First Taegeuk Mark (6)
[Taiwan is making a pitching change! Left-hander Jang O-wi!]
Bottom of the eighth, the score still locked at 0–1.
With two outs and runners on first and second, Taiwan pulled the left-handed bullpen card, Jang O-wi. The batter at the plate was a lefty. A pinch hitter was possible, but the next man up was a lefty too. A perfectly reasonable choice.
[Lee Hajun of the Republic of Korea will face Taiwan’s new pitcher, Jang O-wi.]
[We’re up by a single run, and in the top of the ninth our guardian angel Hong Jongyeon is scheduled to take the mound—but it would be nice to pad the lead right here.]
[This is exactly the kind of moment Lee Hajun never backs down from. This season he’s reinvented himself as the league’s premier contact hitter!]
No matter how deep the team’s faith in their closer ran, anything could still happen in a one-run game.
I have to drive in a run right here.
He already had a hit today, and he’d squared up a couple of balls cleanly, but the thirst refused to leave him. Hajun was hunting for prey.
Whap!
“Ball!”
“·····”
A slider away. If he hadn’t already decided to take the first pitch, he might have swung.
Even a hitter who trusted his contact ability as much as he did still found left-handers a constant headache. And a left-handed sidearmer like the one standing on that mound made it even worse.
Crack!
“Foul!”
The fastball sat around 145 km/h, but the unfamiliar arm slot left him a fraction late.
Crack!
“Foul!”
Whap!
“Ball!”
Still, Hajun never got the feeling that a chase pitch would make him wave at air.
[No need to swing at anything out of the zone. Taiwan is definitely conscious of Lee Hajun’s contact skills.]
[Two-and-two. How will this at-bat end?]
Pitcher Jang O-wi took longer than before exchanging signs, then delivered.
Crack!
Slider away.
So far the batter had fouled the fastballs off with sharp contact, but the sliders had produced only weak fouls. That was the pitch they chose.
[He goes the other way! The ball finds the hole between third and short—base hit!]
Got it!
Hajun punched the air after lining the outside slider cleanly into the gap. The third-base coach windmilled his arm like a madman, and second-base runner Song Junhyeong tore for home.
“Safe!”
The catcher never even entertained the idea of a play at the plate.
[Second-base runner Song Junhyeong scores! Lee Hajun delivers a precious insurance run!]
[A true clutch performer!]
I’m exhausted.
Full innings in the heat, plus long defensive stretches through the middle of the game—Hajun was running on fumes. Still, there were things you simply had to do. He formed a T with his hands, claiming his place on this national team.
Pinch-hitter Kim Seonghui of the Seoul Highlanders grounded out, ending the bottom of the eighth.
Crack!
“Whoa?”
[That’s well struck····· and it’s gone!]
A one-run lead and a two-run lead are worlds apart.
They had handed league-best closer Hong Jongyeon a two-run cushion, yet with one out a high fastball on the inner half sailed into the night. Taiwan’s number-three hitter Guan Wei’s massive home run.
Shortstop Hajun spun the instant the ball left the bat, already certain it had cut the deficit in half.
“Forget it! We’re still winning!”
“Stay calm.”
The infielders each offered a word to the pitcher. Hong Jongyeon forced a smile.
Then the next battle.
Whap!
“Strike three!”
[Swing and a miss! Ballgame! The Republic of Korea defeats Taiwan 2–1 and advances as the top seed from Group B!]
[Our boys fought brilliantly today!]
“Daehan Minguk! Daehan Minguk!”
Spectators waving the Taegeukgi applauded the national team for conquering a tough opponent.
Clap! Clap!
The nine men who had held their positions through the final out filed into the dugout trading high-fives.
I’m wiped.
Hajun smiled even as sweat blurred his vision. For a mid-season call-up he had enjoyed a decent rest, and this was only the second consecutive day of games—yesterday he had even been lifted early. Yet few games had left him this drained at the final out. It wasn’t just the Japanese heat.
“·····”
The time came for the Korean and Taiwanese teams to exchange greetings. By chance, Lee Hajun found himself face-to-face with Taiwan’s Liu Pei.
They both bowed politely.
This guy.
