Toward Fifth Place (4)
He connects! Line drive headed straight for the shortstop!
A cleanly struck line drive. Joy and despair split cleanly between the two teams' fans as the ball screamed toward the space above shortstop Lee Hajun's head. The batter was a contact hitter with bottom-of-the-league speed—Hajun had been playing deeper than usual.
"Uh—?"
Already in the right spot, Hajun exploded upward with perfect timing, his athleticism carrying him high into the air.
He snags it! Lee Hajun leaps and hauls it in—and fires straight to second!
The throw to second was already mapped out in his head before his feet even left the ground.
"Out!"
"Wooooooooooo!"
He's out! Double play!
Oh, that was just…
Bases loaded with nobody out, a well-struck ball—the fair reward should have been a 2–2 tie with runners still on first and second. Instead, two outs ticked up on the board at once, and the baserunners in scoring position vanished.
That play was essentially the same as hitting a two-run homer. Looking at it again, it's just incredible.
As long as this player is in the Daejeon Hawks' infield, you can never be sure what a batted ball will become!
Pop!
"Strike three!"
He freezes him on the drop! Lee Jaein punches out the third out with a strikeout—answering that brilliant defense with brilliant pitching of his own!
It was a rough stretch for the Hawks, but that play changed everything.
"We're alive, Hajun!"
Lee Jaein, one year older, clapped him on the shoulder.
"The second it left the bat I figured it was gone for sure."
"Same, same."
The other infielders chimed in one after another. It wasn't just encouragement for a teammate who'd swung the game's momentum—it was pure, unfiltered awe.
"Get Seungyeop ready."
"Already, sir?"
Even after escaping the jam with a strikeout—even after Jaein had been holding his own as the starter—Hawks manager Park Taesik was already preparing to fire up the bullpen as they headed into the top of the fourth.
We win this game. No matter what.
Every single contest from here on out was a Korean Series game in Park Taesik's mind.
Crack!
Well-struck ball—right at the third baseman!
"Out!"
He's out! Pitcher Lee Jaein pumps his fist. Beautiful glove work from Park Jinhyeok!
The Hawks' infield defense today has been absolutely airtight.
As if answering Hajun's super play, the third baseman locked down an even sturdier defense than usual. When the shortstop at the heart of the infield gives you that kind of confidence, the rest of the infield feels it too.
Pop!
"Strike three!"
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
Even on a day when his command was drifting, Lee Jaein showed exactly why a power arm still had the edge. It was the Hawks' answer to Oh Yeongju's strikeout showcase for the Grizzlies in the top of the fourth.
"Lee! Ha! Jun! Crush it!"
Pop!
"Strike!"
"…"
I thought that was low.
In the bottom of the fifth, with one out and a runner on, Manager Park Taesik pulled the trigger and lifted Lee Jaein. What followed was swarm baseball—wave after wave of relievers.
On the other side, Oh Yeongju of the Grizzlies had shut them down completely from the fourth through the sixth. Now, trailing by a single run, he faced a crisis that could give up the insurance run.
Two outs, runners on first and second—Oh Yeongju already past a hundred pitches!
He walked him last time up, so Lee Hajun has reached base all three times against Yeongju today. I thought Manager Lee Junhyeok would go to a lefty out of the pen, but they're sticking with him.
Two balls, two strikes.
"Strike him out!"
"Hit!"
"Strike him out!"
"Hit!"
Home and away fans traded chants like they'd rehearsed it. A one-run knife-edge battle that had been grinding since the opening innings. The fans were wilting under the summer heat and the tension of the game itself, yet they still poured everything they had into praying for their side's victory.
Here it is—the critical at-bat!
Oh Yeongju fired toward the outside corner of the left-handed batter's box.
Fastball?
Yeongju's pitching was starting to look familiar. Hajun swung with confidence.
Whoosh—!
Uh—?
"Strike three!"
"Wooooooooooo!"
Swinging strikeout! Oh Yeongju finally gets the Lee Hajun who's been tormenting him all night! We head to the bottom of the seventh!
That was an absolute masterpiece of a pitching performance. The home fans have every right to be proud.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
Oh Yeongju!
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
Oh Yeongju!
Seven innings, two runs, twelve strikeouts. Even in a loss, Oh Yeongju had pitched like an ace, and the home crowd at Jamsil held nothing back. That the final punchout had come against the devilish Lee Hajun—against a hitter who almost never struck out in the second half—only made the applause louder.
"It was a changeup."
"Yes, sir."
"Tough one. Get ready."
"Understood."
Hitting coach Song Daehyeon offered a word of comfort to the frustrated Hajun. Of course, there was no time to stew—he had to take the field again immediately.
Yeah. I'll give him that.
Hajun watched Oh Yeongju leave the game and thought it through. In a sport where winning four out of ten already made you a freak of nature, the faster you shook off the disappointment, the better.
Coming on to pitch the bottom of the seventh for the Daejeon Hawks—Han Wonhyeong.
After Manager Park Taesik's quick hook, the Hawks had successfully handed the game over to their high-leverage arms. If they could close this one out, he was confident they could sweep the weekend series too. Beyond the recent surge in momentum, Park Taesik had zero intention of letting the climb to fifth place slip into next week.
Pop!
"Strike three!"
K! K! K! Park Sihye roars! This game that refuses to be decided heads into the top of the ninth!
If Lee Hajun had been the nightmare for the Hawks tonight, Steven had been the most terrifying bat for the Grizzlies. But Park Sihye's high fastball pulled Steven's bat through the zone, and the fans could finally start thinking about insurance runs with the lead still intact.
