The Rolling Stone vs. the Settled Stones (2)
Catcher Pi Anta's pitch sequences were nearly impossible to read.
One moment she rattled the leadoff hitter with trash talk and retired him; the next, facing the number-two batter, she stubbornly worked the outside edge until she finally surrendered first base. Then she went inside on the number-three hitter and gave up a short single. And the cleanup hitter? She walked him intentionally, loading the bases.
Bases loaded, one out — and it was still the first inning.
The next batter was number five: Kang Dongsik.
The rattled pitcher called Pi Anta out to the mound. She headed over, covering her mouth with her catcher's mitt as she asked casually:
"What's up?"
"What's up? Are you kidding me right now? What the hell were you thinking, loading the bases in the first inning?!"
"It is a bit of a jam, yeah."
"Hey, are you half-assing this because it's just a scrimmage? Or wait — is Dongsik hyung saying weird stuff and you're going easy on him?"
Was she conscious of Kang Dongsik?
It would be a lie to say she wasn't. He'd openly challenged her to prove her competitiveness as a catcher in a real duel — how could she not be aware of him? But "being aware of him" and "going easy on him" were completely different things.
"Sir. Explaining everything right now would take too long — can I tell you later?"
"Tell me what later?"
"Why I set up this situation."
"Set up…?"
Not "this is how it turned out" — set up meant she'd deliberately engineered the bases-loaded situation. Before he could even process that loaded statement, Pi Anta asked again:
"For now, just trust me this once."
"…After going this far, what am I supposed to do if I don't trust you? I'd have to believe you even if I dropped dead."
What good was boldly promising to clean up after you'd already made a mess? You shouldn't have made the mess in the first place. But Pi Anta was still overflowing with composure.
"I'll make sure you have nothing to worry about, so just help me out this once."
Faced with Pi Anta's sly smile as she made her request, the pitcher finally let out a heavy sigh and nodded.
Having managed some form of communication, Pi Anta was already starting to feel good as she headed back.
Where should I start? Should I open with, "So when I got the leadoff hitter out…"?
Just thinking about explaining her entire design for this situation throughout the next offensive half-inning in the dugout, she couldn't hold back a pleased smile. But first, if she wanted to run her mouth freely, she had to get through this jam cleanly.
"You two finish your little strategy meeting?"
As she came back to home plate and settled into her crouch, Kang Dongsik called out to her.
"Oh, absolutely. We just wrapped up a spectacular strategy session. You should be nervous."
"Now I'm real curious. What kind of plan you cooking up over there?"
Kang Dongsik, true to form as a catcher himself, started laying on the psychological warfare, trying to clutter up Pi Anta's head. In truth, batters skilled at this kind of mind game would often turn a catcher's chatter right back around, shutting down the catcher's competitive edge with superior talk. Kang Dongsik was a catcher and a veteran with over fifteen years of pro experience under his belt. He had his own expertise when it came to psychological warfare.
…Or so he'd thought.
"But do you know that saying? The baseball adage that it's hard to score with the bases loaded and one out. Even without a big home run or a bases-clearing extra-base hit, you can still score on a walk or a sac fly — so why do people say it's hard to score with bases loaded and one out? And wouldn't you know it, that's exactly the situation we're in right now."
Pi Anta was far more talkative than Kang Dongsik had anticipated.
"Of course I know it. Thinking of just scratching across one run isn't hard — but expecting only a single run with the bases loaded doesn't make sense. Even when you do score, it leaves you feeling unsatisfied, like something's missing. And it's not like grand slams never happen, so especially early in a game like this, you tend to go more aggressive."
But Kang Dongsik was no pushover either!
The pitcher lifted his leg and wound up hard. Kang Dongsik watched the incoming pitch calmly.
PAANG!!
"Ball!"
"Low fastball outside. Missed just a bit. Was that intentional? If so, you're completely writing off fly balls and fishing for an infield grounder. Fair enough — go big and mishandle an outside pitch, and it's a double play that ends the inning. But now that I've read your play, what are you gonna do? Your head must be spinning."
Deliberately voicing an opponent's intended approach created tremendous psychological pressure. You had to decide whether to stick with a strategy that had already been read, or revise it so you wouldn't get picked apart. If you pushed ahead as planned, the damage when your prepared approach got exploited would be enormous. But there was absolutely no guarantee that improvising a new strategy on the spot would work either.
So should she push through? Or change course?
Pi Anta's choice was—
"That's right. That's why the infielders are playing in, too."
She just openly admitted it and moved on. Except—
"There's a reason I didn't bother changing it. I don't know every player's data, but the runner on third is the number-two hitter. Number-two hitters are typically fast, so even if I induce a fly ball, there's a high chance of giving up a run on a tag-up."
She was rattling off the reasoning behind her choice without anyone even asking.
"Since I'm the five-hole hitter, my power's decent enough — but like most catchers, I'm probably slow on the bases. So you'd rather gamble on a ground ball that might not give up a run than a fly ball that probably will."
And the one hearing it was matching her beat for beat with his own response. And the real spectacle?
"Exactly right."
"Not bad, huh?"
Before anyone knew it, they'd reached the point of complimenting each other!
PAANG!!
"Strike!"
This time it was a strike that came in tight on the hands. The command wasn't particularly sharp, but with Kang Dongsik keyed on the outside, he couldn't react to the inside pitch.
