The Devil of the First Inning Returns
Don't wanna lose here either... It's hot as hell. For the three-game away series against the Gwangju Pigeons, the Turkeys headed to Gwangju. In the locker room before the game, I was skimming through info on the opposing players when familiar footsteps approached from the side.
"Hey, Kim Hu-seong."
It was senior Son Tae-ho. With his bat slung over his shoulder, he gave me a once-over and smirked.
"Your eyes look sharper since you got back. Suits you, playing for real."
"Haha... You think so?"
"Yeah. Good thing. I was a bit worried, but if you keep this up, it's not bad at all."
Hmm? I tilted my head, not quite getting it.
"What do you mean?"
Son Tae-ho nodded, hands in his pockets.
"This is Gwangju. The Pigeons fans' energy is no joke. Remember the last away game? Their massive cheers are overwhelming. It's even worse here. Just don't let the opposing fans psych you out. Of course, you handled it well last time, but you never know... Looking at your face now, though... Nah, you won't fold. Let's do great today too."
Time to go. We slowly made our way into the stadium. The stands were already packed with mostly Pigeons fans. Not just the home side on third base—the away seats on first were filled with Gwangju Pigeons supporters too. Pretty much... all Pigeons fans.
Well, Turkeys fans are always few and far between, but... yeah, feels like we're deep in enemy territory.
But it's fine. We've done well against teams like the Busan Siguls...
Then the pitcher intro blared, and the crowd erupted like an explosion.
"Yang Do-young! Yang Do-young!"
The opponents' cheers shook the stadium. As the leadoff hitter, my grip tightened on the bat instinctively.
Ah... yeah, it could definitely sap your spirit...
I glanced toward the third-base cheering section. That's the spot... damn, they're loud.
That's when I spotted her—Kim Se-rin, the cheerleader.
...Up on the high platform, dressed in the Pigeons' red cheer uniform, she was brightly prepping her performance. And then the next sight hit me square in the eyes.
The cheerleaders, Kim Se-rin included, stretched their arms toward the opposing pitcher Yang Do-young, syncing their cheers to the rhythm. Everyone beaming, their energy lighting up the entire stands.
Of course. Kim Se-rin was a Pigeons cheerleader, and they had to root for the home team.
Grind... But seeing it head-on twisted something deep inside, just a tiny bit.
My heart felt off for some reason, and my steps toward the plate faltered for a second.
Hoo... no. Snap out of it. I'm a pro. They're pros too. Don't sweat the small stuff...
I tried to calm myself, but an inexplicable frustration was already swelling in one corner of my mind.
Grind grind grind... And in that instant, the emotion shifted into something else.
My fist clenched tight, eyes narrowing as I drew a long breath. I turned my gaze straight ahead and stepped into the batter's box.
Staring down the opposing pitcher with eyes that screamed I'd burn it all down.
Ah... screw it. Just kill 'em all.
* * *
"Oh... Kim Hu-seong looks fired up today," commentator Lee Seo-jin noted.
The caster asked, "His expression?"
"Yeah. Even vets feel the pressure on away games against teams like the Gwangju Pigeons... But rookie Kim Hu-seong looks more aggressive, like his fighting spirit's ignited. Sharp eyes, serious face. Must be why he owns the Pigeons—fascinating."
Right then, Kim Hu-seong fouled one off.
"Swinging aggressively from the first pitch—Kim Hu-seong!"
Lee Seo-jin reacted with interest to the play.
"Ho... he's changed. Seems like Kim Hu-seong's tweaked his approach. He used to watch the first two pitches, but lately he's attacking early."
Tick!
"Foul again! This time he fights off the breaking ball. Two strikes."
"Ah~ Now Yang Do-young's in a tough spot."
"Huh? Why? Two strikes looks good for him."
"Normally, yeah, but Kim Hu-seong has an extremely low walk rate. He swings at anything close."
Lee Seo-jin nodded intriguingly.
"That's why the style shift makes sense. Before, he'd take pitches until two strikes, hope to get one to hit, then sprint to first. Now he's the type to grind the pitcher down. Goal's to adapt to their stuff quick."
"So..."
"Yeah. Fouled the fastball first pitch, breaking ball second. Cut down two new pitches clean... No third pitch with polish? Hell begins."
