Chapter 92: Tae-woong?
Tae-woong had already taken the mound and stepped down five times today alone. And now, even though it was his turn to climb up for the sixth time, the Eagles batters hadn't managed to scrape together a single run against the Wyverns' pitching staff.
Today it's shaping up like another pitchers' duel? What rotten luck.
He felt like the games where he pitched always had especially scant run support, but he knew full well that this was partly down to luck—and just part of baseball.
All I can do is block with everything I've got. If we still lose... then that's fate.
Tae-woong decided not to resent his teammates, who hadn't allowed a single run either. He'd learned the hard way from scraping the bottom of the barrel that baseball didn't always go according to plan.
- Kim Kang-hyun comes off after shutting out the Eagles over 5.1 scoreless innings. Park Jung-bae now takes the mound for the Wyverns.
- Park Jung-bae leads with a heavy four-seam fastball clocking around 144 km/h, backed by a slider and forkball. He struggled with command on his breaking stuff for a while, but lately his forkball's been dropping nicely.
- They say when Park Jung-bae's forkball is on, it just vanishes from the batters' sight.
Crack!
- Oh, Yang Sang-woo lightly pushes the first-pitch forkball! It drops in front of the left fielder!
- Reverse curse on Yang Sang-woo! Look at that. He casually flares a forkball dropping off the outer edge for a hit. Yang Sang-woo plays the game so well.
In the top of the 6th, right after Kim Kang-hyun, reliever Park Jung-bae surrendered a single to the Eagles' seventh hitter, Yang Sang-woo, the moment he took the mound.
Unlike Ace's snark, Tae-woong's words rang true. Park Jung-bae showed perfect forkballs to the follow-up hitters Ha Jun-seok and Choi Ji-hoon, racking up two quick outs without letting the run score.
Weird things had been happening for two hours now—even hits and walks weren't turning into runs crossing the plate.
Tae-woong and Ace, watching it unfold, felt the frustration too.
Tae-woong just nodded at Ace's words.
On Tuesday, he'd gone nine innings allowing just one run for the complete-game win. That wasn't a huge pitch count for nine frames—actually on the low side—but he'd still thrown over 100.
He'd been consistent with weight training and running to build strength and legs, but stamina was still a weak point.
He could gut it out to the end right now if he had to. But the fatigue would come back to bite him soon enough as injury or slump.
Plus, Manager Han Young-deok and pitching coach Song Jun-woo had pulled him aside two hours before game time and tipped him off: they'd yank him around 95 pitches, innings be damned.
I threw 73 through five... If I pitch efficiently this inning, maybe I can stretch to the seventh.
About 20 pitches left. He couldn't responsibly go to the eighth without finding a four-leaf clover on the way to the mound, but seven looked doable.
Three pitches max per batter? Tough... but it'll work itself out.
It'd be a grind, but he wasn't about to quit before trying.
Now it was the Eagles' turn to field. Heading to the mound, Tae-woong muttered behind his glove.
"Alright. Light and easy—ten pitches per inning. I can do it!"
Bottom of the sixth, leadoff hitter: No. 2 Han Dong-man.
Back already? Good to see ya.
Nothing more to say. He'd whiffed on three pitches each of his first two at-bats, flailing wildly at curves and high fastballs.
And again this time!
The Eagles battery went outer-half curve first pitch.
Whoosh! Swish! Strike on the whiff. 0-1.
Second pitch, curve inside. Whoosh! Swish!
No breather—the relentless curves wrecked Han Dong-man's balance like clockwork. His eyes screamed overthinking, and even on a mild day, sweat soaked his hair like he'd been dunked when he doffed his helmet.
Tae-woong would be his nightmare after today.
Probably the last time I face Han Dong-man today. So...
Tae-woong seized the moment. No injuries or slumps, and he'd stay in the rotation. By his math, they'd face the SA Wyverns twice more before the first half ended.
Might as well seal the deal now. He looks hooked on curves, but Han Dong-man's still a lefty masher who can hit .300/20+ HR.
