Daejeon's Princess (5)
Machine-like contact! Beast-like speed! This is Lee Hajun's baseball! Lee Hajun crowns his fourth home run of the season with an inside-the-park job, and the score is now 0–11!
I thought An Donghae had every right to be aggressive there, but the ball just kept carrying all the way through. That's why it ended like this. The Hawks' lineup has been absolutely terrifying lately.
"Yeeeeaaaaaah!"
Hajun roared, fist clenched, before the rough hands of his teammates worked him over with celebratory punches and massages all the way back to the dugout.
"Ahem…"
Only then did he reclaim his composure.
Baseball was a delicate sport. He believed that to perform in games the way he did in practice, a man had to keep a calm mind at all times — and that was a conviction that would not change today, or ever.
But watching his teammates' lively ceremony and the passionate crowd today, something had slipped out of him before he could stop it — a burst of pure, unfiltered heat.
Crack!
Batting second, Jays went the other way and punched out a single.
"Ooooh, strongest Daejeon, we shall win!"
The home fans at Hawks Park barely registered the hit. They just kept singing. It wasn't indifference toward their lucky foreign bat — they had already decided the score no longer mattered. This was a festival, and they meant to enjoy it.
"Yaaawn. Looks like I'm not getting in today."
"Yeah, no kidding."
Hajun answered Jin Yeongil without looking up.
A score of 0–11. The dull, beaten look in the opposing players' eyes. Even if — God forbid — it somehow became 11–11, he was confident they could flip it right back.
"Still, you never know. Don't get too loose out there."
"Ah, yes, hyung."
"Understood."
Park Jisu, playing third base in place of designated hitter Park Jinhyeok, reined the two younger players in with a quiet word.
Crack!
A ball stroked the other way to right… drops inside the line! Fair ball!
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
"Was that hyung the one saying it wasn't over yet?"
"Haha…"
Bottom of the fourth. Batting seventh, Park Jisu took an outside curve from the opposing pitcher and went the other way with it, dropping the ball just inside the right-field line. With runners on first and second and one out, it was more than enough to bring both home.
Thirteen-run lead! The Daejeon Hawks are running away with this one, 0–13! This lineup simply will not cool down!
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
One round of applause was for Park Jisu — the thirty-something utility infielder who had come over in the trade and been pure gold ever since.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
The next was for the woman the Hawks fans adored.
On the scoreboard, Han Seoa was leaving her seat with the staff, waving to the crowd. She would have loved to stay a little longer, but as a professional she couldn't ignore her schedule.
"Who's gonna snatch up a woman like that?"
Yeongil, sitting next to Hajun, said it out loud.
"If you like her, why not give it a shot?"
Hajun fiddled with his glove as he answered.
"Come on, man, I know I'm out of my league. And when someone's that famous, the pressure alone would keep me from even meeting her. I'd rather…"
Yeongil pointed at a pretty spectator the scoreboard had briefly caught on camera.
"Someone like that? I'd be happy."
"Hmm…"
Hajun glanced around on instinct, checking whether anyone was listening. Last year, one of his Lakers teammates had been talking about female fans in the stands, and a YouTube channel had failed to edit it properly — the guy had been put through hell for it. Yeongil talked a little carelessly sometimes, but deep down he was a good guy. If that hyung ever got misunderstood over something like this, Hajun would feel genuinely bad for him.
Pressure, huh.
Hajun watched Han Seoa leave without ever losing her smile for the cameras.
"If you just sit still because of the pressure, you'll never get anything."
"Huh?"
Yeongil looked at him, but said nothing. The kid had always been the type to suddenly mutter to himself and drift off into thought.
Pressure.
Lately, Hajun could feel the attention on him growing for real. On the YouTube channel, people kept approaching him within the bounds of not being a nuisance, asking him to do this or that. More and more fans wanted autographs. Once in a very rare while, the thought even crossed his mind that he just wanted to play baseball and nothing else.
He practiced mental discipline constantly, but the rising expectations every time he stepped into the box still weighed on him. He knew he had to endure it. What had once been an effort to stay calm so he could play even a little better now seemed to help him hold his form together.
"Ah, no…"
"Wonder when she'll come again."
"…"
Sighs rose from all over the dugout as Han Seoa departed. Hajun, too, watched her face one last time as the camera closed in on it.
— I've really been into him lately. He's my bias.
— You're winning Rookie of the Year this season, okay?
"Hmm."
Maybe I should take a little interest.
When he got home, he thought, he should look up Evelyn's new stage performance on YouTube — or rather, search for a Han Seoa solo fancam.
The center fielder on this ball… drops it! Base hit!
Uh-oh, it's still rolling…
"How many times are you going to watch that?"
"Sorry — was I being loud?"
The stylist spoke to Han Seoa, who was watching short clips of the ongoing game on her phone beside her. On the screen, Lee Hajun's inside-the-park home run from earlier that day was playing on loop. It was, for all practical purposes, the biggest highlight of the game.
