Daejeon's Princess (4)
Pop!
"Strike!"
A sinker in on the hands, then the sweeper.
Even after allowing the leadoff man Felix to reach base, Ryze was cooking the hitters his own way in the top of the second.
Having boldly dominated the fifth hitter Seong Jinwoo, Ryze looked again at the mitt set up outside.
CRACK!
He forced the outside pitch and pulled it. The ball hit the ground first — a win for the pitcher. But the trajectory was trying, with wicked precision, to thread the gap between third and short.
For a split second, Ryze's face twisted.
Thud.
"Ugh!"
Hajun dashed hard and, at the last moment, flung himself to the dirt, snatching the ball as he went down.
It hadn't been a particularly hard-hit ball, but there was no time for a leisurely throw. From a half-reclined position — the only posture that still gave him a chance to get the ball across — Hajun fired toward first.
"Out!"
The batter-runner Seong Jinwoo flung both arms wide in a desperate appeal, but the first-base umpire was unmoved.
"Oh, please, please— WAAAAAAAH!"
It was only the second inning, but with a one-run lead on the line, first and second with nobody out had looked all but certain. Then the team's shortstop manufactured an out out of thin air.
Even for the visiting fans, trying to write it off as just a sacrifice bunt and claim a moral victory was a stretch. A trajectory that had seemed ready to tilt the inning sideways had been wrenched back on course.
The crowd roared. On the mound, Ryze raised a thumb toward Hajun. And Han Seoa, the ceremonial first-pitch thrower, covered her mouth with one hand but could not hide the way her eyes had gone wide at the spectacular play.
The visiting fans wanted nothing more than to render the home team's highlight-reel defense meaningless.
Pop!
"Strike three!"
But Ryze's stuff today was at its absolute peak.
"Ryze! Ryze! Ryze!"
Hajun's defense had flipped the atmosphere, and Ryze's strikeout show poured gasoline on the fire.
Bottom of the second. The home fans cheered with everything they had, hoping the lead would grow —
CRACK!
"Out!"
In baseball, things rarely go the way you wish. A one-run lead. Even rooting for a team with an .800 winning percentage in the second half, even with the ace on the mound, the fans could never fully relax.
Top of the third.
Pop!
"Strike three!"
One out on Ryze's sinker in on the hands.
CRACK!
The Clippers' ninth hitter, catcher Park Hyeonbo, got ahold of a sweeper that drifted a little too far over the plate. A hard-hit ball sailed toward center, then began to drop.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
Sighs from the Clippers fans who had been waiting for the top of the order. Hawks fans answered with gasps and cheers for the dazzling defense.
CRACK!
Kim Jiseong, the Clippers' leadoff man and one of the fastest hitters in the league, put the ball in play — more of a roll than a real attempt at a hit.
"Out!"
In baseball, the most important position on the defensive side is the pitcher — an absolute, undeniable truth. But in the end, nine men become one to shut down the other side's attack. At least in today's game, the Hawks' pitcher was locking hitters down, and the fielders were hunting down every ball that tried to escape.
Pop!
"Ball!"
"Everyone, let's give our players an even bigger cheer so they can put some runs on the board this time!"
"WAAAAAAAH!"
The cheer captain whipped the crowd into a frenzy — and he had every reason to. Leadoff hitter Lee Hajun was walking to the plate.
Pop!
"Ball!"
Pop!
"Ball!"
Pitcher Lee Saenal's anxiety was visible right through his glasses.
A suffocating moment. Clippers catcher Park Hyeonbo called for a fastball in on the hands.
"…"
Hajun, who had not swung the bat once this at-bat, had a flash in his eyes.
CRACK!
In Major League Baseball, swinging on a 3-0 count no longer raised eyebrows. But in Korean baseball, most hitters preferred not to offer at 0-3 — and they grew even more passive when a trustworthy bat was waiting behind them.
Hajun, though, trusted his own swing.
"WAAAAAAAH!"
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
In a slightly loose situation, the most reliable hitter on the team delivered a hit. Hawks fans, the tension blown clean out of their chests, erupted as if someone had just gone deep.
