Pitcher’S End, Batter’S Start [EN]: Chapter 9

Lee Jung-woo reflected on the pitches he had observed so far.

Robin Dawson.

His pitching style seemed to revolve around inducing contact.

He likely used curves and changeups to keep the ball low.

Then, he’d throw high fastballs to induce swings and misses and ground balls.

Perhaps the hitters were too eager and couldn’t make solid contact.

But either way, it was working well in this game.

‘His stats show a low ERA [Earned Run Average, a measure of runs allowed per game] but not many strikeouts. He pitches outside the zone, so his walk rate is a bit high. His WHIP [Walks plus Hits per Inning Pitched, a measure of baserunners allowed] is high, and his BABIP [Batting Average on Balls In Play, measuring luck in fielding] isn’t great either.’

In many ways, he’s not a player that sabermetricians [baseball statisticians] would love.

Even if his ERA is low, his other indicators aren’t very good.

But seeing it live is different.

‘He knows how to induce ground balls right to where the defense can field them.’

Not those tricky ones that depend on the fielder’s skill.

He was good at sending them right where they could be caught.

He induced double plays well, too.

He must be having a particularly good day.

‘If he could always control the direction of his ground balls like that, he wouldn’t be in Single-A [the lowest level of minor league baseball].’

Lee Jung-woo watched him from the on-deck circle, swinging his bat.

He’s a tricky pitcher.

‘But his stuff itself isn’t that great. His velocity is average. They said mid-90s, but today it’s been in the low end [miles per hour].’

Dawson’s pitches, as seen from the dugout, were similar to those of the Braves’ pitchers.

Especially his curveball, which is just Single-A level.

It’s similar to, or even worse than, the ones he had been hitting well.

Of course, you never know in baseball until you step into the box.

But it didn’t seem too bad.

‘And the catcher’s calling a pretty standard game, too. It’s doable.’

As Lee Jung-woo thought that.

The cleanup hitter, Dolts, drew a walk and got on base.

Having grounded out without a chance in his previous at-bat, he must have learned something.

He laid off the high fastball that was meant to induce weak contact.

Then, watching the sharply dropping curve, he strolled to first base.

From there, he looked at Lee Jung-woo as if to say, ‘Your turn.’

‘His pride must be hurt. Well, he hasn’t had a decent hit in three at-bats.’

Lee Jung-woo nodded to him.

Then stepped into the batter’s box.

Before getting set.

He gave the umpire a slight nod.

It’s not a habit.

He did play in the KBO [Korean Baseball Organization], but.

Since he was a pitcher then.

He doesn’t have habits like nodding to the umpire.

It was just practical.

‘Umpires are human, too, and they like being shown respect.’

With the advancement of technology, the umpire’s role has diminished a lot, but.

Umpires still wield great power.

If a simple nod can win them over.

It’s not a bad trade.

“Weren’t you a pitcher? I remember you getting your pitches knocked over the fence.”

As he stepped into the box.

The catcher started trash-talking, as expected.

How he remembered that Lee Jung-woo was a pitcher.

He twisted it to mock him, but.

Lee Jung-woo snorted.

“I don’t know, maybe get your memory checked. As far as I remember, you never hit my pitches. You were 0-for-11 against me.”

The catcher shut his mouth at Lee Jung-woo’s words.

‘There aren’t any ugly guys like him among those who hit home runs’—he must have just blurted it out.

Seeing that he couldn’t argue, he must have just said it without really knowing.

Just as he was about to focus on the pitcher after shutting the catcher up.

The catcher started rambling again.

“Really? Whatever, how bad must you have been to go from pitcher to hitter? Did you torch the mound or something?”

‘I didn’t realize how annoying trash talk was when I was a pitcher.’

He wasn’t angry.

He wasn’t mentally weak enough to get worked up over random words.

It was just hard to concentrate with the constant chatter.

Still, Lee Jung-woo tried to focus on the pitcher on the mound.

Emptying his mind like chanting in a temple, he tried to predict the pitcher.

What kind of pitch would he throw?

‘He threw mostly fastballs on the first pitch. He sometimes threw changeups, but they were almost always balls.’

The pitcher had already walked a batter.

So, with a runner on base.

It would be hard to throw a ball on the first pitch.

Unless he was a real ice-water-in-his-veins type of guy.

So, he’d probably want to get a strike.

But he wouldn’t want to get hit hard, so he’d probably take something off.

‘So, low or inside courses are out. He’ll probably throw it outside. Should I swing?’

If the location was right, the result would be good.

He could probably get a comfortable hit.

But he didn’t like it.

