A Honey Pot Lineup
As Han Dong-man trudged back to the dugout, the third batter, Choi Jun, stepped up to the plate. If you had to name the KBO's top hitter right now, it was undoubtedly Choi Jun—he'd been putting on a clinic all season. But Seo Tae-woong, facing the league's best, didn't look tense at all. If anything, a faint smile played on his lips, the kind that could be mistaken for a nervous giggle if you didn't know better.
But Tae-woong was genuinely thrilled.
"Third through ninth are all right-handed... What a honey pot, a total honey pot."
What kinda honey pot bullshit is that? Kid needs a wasp sting to snap out of it.
The Wyverns' lineup consisted entirely of right-handed hitters from the third spot through ninth, excluding their table-setters, leadoff No Su-gang and second-spot Han Dong-man. And the nine starters in their everyday lineup? They all struggled against changeups, regardless of left or right, putting up weak at-bats every time.
That was exactly why Tae-woong was grinning ear to ear.
"Means I can throw changeups to my heart's content today."
In the past, his heart would've been pounding like it was about to burst. But right now, laser-focused solely on the duel with the batter, everything felt calmer than ever.
The catcher flashed the sign. First pitch to this righty he'd never faced: a changeup low and away.
Whoosh!
Thwump!
Smack!
Choi Jun, the big slugger, whiffed hard, slicing empty air as Tae-woong's pitch settled into the catcher's mitt.
* * *
'No wonder his numbers are so good. Getting fooled myself, it's ridiculous.'
Choi Jun had given up a first-pitch strike on a whiff to that changeup, and he had to tip his cap to Seo Tae-woong. When he'd picked up the trajectory, it looked for all the world like a four-seam fastball hanging low and away. Like every hitter, he'd zeroed in on that spot in a split second and swung for it.
'And I fell for it hook, line, and sinker...'
It wasn't until his bat was already turning that he realized the ball was dropping. He'd watched the table-setters get retired in practice at-bats, and now, fooled perfectly by this one changeup, he could gauge the pitcher's level pretty well.
'But a changeup right out the gate? Ballsy.'
Of course, that lanky rookie pitcher knew Choi Jun struggled against lefty changeups.
'Fastball this time?'
Whoosh!
The second pitch sailed in from way outside, slow and lazy into the zone.
'Curve.'
Smack!
"Striiike!"
To the righty Choi Jun, it looked like it might've caught the corner from way out there, but the ump called strike. Not the four-seam he'd been hunting—instead, a big-breaking curve at least 25 km/h slower.
This time, he couldn't even offer.
The third was a four-seam up and away that tailed off a bit high. He'd aimed for high heat, but it slipped out of his hand.
'If it'd been just a tad lower, I might've chased...'
The trajectory from that second-pitch curve and this high-away fastball? Nearly identical.
'Count's 1-2... He's aggressive, so he'll try to pound the zone. Curve, or fastball.'
Thankfully, the curve stood out from Tae-woong's other stuff.
'Stands out, sure. But if you're not sitting on it, good luck hitting it.'
Preparations complete.
Thwump!
Max velocity up by 0.5 km/h.
Current max velocity: 129.5 km/h.
Whiff on the low-dipping fourth pitch! Seo Tae-woong strikes out the third batter Choi Jun on four pitches!
LOL! Three K's to wrap the first inning scoreless!
Just as Kim Kang-hyun had set down the Eagles 1-2-3 in the top of the first, Tae-woong mirrored him perfectly. The difference? Kim Kang-hyun led with heavy four-seam heat topping 150 km/h and a 138 km/h slider, while Tae-woong relied on slower stuff—even slower than that slider—mixing four-seam fastballs, changeups, and curves.
Through three full innings, neither lineup scored a run.
But in the top of the fourth, with two outs, the Eagles' cleanup hitter Gerard Hoy—facing Kim Kang-hyun for the second time—laid off a hanging slider that had started to feel familiar, poking it into a double.
