provocation.

‘You’re so good at hitting vertical movement? Then try hitting this.’ He was sending a challenge to the opponent.

Whether he didn’t see it, or whether he was just good at maintaining a poker face, the guy was just glaring at him with the expressionless face he always made in articles and videos.

But he didn’t care.

‘Let’s go, try hitting it.’

“Heup-”

The ball thrown with a firm arm caused the batter to widen his eyes.

Soon, he responded with a swing that was so powerful that it couldn’t be compared to the previous wild swing.

He twisted his body almost lying down.

The swing, which was erected vertically like a golf swing, flew towards the forkball.

But Takeshi Iwakuma didn’t hide his smile.

The forkball that fell sharply went right into the catcher’s glove, which was positioned close to the ground as if he were playing with a long bat.

The batter, who swung wildly in an unsightly manner, swung so hard that he made three swings and even knelt on one knee.

He barely supported his body with a bat.

‘How is it, can you hit it?’

He looked at the batter with a confident expression.

He was curious about the expression the batter, who would get up soon, would be making—despairing, raising his competitive spirit, or with challenging eyes.

It would be one of those.

“Hmm…”

But it wasn’t.

The face of the batter, who got up quickly and dusted off the dirt on his knees, was none of what he had expected.

He was just as indifferent as before. At first glance, he looked like someone who had given up.

He was worried.

As he returned to the dugout, the gaze looking at him felt ominous for some reason.

It felt like someone who had realized everything.