The Balk Bluff Turns Real
I caught my breath atop third base, my soul riding on this massive bluff, while scrutinizing Mun Bo-young intently. He's shaken... completely rattled. Seeing that sent a strange thrill surging through me. The guy who'd stiffly refused to apologize after beaning me earlier was now a total mess. Just that fact alone cooled the boiling rage inside me a bit.
But I had no intention of letting it end there. So I deliberately widened my lead, as if to say look at this. I stepped one foot further off the third base line and slowly swayed my body. Grinning wickedly, I locked eyes with Mun Bo-young. I'm even thinking about stealing home here. What're you gonna do about it?
And then it happened. Whoosh! After glancing my way a few times while setting his stance, Mun Bo-young threw a pickoff attempt toward me.
Uh-oh? I froze for a split second. I hadn't reacted at all. The ball sailed slowly toward me, the third baseman's glove hanging wide open like a basket, waiting.
And... pop. The sound of the ball settling into the glove rang out. As soon as it smacked perfectly into the third baseman's mitt, I turned to stone right there.
The distance between third base and me was way too far now—no slide, no jump, nothing would get me back in time. Ah... this is... fucked. That was the only thought in my head.
Me, out at third? Then what the hell do I do? In that instant, dozens of thoughts flooded my mind. Run back to third? Too late. The glove was twice as close to my legs as the base. Dash for home? But the pitcher's already thrown, and when the ball comes back around, I'm dead.
What do I do? What should I choose to survive? Maybe the best is to go for home and hope Min-seok hyung holds at second or advances to third? My brain spun at lightning speed in that split second, then suddenly—boom—it felt like my head exploded.
And I didn't choose to scramble back to third or bolt for home. Instead, I just pointed straight at the pitcher with my hand. My finger zeroed in on Mun Bo-young like a gun.
I had no idea why I did it. And then, without thinking, my mouth moved on its own.
"Balk!" I shouted. Pure instinct, no thought behind it.
But the funniest part was my face after. I looked like someone utterly convinced a balk had been called—like I was thrilled to death about it—staring at the home plate ump and third base ump before casually jogging toward home.
The third baseman just stood there holding the ball, dazed, watching me trot in.
"Balk...? Was that a balk just now? It kinda looked like a balk?" The third base ump tilted his head in confusion, and that froze the third baseman solid.
"B... balk?" As I crossed the plate, I heard the home plate ump mutter in bewilderment. But I ignored the doubt and strode briskly home, scoring the run.
The Larus players belatedly protested, but the timing had passed. Panting, I trudged into the dugout and collapsed in the corner of the bench, clutching my head. Ah... fuck... I'm screwed... How do I explain this...? Is this even gonna fly? What a bullshit play. I had no clue what the fallout would be, and that gnawed at me.
Then Manager Kim Young-ho approached from behind.
"Kim Hu-seong."
"Yes..."
"That... was a balk, right?"
Sigh... What now? Lie and say yes? No, no lies—this is serious. I turned my head ever so slowly.
"...No. Not sure, honestly?"
Manager Kim Young-ho's face went rigid. I spilled the truth.
"I just... couldn't react to the pitcher's move? So I yelled 'balk' and ran."
"What?!"
I felt a twinge of fear but spoke calmly anyway. "Well... if it's a balk, I score. If not... maybe Larus botched the defense? I did cross the plate, fact is."
Manager Kim Young-ho stared into space, speechless. Then Hwang Do-yoon sunbae burst out laughing from the back of the bench, clutching his stomach.
"Puhahaha! Dude, you're a total psycho! How do you pull that off?! Insane!"
"I feel pretty insane myself... but it'll work out, right?"
Hwang Do-yoon kept laughing, slapping my shoulder. "Hu-seong, you're a legend. Surviving like that? First time I've seen shit like this in my career. Manager, if we play this right, we live, yeah?"
Manager Kim Young-ho eyed Hwang Do-yoon for a moment, then let out an exasperated chuckle. He shook his head and stood.
"Haa... fine."
Muttering that, he strode toward the umps. Gesturing emphatically, Manager Kim Young-ho declared,
"That was a balk."
The home plate ump's eyes widened. Manager Kim Young-ho unleashed even wilder logic. "If it wasn't, our runner would've gone back to third, right? But he didn't. Why? Because it was a balk. If it wasn't, he'd have reacted and slid back safely."
That sent the Changwon Larus manager charging out of their dugout, face flushed. "What the hell? How's that a balk?! And if it wasn't, he'd be dead!"
Spreading his arms before the ump, the Larus manager barked, "If you think it's a balk, request video review!"
Manager Kim Young-ho paused, then—with a subtle shift recalling my words—replied, "...Video review? Nah. Why would we?"
The Larus manager shot back, "What?!"
Manager Kim Young-ho shook his head firmly. "Video review's on you guys, no? We got nothing to review. It's one or the other: Larus gave up the run on a balk, or on a defensive miscue. Umpires haven't ruled yet. No call, no protest from us. Either way, we scored."
The home plate ump looked flustered; the Larus manager's face turned redder. "Playing dirty like this?"
Manager Kim Young-ho sneered. "Dirty? Who's the one fumbling basic plays?"
"What?!"
He pressed harder. "Pro players this sloppy? Aren't you a pro team? That inning was full of lazy plays. This one's no different." Pointing at third, he added, "You should've tagged Hu-seong first. Ump didn't call balk, but you assumed and stopped playing. Whose fault?"
The Changwon Larus manager was speechless. Manager Kim Young-ho nailed the coffin shut. "Your mistake. Not ours."
The Larus manager's face was beet red, unleashing a torrent of protests at the ump, who called for a hold.
The Turkeys players watched silently from the dugout, exchanging glances. I played it cool from the bench corner, but inside, I just prayed it'd go our way.
The home plate ump stood awkwardly between the managers. The Larus manager couldn't hold back, yelling, "So what now? Just let it slide?"
The ump responded promptly. "There's a review process. If you want, you can request video review. But no guarantee it'll go your way."
The Changwon Larus manager heaved ragged breaths. "Fine! Video review. If no balk, send Kim Hu-seong back to third!"
The ump headed for review. "Video review requested. Item: balk or not."
The stadium buzzed again. The scoreboard looped replays nonstop.
Caster: "Commentator, that play... balk?"
Lee Seo-jin: "Well... balk calls are tricky, with complex criteria..."
Suddenly, his tone shifted. "Wait. This... double motion balk? Stance changed. Yes, that's a balk."
Caster: "Really?"
Lee Seo-jin: "Yes. Balk. Pitcher hesitated before pickoff—two motions. Double set. Hold on... looks like similar earlier too."
He checked when I was at second. "Same motion then. Close to balk. Risky habit for second/third pickoffs."
The review booth replayed footage; umps nodded on screen. They removed earpieces, decision made. Everyone held their breath.
Review result: Double motion—pitcher balk declared.
Third base runner scores. First base runner to second.
Curses erupted from the Larus dugout. Hearing that, I exhaled a long, relieved sigh from the bench. Haa... I lived.