Crack!
Not fooled by the breaking ball tailing away! Hoy pokes it the opposite way!
That was a 134 km/h slider, hanging a bit high.
The Eagles had a shot with Hoy's double, but the next man, Kim Tae-gun, flied out to the outfield with two outs and a runner on second, squandering the chance.
Not that it was a total whiff.
Wyverns starter Kim Kang-hyun hits 151 km/h today, escaping two outs, runner on second!
But after four innings, he's at 83 pitches already—a bit high.
* * *
Whoosh!
Thwump!
Smack!
Max velocity up by 0.5 km/h.
Current max velocity: 133 km/h.
In the bottom of the fifth, Tae-woong notched the final out with a whiff K and headed to the dugout. Over five innings, he'd racked up a whopping 10 strikeouts. His max velocity had climbed from 128 km/h to 133 km/h, letting him dot four-seamers consistently over 130.
The tunneling—changeups dropping like fastballs before plummeting—was pure poison for the Wyverns' uppercut swings. Every batter who'd faced him had bitten so far.
Ace, baffled by their approach, even floated a conspiracy theory.
You think they get fined for not swinging? Why's everyone flailing like idiots?
Ace: You think they get fined for not swinging? Why's everyone flailing like idiots?
Seo Tae-woong: Can't face reality again, huh...
Learn a cut fastball, two-seamer, or slider, and you're unhittable. League's too weak.
Seo Tae-woong: True that.
Having spent time in the minors, Tae-woong knew league disparities inside out.
Seo Tae-woong: My take's biased, but KBO's Double-A at best, generously. A few A-ball guys here hit Triple-A; the odd superstar might sniff MLB.
Hmm... Close enough. So where do you stack up?
Ace's question got a cocky reply from Tae-woong.
Seo Tae-woong: Me? I could probably dip a pinky toe in MLB right now.
Pfft, big dreams, punk.
* * *
The Eagles hitters facing Kim Kang-hyun's 150+ km/h four-seam and slider all shared the same thought: How the hell do you hit this?
So what were the Wyverns thinking against Tae-woong's stuff? Their dugout chatter said it all.
"Fuck! Why can't I time it? Delay and it speeds up; early and it's slo-mo... Shit."
"Analysis showed complex pitch mixes. But today it's curve-high fastball or low four-seam-changeup on repeat. Way tougher."
"Can't read his arsenal at all."
"You too? Two changeups, whiff whiff. Hold off, boom 131 km/h four-seam looking K. We lose today, I'm eating all the shit."
"Changeup's insane. Videos didn't move like this..."
"Nah, the curve'll make you lose it. 100 km/h overhead, drops belt-low—no clue where to swing."
These were the guys who'd exploded for runs in all five games this week, and they couldn't wrap their heads around mistiming slow stuff. Or rather, they didn't want to. Getting owned by a rookie rookie stung their pride.
Still, they weren't sleeping on him. A few hitters and the hitting coach huddled, sharing at-bat intel to crack him.
The Wyverns dugout buzzed.
"Different from Woo Hee-gang. His zone's outside-low; ump misses it, he's toast. This guy's stabbing the zone with junk."
Small mercy for the Eagles: In the top of the sixth, after retiring the leadoff, Kim Kang-hyun's pitching coach grabbed the ball from the ump and headed to the mound.
But the Wyverns? Still suffering.
Wyverns starter Kim Kang-hyun exits after first out top sixth. 5.1 scoreless, 101 pitches!
Whoosh!
Crack!
Texas Leaguer drops perfectly in front of left! Yang Sang-woo notches his first hit.
Thwump!
Whiffs big on the breaking ball! Ha Jun-seok chases the low dropper!
Crack!
Foul off the end! Third baseman Choi Jun fields and fires to first! Ball beats the runner!
Alas, not even the new pitcher could muster a run.
"Haa..."
In the corner of the dugout, manager Han Young-deok let out a quiet sigh, bummed at blowing the opportunity.