"Careful now. The textbook sequence for inducing a double play includes a fastball in on the hands, too."
"I've got that much accounted for, obviously."
"So what's coming next?"
"I think I've got it."
"Let's hear it, then."
"I'm not giving you the answer you want."
"Is that so…"
"That it is."
Even as Pi Anta put down signs, the two of them kept up their psychological duel. She was exchanging far more strategic bluffing with the batter than actual input with the pitcher. Eventually, the pitcher called time and let out a complaint.
"Sorry, but could both of you please shut up a little?"
They could call it psychological warfare all they wanted — from the pitcher's perspective, it was a talk-hell that hit friend and foe alike. Caught in this sudden talk battle, the pitcher's concentration was unraveling in real time.
"Sorry, sir. But I absolutely cannot back down from this psychological war."
"Some wet-behind-the-ears rookie is running her mouth like she owns the place — how is a veteran supposed to just sit there and take it? Gotta teach her a thing or two about real psychological warfare."
Pi Anta's talkativeness was already legendary. But Kang Dongsik, for all his massive frame, was an equally enormous chatterbox. For the pitcher, though — forced to sit there and absorb every word of both of their chatter without any way to mute them — it was enough to drive a man insane, like having the ping-mute function in League of Legends completely fail on him.
"You should be working the mind games on me, not the pitcher. Isn't this just shooting yourselves in the foot?"
Pi Anta thought for a moment. No matter how well she designed the strategy, it was still the pitcher who had to throw the ball. If the pitcher couldn't get on board with the strategy, even the best plan was useless. So she had to accommodate the pitcher. Swallowing her regret, Pi Anta bit her lip.
"Haaah… Just this once."
With her chatter sealed away, Pi Anta suppressed her frustration and went back to setting up for an infield double play.
One strike, one ball.
The first pitch had been a fastball low and away. The second had aimed inside but was effectively a fastball down the middle. And now, the third pitch in this count.
If the batter just stood there waiting, it'd be two strikes — so from his perspective, he was likely to come out aggressive. But if they wasted a pitch, it'd be one-and-two, and the next pitch would have to come into the zone, putting the battery even more in a corner.
Batter or battery — someone had to force a decision on this pitch.
Would he swing? Or lay off? Would they challenge him? Or try to fool him?
Pi Anta made up her mind.
He was definitely going to swing. And he was going to cut it short. He'd shrink the zone as tight as possible and focus on just nicking it enough to get it over the infield.
Then it was a breaking ball.
Show a breaking ball for the first time to a hitter looking fastball, sneak a strike past him — and even if he did make contact, get the bat out on fastball timing and induce a weak out. If he took it, fine. If the bat came out, even better. As long as she didn't go in too casually.
Just a bit outside. Running away from the middle of the plate.
Slider…!
The moment the pitcher lifted his foot, Pi Anta shifted her crouch to the outside. The pitcher fired with everything he had, and the ball bit well — the break was solid.
Kang Dongsik lifted his leg.
Seeing that, Pi Anta thought she had him. Double play. Bases loaded, one out — escape on a double play! She locked in, picturing it—
Then Kang Dongsik's bat seemed to come out—
"Huh…?"
For a moment, Pi Anta had no idea what had just happened. Only after hearing a sharp tick, watching the ball dribble off toward the side of the mound, and seeing the pitcher barely field it, point home, shout something, and toss the ball — only then did she realize. The fast runner who'd broken from third was almost at home plate.
A squeeze play in the bottom of the first?! What the hell…!
There was no time to be dumbfounded. She had to catch the ball and tag the runner. Fortunately, the toss came in clean and secure — the moment she caught it, she threw her body at the sliding runner to make the tag.
"Kh…!!"
But the sound of the runner's hand sweeping across home plate through the dirt was faster than Pi Anta's glove.
"Safe!"
Since the call was made by AI anyway, wasting time arguing was stupid — so before the call even came, she spun and fired to first.
The batter-runner is slow…!
The two factors Pi Anta had been working with: the runner on third — the number-two hitter — was fast, but the batter-runner Kang Dongsik was a catcher and therefore slow. Every play she'd designed so far had been built on that data. So even if giving up the run was unavoidable after getting blindsided, she at least had to get the batter-runner at first.
But—
"UOOOOOH!!"
Kang Dongsik roared as he sprinted full speed toward first, and at the end he even went into a headfirst slide — and made it safely.
"Safe!"
"See that, rookie?! This is a man's baseball right here!"
Kang Dongsik brushed the dirt off his uniform with a hearty laugh. Before she could even marvel that a virtual reality game had rendered that level of detail, Pi Anta — having just watched that play — found her mind tangled in emotions she couldn't put into words.
It was common knowledge that a headfirst slide into first was slower than running through the bag. With the injury risk high, coaches these days urged most players to hold back. And yet there were moments when it came out anyway.
Out of desperation.
Because the heart was racing.
Because you wanted to win so badly.
Faced with a veteran's fighting spirit packed full of sincerity, Pi Anta couldn't even process that she'd been completely outplayed on a tactical level — she just stared blankly at Kang Dongsik standing on first.
What reason could there be to go this far in a mere scrimmage? Just what was baseball to him? What made him pour out every ounce of his soul from the very first half-inning of the bottom of the first?
Pi Anta, genuinely, began to wonder about Kang Dongsik's baseball.