The Pitcher Just Hits Home Runs Well [EN]: Chapter 83

83. Passing Grade (4)

Kyung-seok, nicknamed Pumba, had been the starting center fielder until last year, but he yielded the position to Lee Se-jin, a sophomore. Some might say he was pushed out. Just as shortstop is considered a more demanding position than second or third base, center field is more challenging than the corner outfield spots.

But he didn’t begrudge Se-jin the position.

“This is all the ‘Ahn Byung-young effect,’ you know.”

Jo Yu-jin looked at me, her expression practically begging me to ask what that meant. So, I didn’t bother. It’s like the dead Zhuge Liang [a famous strategist from the Three Kingdoms period in Chinese history] scares away the living Sima Yi [Zhuge Liang’s rival]; the graduated Byung-young senior is more intimidating than the Byung-young senior still attending school. Actually, now that I think about it, the saying ‘The only good Indian is a dead Indian’ might be more apt than that old saying.

Anyway, Pumba humbly acknowledged that his glove was a ‘stone’ [meaning he wasn’t very good] in center field, and as he transitioned to a corner position, he focused on bulking up. He gained weight easily, something others envied. Perhaps because of that, the guy, who already resembled a wild boar, looked even more imposing with his increased size.

But what became truly impressive was his hitting.

– Thwack!!!

Kyung-seok, batting after me, crushed the ball.

A hard-hit ball sailed towards right-center field.

The runners on base took off. The second baseman, right fielder, and center fielder all sprinted.

And I ran ‘very’ quickly.

The second baseman, positioned slightly behind, was closest to the hit. This was his chance. A chance to redeem himself for his previous defensive error. He envisioned a play rarely seen outside of the major leagues. His body moved in accordance with that image. One, two, three. He backpedaled rapidly and leaped high.

The only problem was that the play Kyung-ho imagined required the athletic ability of a Gold Glove-caliber major leaguer. And the unfortunate thing was that he almost had the necessary athleticism. His glove stretched out. The baseball, flying overhead, grazed the edge of his glove. The deflected ball, which would have flown straight if his athleticism had been completely lacking, veered off course. It was as if it were deliberately avoiding the center fielder and right fielder converging on the ball.

Coach Yang Se-joon, at third base, waved his arm emphatically.

The runner on third was already heading home. The runner on second sped past third, also aiming for home.

At that moment, I was oblivious to the chaos unfolding behind me. Only Coach Yang Se-joon’s wildly gesturing arm caught my attention.

Honestly, when I briefly saw it while running from first to second, I thought, ‘Are we really trying to score here? Isn’t this a bit much?’ But with the ingrained reflexes of a seasoned player, I followed the coach’s signal and charged towards home.

With the vibrant body of an 18-year-old and the base-running instincts honed by 17 years of professional experience, my sprint from second to home was undoubtedly faster than it had been during my prime in the major leagues.

Kyung-ho and the center fielder, struggling to regain control of the ball, were frantic.

The situation on the field was a complete mess. The shortstop was positioned between them and home plate. A direct throw would be too late. He quickly relayed the ball to the shortstop.

– Bang!!

A smooth relay play, just like they practiced.

The catcher extended his mitt.

Since I couldn’t see what was happening behind me, I couldn’t know the specifics. But even from the catcher’s movements and the expression visible beneath his mask, I could tell they were under pressure.

Sliding.

Headfirst or bent-leg?

Headfirst is slightly faster, of course. But in the decade or so before my regression, I had rarely slid headfirst. I was too valuable, and after my right shoulder injury, I developed a strange reluctance to lead with it.

The bent-leg slide unfolded instinctively.

The dirt around home plate erupted.

The catcher lunged forward, mitt outstretched. And there, in slow motion, I saw the ball arriving.

– Bang!!

But not yet. It was a tag play, not a force out. The catcher’s mitt hadn’t touched me yet. He swung the mitt. My foot grazed home plate.

A moment of silence.

The umpire’s arms spread wide.

“Safe!!!”

The familiar roar of the crowd filled my ears.

Pumba, on first base, gave me a thumbs up.

Ah, wait a minute.

First base?

“Good job.”

Jo Yu-jin approached and brushed the dirt off my rear.

“Jo Yu, why is Pumba still on first base?”

“Coach Seo Min-woo thought it was too close to call.”

“The runner on first comes all the way home, and going to second base was ambiguous?”

Perhaps the defensive breakdown was the reason I made it home. But it was clear that Pumba stopping at first while I ran home was a tactical blunder.

Of course, I scored, so it wasn’t a complete disaster. If the shortstop had opted to tag out Kyung-seok safely at second instead of challenging me at home, Kyung-seok might have been out. Even so, in that situation, advancing to second would have given me more time. If they chose to contest the play at home immediately, there would have been a chance for him to score.

“Anyway, it’s good you made it. Good job.”

“Yeah, a bases-clearing three-RBI single is pretty great.”

A three-RBI single.

This was an achievement that even I, who was 0.2 seconds slower than average at 4.81 seconds to first base just before my regression, had never accomplished in the majors.

Pumba, on first base, beamed at me, seemingly overjoyed. His expression was comical, so I simply smiled back.

Bottom of the 4th inning. No outs, 0:8

The Kyung-ho pitcher’s eyes swirled like those of a rotting pollock [a type of fish, implying a dead, glazed-over look].

Was his name Choi Hyun-woo? He wasn’t a bad pitcher, not at all. But it was a brutally difficult situation for an eighteen-year-old.

Kyung-ho’s ace was pulled from the mound after just 4 innings.

The next pitcher threw about 15 warm-up pitches.

“Will it be over soon?”

