Phoenix Tournament 2
"Ooh... he's holding up a bit?"
The Gocheok Turkeys scout team leader glanced at the plate with a spark of interest. Go Myeong-jin, sitting beside him, nodded and chimed in.
"He's managing to hang in there against Choi Kang-hyuk. Sure, he's getting pushed back by the velocity and just fouling them off, but it's impressive that he's making contact at all."
The team leader smirked faintly, then muttered in a low voice.
"Choi Kang-hyuk is showing some sloppiness. He's a projected first-round, first-pick guy, but he's still just a high schooler. No matter what, he shouldn't be getting dragged like this by a .100 hitter. If the batter keeps fouling it off, the pitcher needs to commit more aggressively—overpower him or set him up. A fireballer like that should have dominated ages ago."
Go Myeong-jin jotted a quick note in his pad, then looked up.
"Everything he's thrown so far has been fastballs. Doesn't that mean he was going for the overpower angle?"
The team leader snorted softly.
"Yeah, he was trying to overpower. But it didn't work. So he needs to switch it up—mix in some breaking stuff. A .100 hitter isn't .100 for nothing. Right now, he's just hanging on by luck, but if Choi Kang-hyuk was a top-tier pitcher, he would've struck him out already."
He shifted his gaze away from Kim Hu-seong for a moment and continued.
"That said, whether you can call fouling it off like that 'good contact' is debatable... but he's at least seeing the ball to the end of the bat. Still, there's a reason he's hitting .100. If he can make contact like that but no hits? His eyes aren't anything special. Mix in a couple breaking balls, and you'd get the K easy. Showing that kind of flexibility is skill in itself—it's a shame."
Go Myeong-jin nodded in agreement.
"I agree. Even if the batter's got good eyes and might take it, you still gotta try. He might approach the next at-bat differently. Right now, it feels like he hasn't shown his full hand... or maybe it means he can finish it with fastballs alone."
"We'll see. That's the ninth pitch now?"
Thwack!
Another foul. Kim Hu-seong was doggedly fouling pitches off, prolonging the at-bat, but it was clear he was getting overpowered on every one.
The team leader muttered again.
"Too bad. There's some potential there... but with Suseok High's other stars putting up numbers right alongside, he doesn't stand out."
Go Myeong-jin thought the same. The Kim Hu-seong he had his eye on was hanging on like a faint ember, but the attention of the dozens of scouts in the stands was fixed on Suseok High's Choi Kang-hyuk, Lee Tae-sin, and their starting hitters. Compared to them, Kim Hu-seong's presence was barely a whisper.
And yet, that stubborn fouling stuck faintly in Go Myeong-jin's memory.
Thwack
Ugh...
That was the 11th pitch. My fingertips were numb now—no more pain. The scoreboard ticked up with each one, drawing gasps from the crowd, but it was no comfort to me at the plate.
I barely swung the bat to foul it off, but it was getting heavier, farther from solid contact.
Whiiiff—
Thud!
And finally, I whiffed on a 153 km inside heater burrowing deep.
"Strike three!"
Strikeout.
"Yes!"
Choi Kang-hyuk clenched his left fist and roared. Great, huh? Happy you got the K on the 12th pitch?
I grumbled inwardly as I trudged back to the dugout. Helmet off quick, bat stowed, glove on.
The thrill of hearing my name called as a starter from the locker room was long gone.
Teammates nodded like it was fine, but my chest was empty.
Damn... I hung in there pretty well. So close.
We'd given up a perfect through three, no runners on base, and the game was flowing disastrously against us.
Now defense. Outfield glove on, heading to my spot—but something felt off.
The cumulative shock from fouling off so many had my palm and fingers not responding right. Gripping and catching wasn't natural; a dizzying anxiety hit me.
Huh? This is bad. Please, no balls my way.
I prayed silently.
Thwack!
Suseok's hitter rolled one toward short.
"Short to first... out!"
Phew... we survived the inning.
Relief. But the real issue was elsewhere—on the mound, Lee Su-creang.
He looked steady from afar, but up close, it was obvious. His breathing was ragged, sweat soaking his uniform, glove-dusting after pitches taking longer.
Pitch count: over 60 already, end of the third. Unavoidable.
Choi Kang-hyuk? Just around 40. I'd lucked into 12, but he'd thrown 12 and looked in control.
Tsk... Su-creang won't last long.
I muttered bitterly inside. His stuff was wavering. No walks yet, but velocity dropping from the start.
By the time the top of the order came back around, crisis.
Suseok's heart of the lineup was brutal. Rumors said their legend Choi Seung-taek occasionally coached them. They'd adapted well, shining in last weekend league matchup—that's where we scored against.
Probably next inning, or the one after... could we score in the meantime?
By the top of the fifth, the ominous signs became reality. Lee Su-creang's pitches started leaking middle-in, getting hit.
"Oh! Contact!"
Suseok's leadoff cleanup hitter yanked one hard, rolling to left. Next, the five-hole guy battled and poked a single through the infield.
No outs, runners on first and second. Six-hole pushed an outside pitch through left-center, scoring one.
"Suseok High takes the lead at last!"
Lee Su-creang gritted his teeth, fatigue etched on his face.
"Hit again! Falls in front of center!"
The seven-hole added a clean single to center, more runs.
Two runs in a blink. Botong High's dugout fell silent and heavy.
Lee Su-creang refocused for a K and grounder, no more damage, but momentum had fully shifted.
Bottom of the sixth. Score: 2-0. Just two runs.
Two runs... we can do this. Like last time...
But two quick outs, and the inning felt doomed to fizzle again.
"Botong High's hitter, Kim Hu-seong—who battled to 12 pitches last time."
My turn. No big hopes honestly. Choi Kang-hyuk's heat was still razor-sharp, power overwhelming as before.
But we couldn't lose like this.
Whiff—tick!
Damn. Knew it.
"Foul!"
First pitch fastball. Pushed back completely.
"Kim Hu-seong fouls it off again."
Huh? Then I saw Choi Kang-hyuk. Uncomfortable. Dissatisfied.
Timing's on point, though. Pulled 12 last at-bat. That's what's bugging him?
A sliver of hope flickered.
He shook his head. Nodded.
Whiff—tick!
"Foul again! He's still on the timing."
Zing—numbness returned to my hands.
No... I got this.
Felt overpowered. But as my face hardened, so did his—darker.
Shake. Shake.
"Hoo..."
Nod.
Shieeeek!
Eh...? Different.
Third pitch flew in. Knew instantly—something else. But 2 strikes, no choice.
If it looked strike-ish, swing and follow.
Crack!
"Contact! Pops up. No—in play?!"
I'd somehow hit the dropping ball. Problem: infield pop.
Run!
I bolted to first.
"Let's see... Kim Hu-seong thinly topped it."
"They're converging... but! Can't get it!"
The ball trickled to the awkward spot between short, third, and pitcher. Fielders rushed, but it grazed fingertips and plopped on the grass.
"Hit!"
Cheers erupted.
What?
Pat-pat-pat!
Stepping on first, I glanced left. Suseok infielders shaking heads, grimacing.
Sneaky infield single. Lucky bounce, but it erased the perfect through six.