‘Since I was subbed in as a DH [Designated Hitter], they probably won’t send out a pinch runner right away even if I get on base. But I might not get many chances. This might be my last at-bat.’

Considering how listlessly the other hitters were getting out.

This could be his first and last at-bat.

So, Lee Jung-woo got a little greedy.

‘Since I haven’t changed my batting stance, the team expects me to be a slugger.’

If they wanted a contact hitter.

They would have fixed his extreme batting form.

But Lee Jung-woo’s form is still suited for power hitters.

So, he had to deliver the kind of hit the team wanted.

‘An unexpected performance is good, but let’s give them what they want first. I’ll take the first pitch.’

That’s what Lee Jung-woo decided.

But he deliberately choked up on the bat and leaned slightly into the plate.

As if to say, ‘I’m getting on base no matter what you throw.’

This could put pressure on the pitcher.

He knew that because he was a pitcher.

What’s scarier than a hitter swinging for the fences.

Is a guy who’s trying to get on base by any means necessary.

There’s nothing more annoying than that with a runner on base.

Since there’s no information about him, the pitcher would likely think that.

The catcher, realizing his intention, said.

“Hey, you’re leaning in too much! Are you trying to get hit on purpose?”

“Oh, really? You know, I failed as a pitcher and switched to being a hitter, so my hitting is a bit awkward. Cut me some slack,” Lee Jung-woo replied with a straight face.

There wasn’t much more to say to that.

What could he do when he said it was because he lacked skill?

A veteran catcher would have threatened him or used the umpire to make him step back from the plate a bit.

But the catcher just grumbled annoyedly.

The pitcher seemed pressured by Lee Jung-woo’s close stance.

He threw the ball high and outside.

The umpire barely called it a strike.

But his intention was clear.

‘He’s feeling the pressure. Then I should ease it a bit.’

In the next pitch, Lee Jung-woo acted again.

He deliberately swung and missed at a slightly low changeup with his choked-up bat.

A swing trying to make contact at all costs.

The pitcher’s face relaxed.

He thought he was trying to get on base but didn’t have the skill.

The catcher started talking again.

“You need to practice more. What’s with that swing? You’re not practicing, just out at night-”

“That’s enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

Well, the umpire, annoyed by the noise, stopped him again.

‘Let’s wait. The timing will come.’

Lee Jung-woo waited for the next pitch.

He’d probably try to trick him.

He’d try to take advantage of the fact that he was swinging wildly but still trying to hit.

Lee Jung-woo waited calmly.

But he deliberately flinched.

As if he was about to swing but held back.

Low, high.

With two balls, the count was two and two.

It was time for the deciding pitch.

‘I showed a weakness for low pitches… hurry up and throw a curveball.’

Lee Jung-woo mentally urged the pitcher to throw the pitch he wanted.

This was the peak of this at-bat.

The plan was okay, but.

It was useless if the opponent didn’t follow along.

It would be difficult if it was a changeup or a fastball instead of a curveball.

He acted nonchalant but was sweating behind his back.

Lee Jung-woo gripped the bat long.

The pitcher threw the ball.

‘It’s here.’

Lee Jung-woo’s eyes widened.

The ball thrown from a slightly dynamic three-quarters delivery.

The course was visible.

The speed was palpable.

A curveball that he hadn’t thrown until now.

Coming in fully on the inside.

An ambiguous ball that could determine the count depending on the umpire’s discretion if left alone.

It could become a full count and put pressure on the pitcher.

But of course.

Lee Jung-woo, who had been waiting for it.

Had no intention of letting it go.

Crack-!

A tremendous sound of impact.

Some of the spectators who had been watching the game indifferently jumped up.

The same went for the Rome Braves’ dugout.

Lee Jung-woo gently put down his bat.

And lightly rounded the bases as if warming up before practice.

The sound of cheers rang out.

His teammates rushed out.

Dolts, who had stepped on home plate earlier, held out both hands to him.

After a light high-five, Lee Jung-woo smiled faintly at the loudly ringing stadium.

His debut was perfect.

The parade of zeros on the scoreboard had finally come to an end.

####

As Lee Jung-woo passed home plate and entered the dugout.

Faharo started chattering excitedly as if he had been waiting.

“See! It’s not that I’m bad, it’s just that Lee is good. He hits a home run as soon as he gets into the game? It’s only natural that my pitches get hit.”

“Yeah, you’re good.”

“He’s saying it himself? Hahaha.”

‘He’s more excited than me, who hit the home run.’

He must still be holding onto the fact that he was crushed in the mini-game.

Faharo was babbling, but the other pitchers felt the same way.