Our batters then scored one more run before the third out. Honestly, I think we could have scored more, but the lead runner, Pumba, was too slow. He wasn’t fast as a center fielder, but his recent bulking up had made him even slower. He was reaching the point where he should be considered for first base instead of a corner outfield position.

0:9

And top of the 5th inning. Park Yu-joon, a freshman taking the mound, looked remarkably relaxed. Was it because he had a 9-run lead? That certainly contributed, but Yu-joon was also unusually optimistic. As I recall, he didn’t go pro after graduating, but his pitching was better than I remembered.

– Bang!!

“Strike!!”

A 134km/h fastball [approximately 83 mph] zipped through the center of the strike zone.

It seemed like a poorly placed pitch. But his expression didn’t waver. The next pitch followed.

– Whoosh!!

“Strike!!”

A 111km/h circle changeup [approximately 69 mph].

It’s a pitch that few high school pitchers in Korea use. In fact, not many professional pitchers use it effectively. The Phoenix pitchers are among the few who use it somewhat regularly, and Park Yu-joon’s middle school coach was affiliated with them, so he learned it relatively well.

But it was a little disappointing.

– Tak!!

A hit that split the gap between second and third base.

The batter casually reached first base.

“Safe!!”

If it were me, I would have shown a few more different pitches and saved that one as a finisher. A 111km/h circle changeup is almost a trick pitch when you’re expecting a 134km/h fastball, but if you anticipate it, it’s an easy pitch to hit. Unlike his relaxed demeanor, Yu-joon tended to rush his pitches.

But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It just wasn’t ideal in that situation. That’s all. In fact, a pitcher who believes in his stuff and throws boldly often achieves better results than a pitcher who tries to avoid contact, especially if he has good velocity.

Just like this.

– Tak!!

Ground ball to the infield.

Timon easily fielded the ball at second base. And then threw it to me at first.

6-4-3 double play.

Yu-joon pitched 2.1 innings, allowing 3 runs.

And in the meantime, we scored one more run.

Jae-cheol, who took over the mound in the top of the 7th, gave up 4 runs in 1.1 innings. He pitched a solid first inning, but allowed consecutive hits in the second. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong. It’s just that today’s Jae-cheol was the typical Jae-cheol, and the typical Jae-cheol didn’t have the stuff to shut down Kyung-ho’s upper batting order.

But that didn’t mean I was going back to the mound.

While giving up 4 runs, we also added 1, leaving the score at 11:7, a comfortable lead.

Following Jae-cheol, Han-gyeol came to the mound. He entered the game with one out and a runner on second and finished the inning calmly, without allowing any runs. There were rumors among the players that he was cunning or arrogant, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing for a pitcher to have that kind of personality. Well, only if his skills back it up.

In that way, Kyung-ho fiercely pursued us until the very end.

In particular, when they scored 2 runs in the 9th inning, my heart skipped a beat. But that was it. In the end, Kyung-ho failed to overcome the 11-run deficit in 6.1 innings.

Since my regression last year, we had faced Kyung-ho three times, including today. And we had won all three. But today’s victory felt different. In the previous two games, Choi Soo-won, not Joongang High School, had defeated Kyung-ho.

But today, it could be said that Joongang High School, led by Choi Soo-won, had defeated Kyung-ho, not just Choi Soo-won.

Top of the 9th inning.

Han-gyeol, after catching the final batter with an outfield fly, 멋지게 [meotjige – coolly, stylishly] roared on the mound. It was quite a 멋진 모습 [meotjin moseup – cool appearance] considering he had just given up a two-RBI hit.

***

It’s a well-known fact that athletes are superstitious. And baseball players are particularly notorious for their jinxes.

And in that vein, a jinx had recently emerged at Joongang High School.

If they face Kyung-ho in the national tournament, they are guaranteed to win, but they are also guaranteed to lose their next game.

Of course, this is reminiscent of a Slam Dunk ending [a reference to a popular basketball manga/anime where the protagonist’s team often struggles after big wins], where Joongang High School, having poured all their energy into the battle with Kyung-ho, suffers a crushing defeat in the following game. The fact that it had happened twice suggested it could happen a third time.

Yes, at least that’s what Cheongam IT Internet High School, Joongang High School’s opponent today, believed.

– Bang!!

“Strike!! Out!!!”

A clean three-up, three-down inning in the top of the 1st.

And 1 hit and no score in the 2nd inning.

Another three-up, three-down inning in the 3rd inning.

“······.”

“······.”

This was a problem.

To boost the sagging morale in the dugout, the captain of Cheongam IT Internet High School spoke up loudly.

“Hey, everyone, cheer up!! He’s just a high school student like us. You saw Jae-hyun get a hit earlier. We can do it too, right?”

Jae-hyun, who had gotten a hit in the 2nd inning, nodded weakly. Was it really a legitimate hit? His face suggested he didn’t believe that the weak hit, barely making contact with a bad pitch and trickling through the infield, was due to his skill.

Thus, top of the 4th inning.

Choi Soo-won, after striking out the first batter in five pitches, headed to first base.

3.1 innings, 1 hit, 5 strikeouts, no runs.

“Hey!! That’s it, that’s it. Only Choi Soo-won is abnormally good at pitching, but the other pitchers are useless. You guys know it too. They’re the second and third pitchers on the team, who were middle schoolers until recently. The Kyung-ho kids scored 9 points in 6.1 innings the day before yesterday. Isn’t that right? We can do it too.”

The eyes of the Cheongam High School students turned to Choi Soo-won, who had gone to first base.

A tall figure, but an overwhelming aura beyond his height intimidated them.

An ace who could return to the mound at any moment.

The students of Cheongam High School couldn’t sincerely agree with their captain’s words.