Championship Clash (4)
We were still locked in a 0-0 tie heading into the bottom of the second, thanks to Jo Sang-hoon shutting them down through two innings. He'd only thrown two pitches in the first, so he was able to come back out for the second.
Our offense went down 1-2-3 in the top of the third as well. It was one of those days where nothing was clicking. After Jo Sang-hoon, I selected the next pitcher from the pen: Lee Yang-hoon.
He was the hurler we'd acquired in a trade during last offseason, sending our catcher Heo Hwan-do the other way. Not quite a lockdown guy, but he'd been solid in long relief. Since August, he'd appeared in ten games with a respectable 2.72 ERA. It was better than expected, so we'd been stretching him out gradually. His condition looked good, and he kept the third scoreless, handing the bat back to us.
The bullpen was in gear, but somehow holding firm. In the top of the fourth, Lim Byung-yoon led off again.
"Grind it out! Keep grinding!" the dugout shouted.
Talbot, who took the mound in the fourth, had only thrown 56 pitches. Our guys were battling deep counts, but it still wasn't enough—no hits yet. Lim Byung-yoon worked him for five pitches but struck out. Watching a guy who just couldn't square it up gave me a knot in my stomach.
But that started to shift thanks to Ko Jong-hoon's at-bat. He chopped one into the hole between third and short. Eagles shortstop Kang Si-hak dove, snagged it, popped up, and fired to first.
"Safe!!!"
It was close, but safe. Ko Jong-hoon had buried his head in the dirt the second he made contact and sprinted full tilt to first. Already fast on his feet, the guy didn't hesitate—he just dove headfirst. That raw desperation burned into everyone's minds. It lit a fire in the dugout too. For the first time, Talbot's shutdown innings had a runner on base.
And next up? The heart of the order.
Kim Kang-jun stepped in, whipping his bat fiercely in his prep swings, locking eyes on the pitcher. The gaze of a man ready. They say good defense breeds good hitting—not just superstition, but because a sharp play boosts confidence, and that focus carries over to the plate. Kim Kang-jun had saved a run with glove work in the first, so expectations were high.
Crack!!
I'd drilled it into the guys a thousand times: don't swing at the first pitch. But Kim Kang-jun crushed the first one. Just like before, Talbot tried sneaking an inside heater early, probably figuring our guys passed on first-pitch strikes. Kang-jun anticipated it and smoked it.
Whoa!! Is it gone? Is it outta here!!!
The ball didn't clear the wall—it ricocheted off the top. Ko Jong-hoon motored from first, and Kim Kang-jun bolted too. Guys often admire a well-struck ball and end up doubled up when it dies; not these two—they ran like hell from the jump. By the time right field scooped it and fired, Ko was past third, Kang-jun past second. The base coach waved Kang-jun homeward after spotting the relay. Right field gunned to third, but Kang-jun slid in safe.
"Woooaaahhh!!!"
The crowd roared louder—their hunger hit home. Park Byung-hyun followed with a deep center fly, and Kang-jun tagged up to score. Finally, in the fourth, we plated two. Seo Geon-cheol singled after, but Yoo Jun-han struck out, ending the threat.
No more runs, but the silent bats had awakened. Energy surged back into the dugout.
Lee Yang-hoon climbed the mound again in the bottom of the fourth. His stuff was holding, and with confidence building, one more seemed fine. Leadoff: Kang Si-hak. He'd shown promise under my guidance at Eagles, but after the manager change, he barely saw the majors. Now, back up top, he looked hungry to prove it. His eyes gleamed.
If Kang got on, Jeong Woo-geun and Lee Gyu-yong loomed. Crucial to slam the door again. But Lee Yang-hoon looked different—sharper. I could tell from his status window.
Status Window
Mindset: Revenge against the Eagles
Lee Yang-hoon was traded here from Eagles. At 190 cm tall—a giant—but his velocity lagged. Early season, under Kim Geun-seong, they ordered him to slim down. He did, but when his fastball topped out at 120 km/h, they cut him as expendable and shipped him out.
We needed arms and saw upside, but even we scratched our heads at first. Then we flipped it—instead of cutting weight, bulk up for power. We pushed him to 120 kg with heavy lifting, and lately, results exploded. Velocity hit the low 140s—not elite, but playable.
He fired with fire in his eyes, fanning Kang Si-hak and Jeong Woo-geun, then inducing a groundout from Lee Gyu-yong after a long battle. Nailed the third and fourth clean. With our two runs, he was in line for the win.
As Lee Yang-hoon strode in after the frame, I couldn't look away. "How you feeling? Can you go more?"
"Of course, Manager. Plenty left."
He grinned. A thirst-quencher for our starter-starved staff, out of nowhere. His current and potential abilities were nearly maxed. Thirty years old—no more upside, but smart maintenance could extend his career.
Gaining weight is as tough as losing it. His natural frame at 190 cm was mid-100s kg; he joined us at 93 after shedding. Six months later: plus 30 kg, all muscle via training. Velocity jumped from 120 to 147 km/h. Kim Geun-seong's diet call baffled me, but my bulk-up order nailed it. Coach Son Hyuk-soo's delivery tweaks helped too.
Gazing at him, I knew stats weren't everything. Numbers hadn't shifted much, but lighter weight sapped output—notes in his window screamed "add weight and muscle." Still, for a peaked vet, bulking seemed counterintuitive till it worked.
We went down 1-2-3 in the fifth on grounders, but Lee Yang-hoon blanked them through the bottom. Solid enough.
Top sixth, Lim Byung-yoon led off—but I pulled the swap card. Pinch-hit Kang Hyun-jun for him. Slighted by not starting? He was fired up, ripping a single off Talbot.
Ko Jong-hoon's turn. I flashed signs to him and Kang Hyun-jun. Ko shortened his grip; infield crept in. Runners at corners with Kang-jun up next—they were desperate to stop the steal.
As Talbot wound with a fastball, Kang Hyun-jun bolted to second. Second baseman covered; Ko lengthened his bat in a flash and yanked one through the vacated hole.
Crack!
Run-and-hit perfection. Kang Hyun-jun peeked post-contact and motored to third. No outs, corners loaded—Kim Kang-jun up. Talbot at 97 pitches, trying to gut it out. Eagles pen warmed, but no hook yet.
A gassed arm couldn't stop him.
CRACK!!!
Kang-jun timed a slider perfectly—gone. The sound said homer before sight confirmed. He ran hard till it cleared, throttling speed only then. 5-0 in a blink. Talbot finally yanked late in the sixth.
The replacement got lit; we loaded the bases, and Kang-jun doubled again. Third in fourth, homer and double in sixth—one single from the cycle. Plenty of at-bats left; he could do it.
Top ninth, Kang-jun led off, eyes blazing. One hit for youngest-ever cycle. Record: Shin Jeong-gil at 20 years, 10 months, 21 days. Kang-jun's? 18 years, 11 months, 7 days.
We watched, hearts pounding. Pre-at-bat reminder: no doubling up—take your base.
He met Eagles pitcher's offering with a smooth, effortless swing.
Crack!!
"Woooaaahhh!!!"
Fans, coaches, players—we leaped, cheering the cycle. Kang-jun trotted slow to first, then froze.
"What... no way... how?!"
Not caught—gone. A "light" liner cleared the wall. First cycle chase: thwarted.
Still, Lee Yang-hoon blanked his old club for three frames, notching his first win in 1,127 days. The guys' grit turned a grinder into a romp, pushing us onward.