To be precise, those who had been crushed like Faharo regained their confidence.

Scott approached Lee Jung-woo, who was shaking his head at their cheering, and praised him.

“Good job! Really good job!”

“It’s all thanks to you, Coach.”

“Yeah, yeah, but why were you acting like that before the home run?”

Scott asked, puzzled by Lee Jung-woo’s unusual behavior.

Lee Jung-woo told him his thoughts.

“I did it on purpose. I thought he would throw a low curveball.”

Scott made a strange expression.

He thought he was an aggressive hitter who swung the bat fearlessly.

But his tendencies changed when he gained a weapon.

‘Is it because he’s a former pitcher? He calmly tricked his opponent. I don’t know how long it will last, but it’s not bad against young pitchers.’

Scott nodded.

Either way, this game improved Lee Jung-woo and his position.

A hitter who switched from pitcher to hitter.

And the coach who taught him, hitting a home run in his first game as a pinch hitter.

The team would definitely like it.

‘I was worried about what would happen if he failed.’

He taught him with a happy heart, but.

He was honestly worried.

But the results were good, even though it was only his first appearance.

Scott breathed a sigh of relief.

####

With the shutout broken.

The opposing manager must have thought the pitcher’s strength had waned, as Robin Dawson came down.

The Rome Braves also replaced their starting pitcher in the 8th inning, with both teams bringing up relief pitchers.

The game became sluggish again.

The hitters once again competed to die first, and the game ended 2-0.

The Rome Braves took the victory.

After the game, the players virtually recognized Lee Jung-woo as the MVP [Most Valuable Player].

Although he wasn’t actually selected because there was no broadcast of Single-A games.

The players acknowledged him.

It was only his first at-bat, but.

Still, the results of his efforts were visible, so they accepted him.

“Your swing was cool. Were you aiming for that pitch?”

“I just saw it.”

“Well, you crushed our team’s pitchers too. I’m talking about the guys who throw curves and splitters.”

“He definitely has great talent. To hit a home run so soon after switching to hitter.”

The players approached him, acting friendly or asking questions.

It could have been sickening to see them suddenly change their attitude, but.

Lee Jung-woo accepted them.

“He’s acting like a big shot after just one pinch-hit appearance.”

“Who can’t hit a home run off a worn-out pitcher?”

“If he gets to play next time, it’ll be something to see. Did you see him swing and miss at that changeup earlier?”

“Leave him alone. We won’t see his face after next year anyway. Isn’t he going to Rookie League?”

Of course, there were still those who didn’t look at him kindly.

But Lee Jung-woo tried not to think about those guys.

They were mostly guys he wouldn’t see after time passed anyway.

Whether they went up or he went up.

So, he just enjoyed the joy.

He’d have to practice again from tomorrow, potentially enduring blisters and sore muscles.

But for now, he just enjoyed it.

And patted himself on the back for the hard times he had endured.

‘Good job, Lee Jung-woo. Let’s keep up the good work. For about twenty years.’

With a bit of greed, of course.

####

After the game.

Lee Jung-woo, who had returned to his accommodation, contacted his mother first.

He just wanted to tell her the news.

When he last spoke to her.

She must have been very surprised and upset that her son was suddenly switching to hitter.

If he told her some good news, she would at least feel relieved.

“I’m doing well, so don’t worry. The team is treating me well. I hit a home run, so of course they’re treating me well.”

-Are you coming to Korea this winter? Your dad seems to miss you a lot, too.

“Winter?”

Lee Jung-woo hesitated for a moment.

He probably didn’t visit Korea last year.

He was too busy with rehabilitation, so he didn’t have the time or space to go to Korea.

So, his family hadn’t seen him for two years.

And it had been even longer for Lee Jung-woo.

He had deliberately distanced himself from the people around him due to feelings of inadequacy and self-blame.

Including before the regression, it had already been several years since he had seen his family.

So, he was a little shaken.

‘It would be okay to take a week off to rest and see my family-‘

As he was thinking about his schedule.

His phone vibrated.

It was a message from his agent, Mark.

[Lee, I found a hitting trainer. And it looks like you’ll be able to play in the winter league. I talked to GM [General Manager] Pratt. The Caribbean is out of the question, but Colombia or Australia is possible. Call me if you have any questions after seeing the message.]

Lee Jung-woo steeled his wavering heart at Mark’s message that he had finished preparing for the winter.

It seemed like seeing his family would have to be postponed a little longer.

“I don’t think I can go this time either. I’ll definitely make time the winter after next.”

Personal time was still a luxury for Lee Jung-woo.