Tae-woong planned to burn that curve into his brain. He ignored catcher Choi Ji-hoon's changeup call and demanded another curve.
Three straight curves from the first pitch. Different locations, though.
Same pitch same spot three times? That's begging for a homer. But same pitch alternating inside-outside? Different story.
Han Dong-man had average plate discipline, but video scouting showed those tricks wouldn't fool him.
Outside, inside. Then back inside to finish.
Choi Ji-hoon shifted right, crowding Han Dong-man, mitt out by the lefty batter's front left knee.
Whoosh!
Too late—he saw the ball screaming for his head. Starting too far out, it never entered the lefty's sightline.
He'd rewatched Tae-woong's footage hundreds of times and knew the command was elite. But no time to judge.
Slow at 100 km/h or not, a direct headshot hurts—and leaves aftereffects.
Instinctively, Han Dong-man ducked to protect his dome. Too late—the ball dropped into the zone.
He wanted to argue, but he'd flinched in fear.
Damn... that filthy curve.
Thwack!
"Strike three!"
Han Dong-man took the booming call and slunk away on a looking K. No regrets—he'd seen the curve drop through the zone with his own eyes.
Just pathetic, passing the baton without helping the team.
He bit his lip hard and left the box.
There are no draws in pitcher-batter matchups. One wins, the other loses.
That'd held since baseball's birth right up to Tae-woong on the mound now.
Three straight curves had Han Dong-man's mentality on the brink. Tae-woong saved pitches, nabbed the out easy, and grinned at the situation he'd waited for.
- No. 3 hitter Choi Jun! Fans, give him a roaring welcome!
"Choi! Jun! Home! Run!"
"Fighting!"
The Wyverns cheerleader's intro echoed through Munhak Stadium, fans cheering behind.
A pitcher might tense for the heart of the order, but Tae-woong loved it. Like Bear Grylls turning a desert rattlesnake into protein.
"Seven straight righties again? Power-hitting ones at that? Dangerous for pitchers, sure. But it's dinner time now."
Changeup's turn to feast again.
- Seo Tae-woong turns leadoff Han Dong-man around with back-to-back curves and now faces Choi Jun.
- He's smiling—no tension there. Muttering to himself, lips moving too fast to read.
- As expected from young Tae-woong. That kid's got guts. A twenty-year-old acting that cool? Means the Eagles' team vibe is top-notch. That's how I can say it.
Tae-woong's curve usage against righties all game barely topped 20%, two-seamer around 10%. Zero sliders.
No need for sliders when he had a slower but higher-spin, bigger-drop curve. No backdoor or in-tight sliders required against righties.
His big two: 40% four-seam, 30% changeup.
30% meant three-of-ten. After two ugly at-bats in front of the home crowd, No. 3 Choi Jun came up hunting that changeup on his third plate appearance first pitch.
Crack!
- He pushes a dropping outer-half pitch lightly! Well-struck, drops in front of right field! No. 3 Choi Jun gets his first hit of the day and on base!
- Saw that low bat path—hunting changeup from the first pitch. Even aiming for it, the drop forced him to wrist it up barely.
- Watching Seo Tae-woong's changeup close-up, it reminds me of Noo-hwan who's floating pitches in LA Dodgers now? Eagles have a lefty with killer change and curve. I've said it before, but a kid that young mastering those pitches ain't easy. Takes infrastructure to develop young stars like...
Tae-woong shrugged off the ribbing. Better to get it over with one pitch if it was coming anyway.
And plenty of time to atone.
Sixth inning, no outs, runner on first. Wyverns' cleanup hitter Ro-mal stepped up—another homer king candidate alongside Choi Jun from earlier single. But not a "empty threat" hacker; he boasted a .400 OBP with sharp eyes, power and precision in one.
Choi Jun's legit 30 HR threat, now Ro-mal... And Han Dong-man and Kim Dong-young around them do 20+ easy. No wonder the vets groan facing this stretch.
Wyverns' 3-4 with Choi Jun and Ro-mal was a quagmire pitchers couldn't escape. Scary alone, terrifying back-to-back.
But Tae-woong? Zero tension.