Coming onto the mound for the bottom of the ninth, chasing a comeback—this man.
"Hoo…"
Hajun had already seen him warming in the bullpen. His nerves had no choice but to tighten. In a game this critical, Grizzlies manager Lee Junhyeok was bringing in his closer, Hong Jongyeon, for the ninth.
It was an era when every team's closer was making noise. And setting aside Park Haein of the Gwangju Kings—who was having a sudden career year—if you looked at average performance and sheer presence over the past several seasons, this was the pitcher who most deserved the title of Korea's best closer.
Pop!
Pop!
Even the warm-up throws radiated power. National team closer and Grizzlies franchise star Hong Jongyeon had arrived.
The key for the Hawks will be whether they can manufacture a chance for leadoff hitter Lee Hajun.
To erase the top of the ninth, to get their most trusted bat to the plate—these are players with a crystal-clear purpose facing each other down.
Pop!
Pop!
"Strike three!"
"Wooooooooooo!"
Back-to-back strikeouts! Park Jisu's bat never even gets close!
"Damn…"
Pinch-hitting, Park Jisu had no chance of catching up to the outside fastball. Mid-150s velocity. Elite spin rate and movement. Against a world-class fastball, hitters were simply helpless.
Stepping in—Bae Hojun.
Thanks to the new superstar shortstop Lee Hajun, Bae Hojun hadn't come close to earning his free-agent price tag—yet at least the abuse had quieted down lately. Bumped from the starting shortstop job, he still came out determined to contribute however he could.
Crack!
But Hong Jongyeon was not a pitcher you could beat with heart alone.
A chopped ball toward short—
"Huh?"
Hajun, waiting on deck and already thinking about ninth-inning defense, went wide-eyed.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The shortstop boots it! Error by Park Siheon in the top of the ninth—Bae Hojun reaches first!
That hop took a truly wicked bounce right in front of him.
A cruel, irregular hop in front of the shortstop—nothing you could call anything but pure misfortune. And just like that, the at-bat fell to Hajun.
"Everyone—one more push! Let's will a run across!"
The Hawks fans who had stayed through this nerve-shredding game prepared to wring out their last reserves of strength.
"…"
Hajun settled into his stance and stepped into the box. The man on the mound was probably the pitcher nearly every baseball fan in the country would choose if they only needed one inning. Hajun thought so too.
A kid one year younger than me, and look at him.
Unlike Hajun, who had hit a wall the moment he turned pro, Hong Jongyeon had been a league-best player from his rookie year. On the days when darker feelings crept in, this was one of the names that sometimes surfaced in his head.
But that doesn't matter now.
All he had to do was manufacture a run somehow—or reach base and pass the baton to the next hitter.
This might be the most important at-bat of the entire game. First pitch!
Hajun calmly locked in his timing.
Crack!
"Foul!"
"Ugh."
One hundred fifty-five kilometers an hour. Hajun felt his hands tremble. He had faced plenty of hard throwers and pitchers with filthy stuff—but Hong Jongyeon's pure stuff lived on another plane.
Pop!
"Ball!"
Crack!
"Foul!"
Pop!
"Ball!"
Ball. Two and two!
Hong Jongyeon's fastball is still ridiculous—but Lee Hajun is fouling off everything that comes into the zone, isn't he?
Nothing but fastballs, one after another.
Crack!
"Foul!"
Hajun slapped another one foul.
If this keeps going…
Thanks to his Silver skill set, Hajun had more confidence in his ability to put the bat on the ball than most people realized. He wanted to drag this battle out.
And then—a pitch diving in on his hands.
This is—?
At the last instant of his swing, Hajun let go with one hand.
Crack!
Slider! Lee Hajun barely fouls it off!
Hong Jongyeon and Kim Gangcheol look frustrated.
"Foul!"
That was close.
A razor-sharp slider suddenly diving in on his hands had rattled even Hajun. But somehow, he had survived.
A brutal duel—what does Hong Jongyeon throw next?
After exchanging signs, the pitcher went right into his delivery.
This is genuinely hard.
Baseball was a sport that heavily favored the pitcher to begin with, and with the tools Hajun currently possessed, Korea's best closer might simply be a little too much.
Crack!
But if he could put a ball in play—and if that ball carried some real force behind it—nobody could predict the result.
A ball pushed the other way—!
The sheer life on that fastball still shoved Hajun's bat just a fraction late.
This is—?
Hajun took off for first immediately.
The third baseman can't glove it—it sneaks down the left-field line! Fair ball!
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Woooooooooooo!"
Late on the pitch or not, it had caught the sweet spot of the bat and come off hot. The left fielder had no realistic chance of cutting it off cleanly.
The runner from first is flying!
Bae Hojun never stopped running. Left fielder Steven finally tracked down the ball that had rolled deep into the corner.
The runner from third is coming home!
The throw came home—but by the time the catcher secured it, Bae Hojun's foot was already on the plate.
Safe at the plate! Lee Hajun's RBI single adds another run—and makes the Hawks' victory that much clearer!
"Lee Hajun! Lee Hajun! Lee Hajun!"
The one-run knife edge that had held all night finally softened. Hawks fans could finally breathe. Grizzlies fans had been doused with cold water that somehow still wasn't refreshing. But the bottom of the ninth remained—nobody was leaving.
Pop!
"Strike three!"
Outside corner! That is the final pitch of the game!
Hawks closer Go Minjae threw both arms wide and roared, and the camera cut straight to a broadly smiling Hajun.