Already the Clippers' pitching coach was climbing the mound. If both runners came around here and it became 0–3… They knew who the Hawks' pitcher was. They knew the state of a bullpen that didn't exactly enjoy a glowing reputation around the league. Right now, they had to hold Lee Saenal's psyche together and get out of this somehow.
Catcher Park Hyeonbo pounded his chest and urged the pitcher on from the mound.
CRACK!
But baseball is a cold sport. Jays flung the bat aside and took off running.
On the first pitch, a clothesline of a line drive. The right fielder never even thought about catching it. A fine piece of fence work — but the best he could manage was keeping it from being a triple.
A pumped-up Jays struck a pose and celebrated.
Yes!
Hajun, who had crossed the plate with the calm authority of a man who belonged there, couldn't hold back a grin. As a shortstop, he knew exactly how sharp Ryze's stuff was today. That made the insurance runs that had just exploded off the bats mean everything.
"Good, good — keep stacking runners, everybody."
Cleanup hitter Kim Dongseong said it. In a game this closely watched, everyone wanted to put on a show. And if that was the case, there was no reason not to show that fire.
CRACK!
Three-hole hitter Park Jinhyeok drew a walk. The Clippers' manager felt a faint, uneasy prickle — but of course it was still too early to make a change.
And the result of that decision:
"OOOOOOOH!"
Everyone rooting for the Hawks rose from their seats. A famous idol singer. Parents who'd been too busy wrangling two small children to pay attention. A retake student who'd snuck out of cram school. In this moment, they were all equal.
And at the same time, the batter Kim Dongseong — who had already flung his bat — thrust his index finger high into the sky.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Pitcher Lee Saenal dropped his head. Everyone accepted that today's game had just changed completely.
"Oh! For the victory of Daejeon!"
While the Hawks fans were essentially running a full-blown concert, CRACK!
The bottom of the third still wasn't over, and the Hawks hitters kept pounding the Clippers' successive pitchers without mercy. A lineup that had been accused of leaning too hard on the top of the order was washing that stigma clean, wave after wave.
CRACK!
"Out!"
If there was one thing that would never change in Korean professional baseball, it was this: Busan's baseball fans were more passionate than anyone. Even when their team couldn't catch a break.
The score: 0–8. Already seven runs surrendered, and the bottom of the third still wasn't finished. Two outs, runners on first and second.
The pitcher the Clippers brought in to stop the bleeding was Kim Donghwan — a man who, whenever his team was getting blown out, was said to throw like Gwangju Kings closer Park Haein. He had come on to end this nightmare.
The broadcasters were doing their best to force some drama back onto a game that had already been decided.
Was that a splitter earlier?
Hajun replayed in his mind the moment the ninth hitter, Jo Inbeom, had gone out on an infield fly.
Pop!
"Ball!"
He didn't bite on the high fastball. He didn't bite on the low splitter either. And then the third pitch.
Fastball!
The pitcher was trying to elevate a heater and induce a fly ball, but unfortunately it came in a little lower than intended — and Hajun did not miss it.
CRACK!
"That's well struck!"
A pure, ringing crack of the bat, and a line drive tore toward center field with vicious intent.
Not this time!
Center fielder An Donghae charged hard. Perfect read on the ball —
Wait—?
—or so it seemed, until reverse spin suddenly took hold and the ball began to tail.
Thud!
The ball snubbed An Donghae's glove as he dove, and his body was already committed forward. Today, of all days, the Daejeon Hawks' outfield looked impossibly vast.
While the Clippers' two corner outfielders sighed and scrambled to clean up the mess, Hajun had already reached second base.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
The home fans started to launch into Hajun's cheer song, then immediately switched to raw screaming.
The third-base coach had already been windmilling his arm like a fan. Clippers right fielder Felix made a throw, but the infielder who was supposed to relay it home didn't look particularly motivated.
Hajun, who normally barely showed emotion even after a base hit, clenched his fist for once and roared, pouring every ounce of feeling out into the open air.