* * *
Don't wanna lose. Gonna win somehow.
I glared at the opposing pitcher Yang Do-young, thinking that.
No personal grudge... wait, this is totally personal, isn't it?
Every time that thought looped, my jaw clenched harder.
Already the fifth pitch. Third and fourth were sliders, but I cut them off easy.
What's next? Data says he throws changeups too... but not his out pitch?
Yang Do-young's face stiffened a bit. Visible from here.
Whiiip— Fastball!
Tick! —Foul!
Timing a hair late, but I made contact—Kim Hu-seong!
He's reacting perfectly to fastballs and sliders.
Yang Do-young's eyes wavered. The long at-bat was getting to him.
What now?
And... sixth pitch battle came.
Shiiiip—different!
Yang Do-young finally unleashed his third breaking ball. Definitely the out pitch this time. Changeup. Comes in like a fastball, then drops slow at the bottom of the strike zone.
The trajectory hit my eyes, and my body reacted first. Angle was awkward for solid contact. But no swing meant strikeout.
So I just got the bat out there at the end.
Thud. Thin contact, and it plopped straight down.
The ball hit the dirt—not the foul line—and rolled slow, barely any speed, bouncing lazily toward the third-base line.
Instinct hit: This ain't foul.
I bolted straight for first.
Full sprint, eyes only on the bag. Steps steady, thank god.
'Oh crap!'
Third baseman Kang Do-yoon hesitated a beat, half-tempo late chasing the ball. The long foul battle sapped his focus.
That tiny delay decided it—he knew it the second he grabbed it.
Kang Do-yoon scooped low, twisted, and fired to first.
"Safe!"
—Ah~!
Kim Hu-seong safe at first! Third baseman Kang Do-yoon hangs his head.
—So close. Reaction a tad slow—no way he tags Kim Hu-seong like that! As a second-year kid, his defense lacks polish.
—Commentator Lee Seo-jin, between giving up a hit on the sixth pitch or grinding 15 and getting the out—which is better against Kim Hu-seong?
—Ah... Might seem even, but always grind 15 and get him. Why? 'Cause Kim Hu-seong's a nightmare on base too.
* * *
Yes!
On first. Halfway to winning already.
I shot a sharp glare at the opposing pitcher. Yang Do-young. Righty sidearm. Sidearm but near underhand release—easy to steal on. Catches: Their catcher Choi Woo-sung's a savvy defensive vet, and second baseman's a total pro.
But... watch this. Timing!
Pabababak!
Yang Do-young's first pitch to the next hitter, and I was off to second.
—Kim Hu-seong running! Catcher throws to second!
Pop!
"Safe!"
Hoo... Close...
I wiped sweat, lifting my head. By a hair... Stole the jump, and they still nail it?
I shook my head, glaring at Pigeons' second baseman Moon Tae-kyung and catcher Choi Woo-sung. They looked gutted.
Anyway... safe at second, I sneaked a peek at the third-base cheers.
Cheerleaders in view. Most with hands clasped like praying.
... Grind.
Then I locked eyes on Yang Do-young, who seemed tense.
... Mess up. Please. Feeling the pressure?
Yang Do-young glanced my way nervously, then faced front to grip the ball. Four-seam grip...
I widened my lead slow. Not too far—just out of his sightline.
Glove move? Nada. Straight heat likely.
Spread my legs a bit, crouched like ready to bolt, brushed my thighs with both hands.
Whiiip—thud!
—Gu Min-seok hits! Drops in front of left field!
Tatata...
—Runner holds at third... Kim Hu-seong bolts for home!
Third-base coach signaled hold. I nodded like complying, then rounded wide instead.
"Huh?"
And charged home.
Pigeons' left fielder Park Se-ho, relaying to short, realized too late.
—Kim Hu-seong to home! Shortstop fires home!
Good—veer left a bit...
Swoooosh— Pigeons catcher Choi Woo-sung snagged it, dove for the tag.
But!
—Kim Hu-seong slips the tag and slides home safe!
"Nice!"
Waiting third batter Kim Han-seong rushed over for a high-five.
Got it! Yes!
I headed straight for the sparse Turkeys fans.
Raised my right index finger to the sky in front of them.
—Turkeys take the early lead in the first! The Devil of the First Inning is back!