All-Out War the Instant He Reached the First Team (2)
“Against left-handed hitters it’s fastball or splitter. Just lay off anything low.”
“Understood.”
Lee Hajun, who had not been lifted for a pinch hitter, listened to hitting coach Song Daehyeon.
Of course he already knew all of this. There was no way he was unfamiliar with Park Haein of the Kings, the closer currently putting up the most overwhelming performance of any pitcher in the league.
Would’ve been nicer if the situation were a little better…
For a brief moment he thought, of all times, it had to be a spot like this. But only for a moment. He knew better than anyone that he was not in a position to pick and choose his opportunities.
And if he could actually solve Park Haein?
It would be a real chance to stamp my name in their minds.
He might keep getting regular at-bats from here on. But if he failed? In this atmosphere, if he made a weak out and the team went on to lose, the risk would only grow larger. The fans would hurl even more stones at the outsider who had just rolled in.
Hajun walked toward a plate that was both valuable and dangerous.
“Huh? Why aren’t they changing him?”
“Man, they really need to put a pinch hitter in…”
A low murmur rose. As Lee Hajun prepared to step into the box, the home crowd’s reaction was less anticipation than worry and doubt.
“Everyone, please cheer so our Lee Hajun can come through!”
The Hawks’ cheer leader tried to whip up a response. The cheerleaders, instead of dancing, simply waved their arms in a perfunctory call for support.
“Hit! Lee Hajun!”
There was no real cheer song, of course. Back in his Lakers days he had possessed a dry, generic team chant, but almost no baseball fan bothered to memorize the cheer for another club’s specialist pinch-runner. At least for now, in Korean professional baseball, the name Lee Hajun was nowhere near a star.
“Hoo…”
A little hot.
He had already been out as a runner and played shortstop, so a light sheen of sweat covered him. Even after the sun dropped, the humidity made the evening feel sticky and irritating.
Whoosh—!
Hajun took a few practice swings and settled into the box.
All right. Let’s see just how good you really are.
Park Haein was a pitcher he had never faced even once. From what he had heard, the man’s main weapons were a fastball and a splitter, and the stuff was more impressive than the raw velocity.
Wait… didn’t I face a guy like that last time?
Daegu Warriors closer Shim Jaehoon. His secondary pitches weren’t as polished as Park Haein’s, but his confidence in the fastball was every bit as absolute. Hajun had squared up one of those full-effort heaters for a clean hit. In the endless stream of pitcher-hitter battles that make up Korean baseball, a second-team matchup never became news.
“….”
A famous baseball axiom floated through Hajun’s mind.
Gwangju Kings starting catcher Jeong Chanwoo set his mitt tight to Hajun’s body. With no need to worry about the runners, Park Haein threw with full confidence.
In the box, Hajun thought:
Hunt the first pitch from a new pitcher!
Especially against a hitter who gave the pitcher no reason to change his usual sequence.
CRACK—!
Hajun’s bat flashed through the zone like lightning.
A pure, hard-hit ball rocketed toward right field.
Kings right fielder Jang Daeho sprinted full tilt after the rolling ball. The exit velocity had been so high that the carom off the wall came back just as fast. Jang Daeho, famous league-wide for his cannon arm, fired a strong throw to second baseman Lee Jeongjae, who immediately relayed home.
The runner from second, Park Jinhyeok, had already crossed the plate.
Catcher Jeong Chanwoo versus the runner from first, Ji Gyeongjun.
“Safe!”
“Lee Hajun! Lee Hajun! Lee Hajun!”
“All right everyone, clap!”
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
An unexpected game-tying hit produced a massive roar. Once the fans calmed down they began chanting the new player’s name, finally collecting themselves, while the Hawks cheer leader, face blooming with a smile, led the applause.
The anxiety had not completely vanished. No matter which path their team took against the Gwangju Kings, it always seemed to end at the same destination of defeat. But for this moment at least, they decided to enjoy it.
“….”
Hajun calmly watched home plate. A game-tying hit off Park Haein—and an extra-base hit at that. It had not been luck; he had truly squared the ball up. The pitch had not been right down the middle, but the fact that the opponent challenged him immediately with a fastball had been decisive. He had been ready to swing at anything in the zone, so a high heater or a sharp-diving splitter might have tied him up.
While I’m at it…
He had already won. By showing something against Park Haein, even if he started from the bench he would probably keep receiving at-bats. But the home fans cheering him so passionately, the teammates celebrating as if it were their own hit—he wanted the team to flatten the first-place club’s nose and walk away with the win.
CRACK—!
A perfectly diving splitter. Pinch-hitter Park Jisu managed to put it in fair territory, but the ball only slammed hard into the grass. It bounced once, twice, and rolled.
Kings third baseman Kim Jongbeom’s glove work was poor. The instant he tried to throw—
On the mound, Park Haein fought to keep his head from dropping, clinging to composure by sheer will.
“Hajun, nice!”
“Dude, how do you even swing at that first pitch?”
When Hajun returned to the dugout his teammates pounded him all over in celebration. The hero who had delivered the tying hit and then become the go-ahead runner was coming home; the reception was only natural.
“Guhhh.”
Hajun gulped a sports drink and caught his breath. The night air was already warm; the heat of the game made it feel even hotter.
“….”
When the Kings’ guardian angel had first taken the mound, when the Hawks had refused to pinch-hit for their newly acquired pinch-runner, not a single person had predicted this outcome.
Home fans boiling like a furnace. Visiting fans with dry, anxious lips. Kings pitching coach Lee Jaewon climbed the mound to settle Park Haein, and the game resumed.
The result was a three-pitch strikeout. Yet Park Haein’s expression remained dark after recording his first blown save of the season. He had never expected the inning to become this long and brutal.
“Good, good—let’s take it back.”
“We can do this.”
The kings’ grounded confidence. Both the Kings players and the passionate fans in the visiting section still expected a comeback.
Pop—!
“Strike three!”
But in the newly shifted current, Hawks closer Go Minjae stood firm.
On the very day no one expected anything from him, Lee Hajun joined the first team and the Daejeon Hawks toppled first-place Gwangju Kings while remaining in ninth. They also evened the season series against a team that had dominated them 15–1 the previous year. Even if they lost every remaining game to the Kings, it would no longer count as regression from last season.
“….”
But already the look in the players’ eyes was changing.
“Huh? Seungjin hyung’s doing the interview?”
“I figured it’d be Hajun.”
“Seungjin hyung was pretty damn good today, though.”
The broadcaster’s choice for the postgame interview was Yu Seungjin, who had thrown six scoreless innings of sparkling work. A few people had expected Lee Hajun—the decisive RBI and the dramatic story—but the decision was not unreasonable.
Will I ever stand in that spot someday?
Hajun pictured himself as the clear hero of the win, answering questions with quiet confidence.
“Lee Hajun, please get ready.”
“Sorry?”
“You’ll be doing an interview in a bit.”
“…Ah!”
At the club staffer’s words Hajun looked momentarily blank. He had forgotten for a second. It was a culture that existed with the Lakers as well: after the game, players who had performed well stayed on the field and took questions from the stadium announcer in front of the home fans. It never went on television, but it was still an important moment.
“….”
Hajun scratched the back of his head.
What am I supposed to say?
He had never practiced anything like this.