The expressionless mask he wore on the mound was the same one he wore now—almost nothing showing on the surface.
If I keep climbing to higher levels·····
At this rate he believed he could reach the Olympics, the WBC, every major international tournament stocked with the absolute best. Thinking about the pitchers he would face on those stages·····
Even Japan, hosting the event, was fielding corporate-league teams, yet the names alone were enough to make anyone’s head spin. The same went for the American and Latin American squads. Liu Pei had already tormented the Korean lineup; the thought of meeting even greater arms in future internationals made Hajun’s skull ache.
“Hoo·····”
“What the hell are you doing?”
Park Sihye stared in confusion at Hajun suddenly clutching his own face. The guy sometimes just stood there in silence doing weird stuff.
Did I overdo it?
A person can only live in the present moment. Letting random thoughts—especially fretting over a future that still had plenty of time left—take over was never a good idea. For now there was only this Asian Games, and the next game. Focusing on what stood right in front of him was already more than enough.
Crack!
[He pulled it! Deep to left! Way back! And that’ll do it—Kim Hojung’s walk-off home run!]
The first national-team appearance of Daegu Warriors slugger Kim Hojung ended with a game-ending blast. Except this wasn’t the bottom of the ninth.
It was Korea’s third game in Asian Games Group B baseball. Against Laos they had already built a 0–15 lead by the bottom of the fifth and sent the spectators home early.
[The Republic of Korea crushes Laos and advances to the Super Round as Group B champions!]
[Even with a wholesale lineup change from yesterday’s starters, a five-inning mercy-rule win. Our boys are strong.]
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
Hajun and the rest of the players applauded.
Three games played: one full nine innings, one lifted after five, and the last one complete rest without even taking the field. Hajun was enjoying luxuries he never got with his club team.
[Korea heads to Okazaki to decide medals and their colors! Please keep cheering us on. Thank you.]
Group A advanced Japan and China. Group B advanced Korea and Taiwan. As Group B’s top seed, Korea would now face Japan and China—everyone except the Taiwan they had already met—to re-rank the four teams in a fresh round-robin. Korea was gunning for a clean sweep.
“Good work, everyone. Tomorrow’s a rest day, so manage your condition carefully·····”
“Yes, sir!”
National-team manager Park Seongrae delivered the message and left. Even during his pro-team days he had been famous for a leadership style that barely registered; he left the strong personalities of the national squad largely untouched.
“I heard Nagoya’s famous for being boring anyway. Not like anyone feels like going out from here.”
“Even if it is Nagoya, what if you go out for fun and end up on camera?”
A few years earlier some players had been drinking in Japan and been mistaken for visiting a hostess bar, sparking a whole mess. Ever since, players had been especially careful overseas.
“I’m heading straight to my room.”
“Same.”
A few still wanted to go out and play, but far more were itching to grab a medal as soon as possible.
China, huh.
The Super Round opener was against China. Still no room for complacency.
“Daehan Minguk!”
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
[The Super Round opener between Korea and China is about to begin.]
[Aside from the Taiwan game, every win has been a mercy-rule blowout. Hoping for another dominant performance today.]
[And to answer the hopes of baseball fans everywhere, Korea’s leadoff man Lee Hajun steps in once more.]
The Taiwan game.
The more someone truly understood baseball, the more carefully they refused to underrate Taiwan. Yet ordinary Korean fans almost never thought of Taiwan as a true rival, so even after a win many people still tilted their heads. Especially after the pro league’s recent boom years had drawn so many new fans, the disconnect was even sharper. Hardcore baseball fans wanted to tear their hair out, but public perception changed slowly.
Whap!
“Ball!”
[Lee Hajun lays off that pitch for ball three!]
Flat.
Hajun had no intention of mocking the pitcher, but the starter simply wasn’t threatening. Taiwan was one thing; China was another. Historically tangled with Korea in countless ways, and a nation that booked first place at every Asian Games.
Crack!
Even though the game itself was far easier, the moment he faced them the entire nation’s eyes locked on.
[A well-struck ball to right!]
[Oh—it’s huge!]
Hajun flipped the bat.
Good.
Looks like he wasn’t destined to finish this tournament with zero home runs after all.