"Must be nice. When are our Clippers going to get their act together?"
Stylist Park Somi. She was reaching the age where marriage was starting to feel urgent, but baseball-related stress kept sabotaging every diet she attempted. As fellow baseball maniacs who had known each other for years, she and Seoa used to bond over complaining about their teams — until the Hawks' recent surge put a crack in that particular brand of friendship.
"They'll turn it around someday."
Seoa spoke without looking up from the video, eyes locked on the screen.
"Still, the Hawks have spent a ton of money over the years. We barely spend anything these days. Ugh."
"That team needs to start with the fundamentals before they start throwing money around."
"Excuse me? What did you just say?"
Half-joking, Park Somi glared at the front passenger seat. Manager Lee Junseok — a hardcore fan who had been rooting for the Gwangju Kings for over thirty years thanks to his father — had just taken another mischievous jab. Along with the Daegu Warriors, the Kings had claimed half of all the championships since the founding of Korean professional baseball, the most decorated franchise of them all. With the Kings chasing a three-peat this season, the first thing he checked after work was always the baseball scores.
"Hmm… so this is what it's like sometimes."
"Hm?"
Han Seoa murmured, still absorbed. She didn't care how many titles her team had won in total, or which club was currently the strongest. She was simply happy because the Hawks were playing so well right now.
And on the ninth replay of the video, watching Lee Hajun — a man who barely changed expression after a base hit or a spectacular defensive play — roar after his inside-the-park home run, Han Seoa found herself smiling. It was fun.
"Damn it, are the Kings ever gonna wake up?"
"I thought with Kim Dongjun starting today they might take it."
"Kim Dongjun's gotten old, man. He's old. Sigh."
In the home stands at Hawks Park, a few spectators seemed more interested in a game being played somewhere else. Their own team had essentially locked up the win already. If the Gwangju Kings could just beat the Incheon Dolphins at Gwangju Kings Field right now, the Hawks would sit half a game back in sixth place — but the first-place Kings were trailing the Dolphins by two runs.
"Go get a massage already."
"Yes, sir."
Having only taken three at-bats and played four innings at shortstop before being replaced by An Junpyo, Hajun prepared to move on the coach's word. No one on the Daejeon Hawks needed to be told that Lee Hajun was the core of both their offense and defense, and even though he had only been the everyday shortstop since midseason, his first full-time year at the position made his stamina the team's top priority.
"Oh! For the victory of Daejeon!"
"Louder!"
Hawks Park was still vibrating. A fair number of Clippers fans had filtered out — no one develops a hobby of watching the other side throw themselves a concert while their own team gets demolished — but it hardly mattered.
Crack!
He pulled it! To left! Over the wall! Hoooome run!
A solo shot from Seong Jinu, captain of the Busan Clippers. Watching him fling the bat with that bold, free swing, some people would sneer that it was a fifteen-run home run — but it was the kind of blast that let fans imagine, even a little, that someday their team might rise the way the opposition was rising now.
The home fans left with a game that had made them impossibly happy… and a slightly bitter aftertaste from the news out of another ballpark.
And then, the next day.
Gulp.
The home fans at Hawks Park held their breath as they watched the game unfold.
The bases are loaded. Can they escape this jam and protect the win?
"Hoo…"
The man on the mound was Hawks closer Go Minjae. He had come in boldly in the top of the ninth with the score 3–4, but after giving up a hit to the first batter, his command had frayed just enough to leave him with one out and the bases full.
Hawks starter Estrada. Clippers starter Aaron. A pitchers' duel of genuine craftsmanship had burned its brightest in the final act.
Two balls, two strikes — Yun Gyesang at the plate!
The infield is playing in. Yun Gyesang has to take his own swing here.
Go Minjae threw to the catcher's sign.
Crack!
Clippers middle-of-the-order bat Yun Gyesang pulled the ball. Low launch angle — but the kind of line drive that came off the bat like a bullet.
"Ugh!"
Hajun had been playing farther in than usual, and even so his reaction speed got him there. He snared the ball as it kicked up at the last instant.
Lee Hajun has it — throw home!
A hard-hit ball. A clean, sure throw to the plate.
"Out!"
And catcher Hwang Jaewon fired the ball to first in a hurry.
"Out!"
"Please, please — ohhh… AAAAAAAAH!"
Hawks fans who had been holding their breath erupted into screams of pure joy.
Out at first! Ballgame! Three outs are in the book, and the Daejeon Hawks win again today — they take the series!
And with the game in Gwangju already over…
The Daejeon Hawks climb into sixth place! The second-half surge of the Daejeon Hawks continues. The hawk that soared into the sky has not stopped hunting yet.
In the joy of a dramatic double play, teammates including pitcher Go Minjae flung their caps into the air and went wild.
"Haa…"
Only after the first-base umpire made the firm out call did Hajun feel the tension drain out of him all at once.
"I'm exhausted."
His body was one thing, but the mental energy burned in extreme situations was no joke. Still — today, just for today, he decided he was going to enjoy it.