Pitching Woes and a Fiery Leadoff
Not yet. I arrived at the stadium after taking a taxi.
Ugh... Busan taxis are way too rough... Why do they slam on the brakes like that at every signal...?
Getting out of the taxi, I barely suppressed the nausea rising in my throat and slowly made my way inside the stadium.
Ah... Did they figure out I'm a Turkeys player and drive like that on purpose? Nah, no way.
Kurgh... It's coming up.
But in the end, I couldn't even reach the away locker room. I dashed into the nearest bathroom, heaved my guts out, and staggered onward in a near half-dead state.
That's when sharp, heated voices pierced my ears.
Huh? What's that noise?
I turned toward the sound and spotted Captain Son Tae-ho and closer Jo Seon-jae standing face-to-face, their expressions grave as they talked. The vibe was anything but normal.
"What I'm saying is, the hitters are finally pulling their weight consistently now. If the pitchers can just hold on a little longer, we've got this. So get a grip on the atmosphere."
Son Tae-ho spoke forcefully. He was usually all smiles, looking out for the rookies, but today his face was something else entirely.
"Nothing's changing with us. This is it."
"What?"
Son Tae-ho's brow furrowed deeply.
"Right now, just plugging away adequately is our best shot."
"Adequately? What the hell is that? You messing with me?"
"Realistically speaking. Realistically. Get a grip? The pitchers are getting more individualistic; they barely listen to me anymore. But more importantly... their skills just suck."
"Still, we need to rally the mood..."
"Hyung, look at our pitching staff. Most of 'em are on salaries under 100 million won. In our cutthroat performance-based team, pitchers at that price point? You know what that means for their talent."
"But we've got rookies like Lee Tae-sin."
"He's the one pulling over 100 million—that's why he's our closer. In must-win games? They bring in Tae-sin before me."
Jo Seon-jae let out a heavy sigh.
"The pitching staff is toast. You know it."
"Still, we've gotta have the will to win."
"This is just facing cold reality. The foreign hires bombed, the team's broke so no replacements, our ace got snubbed from the national team and shipped off to the military. Our domestic starters are sitting pretty at ERAs in the fives. What more can we do?"
Son Tae-ho sighed too.
"That's why the hitters need to step up first. You have no idea how bad our record is right now?"
"I know, I know. 17 wins, 43 losses. .283 winning percentage—overwhelming last place."
"And this kind of record is bad for vets like us long-term."
"Yeah, I get that. But right now, it's tough to rally 'em. Easier to talk if the bats deliver first, y'know?"
"What?"
"Don't go chewing out the pitchers yourself. This is their department anyway. Even as captain, that might be pushing it."
"..."
"I get what you're thinking, hyung... but we've lost too damn much lately. Building up the pitching side takes time. I'm heading out."
With that, closer Jo Seon-jae walked off.
...Looks like the pitching situation is rough.
"Huh? Kim Hu-seong?"
"Ah... Sunbae."
"What're you doing? Eavesdropping?"
"Uh... just happened to..."
Then he threw me into a headlock.
"What do you think? About the pitchers?"
"Well... they're complacent. The fielders are busting their asses while..."
"Complacent?"
"Yeah. I think if we stick to fundamentals, it'll sort itself out."
"Fundamentals?"
"Yeah. Like... if the hitters keep scoring but the pitchers keep blowing it, the fans will correct it naturally."
Son Tae-ho chuckled at that.
"Ah~ so like that? Fan correction, huh?"
"Yeah. No need to say anything ourselves."
"Alright, that works. But... weren't you kinda late?"
"Ahem... better than some who don't show at all."
"Who? Oh, Hwang Do-yoon. Shows up for first-team call-ups and skips training. And now he's gotta field at first."
Kraaaack.
Why ramp up the headlock while badmouthing Hwang Do-yoon sunbae... It's not even my fault...
"Sunbae, that hurts."
The second game against the Busan Siguls was underway. My name was once again slotted in the leadoff spot.
Hoo... Score first, talk later. Do our job, then we can speak up.
I took a deep breath, sharpening my focus.
The opposing pitcher was Busan Siguls' fifth starter, Jang Yeo-san. A second-year pro, nothing special. But as a lefty with good stamina, that was a nagging issue.
Whiiip!Pop.
The first pitch was a fastball. I let it go by.
Hmm... Lefties are tough on lefty hitters, but... this feels good somehow. Manageable.
Second pitch. Spotting a hanging high one, I swung on instinct.
Crack!
A crisp sound rang out as the ball sailed deep between short and third. The shortstop dove but couldn't recover for a throw. His rushed toss flew to the first baseman's glove, but my foot beat it to the bag.
"Safe!"
The umpire's call echoed. I adjusted my helmet casually and fist-bumped the first-base coach.
First at-bat, on base.
Next up was Kim Han-seong.
The two-hole changed. Was supposed to be Hong Yu-chan sunbae... Deliberate switch? Because of me getting picked off?
I'd already taken a big lead, pressuring the pitcher. Being a lefty, he had a clear view of me and kept checking.
Huh? Sign from the bench?
The bench signal was simple: hit-and-run.
That prioritized the batter swinging over stealing. Tricky with a lefty, but workable.
The pitcher hesitated because of me and grooved one—right into Kim Han-seong's bat.
Crack!
Clean single dropping in front of right field.
I bolted without hesitation. Before rounding second, I saw the third-base coach waving me home with big arm circles. I took the turn wide and sprinted to third.
Right fielder's throw came quick, but I slid in safe amid a cloud of dust. The ump's hand shot out sideways.
"Safe!"
"Wow, Kim Hu-seong is fast. Not your average baserunning. Right-field single, and he legs it to third."
Runner on third, no outs. Up next: cleanup hitter Lee Sang-hyeon sunbae.
As he stepped in, the infield crept forward. The pitcher sighed deeply, glanced at the runner.
Whiiip!
The pitch sank low; Lee Sang-hyeon pushed it. It rolled between first and second, but the second baseman dove, snagged it, and turned a 4-6-3 double play in a flash.
But while they did, I raced home. They gave up on me—no call from the ump.
"Nice. Keep it going."
I high-fived Son Tae-ho sunbae heading to the on-deck circle.
Not a bad start. We grabbed the early lead.
The broadcast booth cam panned to the Turkeys dugout, catching Kim Hu-seong high-fiving teammates.
The caster spoke up quietly.
"Jumping out to an early lead in the first again today. This game's got some juice."
"Right? Turkeys games are fun now. They used to stack the top like a major league team—all power hitters. But lately, the approach has flipped completely."
"Oh yeah, that's true."
"Putting Kim Hu-seong at leadoff and building around speed to dictate flow. That's a fresh look for Turkeys."
The caster nodded, asking,
"Like you said, the steals and aggressive baserunning stand out. Feels familiar, actually—the top team, Eulji Crows, ran that playbook. Are Turkeys copying the leaders?"
Lee Seo-jin smiled and shook his head.
"Seems like they judged it the best with their current roster. But it's different from Eulji Crows—they're heavy on signs and strategy. Turkeys... let the players play freer."
The caster probed with interest.
"Makes sense. Turkeys are manufacturing runs easily now. Could this momentum pull them up from the basement?"
Lee Seo-jin paused, then shook his head.
"Not yet. No reliable arms in the pen. Yesterday, it was Lee Tae-sin and Jo Seon-jae who saved it. Today? Tomorrow? Can't rely on those two every time."
"Turkeys need to fix that bullpen to breathe easy. And that's exactly what Siguls should target."
"Exactly."