The Second Perfect Game
I climbed the mound again for the top of the ninth and calmly studied the opposing batter staring me down. You could see the iron focus in him—he was determined to reach base no matter what.
Me, on the other hand…
“Ah… I’m losing it.”
The conversation I’d just been having with Ko Mandeok in the dugout kept looping through my head, and I kept wanting to laugh. If I stood out here grinning by myself, they’d call me a lunatic again.
“Pfft!”
I had no choice. I covered my face with my glove and let a little of the laughter I’d been holding back slip out.
That damn car.
My concentration was shot thanks to Ko Mandeok whining that I should buy him a car instead of just settling for a watch.
“Hoo… Focus. Focus. Confidently~ Focus and stay confident~”
A few deep breaths finally settled my mind a little, and I took Ko Mandeok’s sign.
Thwack.
“Ball.”
Ah, shit…
Settling my mind, my ass. My command was garbage because my focus was gone.
“Ball.”
The second pitch was supposed to catch the outer edge of the zone, but it leaked just outside.
Two balls in a row.
Ko Mandeok finally seemed to notice something was off with me. He pressed both hands downward in a gesture that said calm down.
You know whose fault this is, right?
I nodded. He settled back into his crouch and flashed another sign…
Just bury the fastest heater right down the middle.
Wham!
“Stri~ke!”
So Yeong-seop looked devastated after taking that strike. Like he’d just let a golden opportunity slip away.
He seemed to think he’d missed a pitch he could have hit… Wanna see if you really can? I flipped the sign back to Ko Mandeok myself.
After a brief hesitation, Ko Mandeok quietly set his mitt.
High and inside on the batter.
Wham!
I finally felt completely locked in. The ball was going exactly where I wanted it.
Ko Mandeok flashed a changeup sign. I shook him off and sent my own sign back.
He quietly set the mitt again, agreeing.
Wham!
I’d done this before.
Last year, when I threw the league’s first perfect game, I’d closed out the ninth mostly with fastballs too.
All game today the ball had felt glued to my hand, so I’d thrown a ton of off-speed stuff instead of heaters. Especially the changeup—it was moving bigger than usual, and I’d had a blast working it.
But the ninth inning. With every fan in the stands on their feet cheering for my record, showing them something electric didn’t seem like a bad idea either.
Carving corners with sharp breaking balls and inducing whiffs was great, but wasn’t it more thrilling to just pin a hitter down with pure heat?
That’s how I saw it.
So.
I did exactly what I wanted.
And then the last one.
A pinch-hitter coming in left me with a weird feeling.
This wasn’t a guy you usually pinch-hit. He was the type who came in as a pinch-runner or defensive replacement, and now he was batting in a situation like this?
It was like if our team was about to get perfect-gamed and we suddenly sent Ju Yang-gyu up to hit—even with Jeong Jong-seong and other options available.
“No way… Come on, they wouldn’t.”
An absurd possibility flashed through my mind.
Apparently I wasn’t the only one thinking it.
Ko Mandeok yanked off his mask, stood up, and pulled the infield in. The outfield came in too.
“If you guys bunt here, you’re not even human.”
I was still half-doubting it when I started to deliver the first pitch. The batter’s bat laid flat across the zone.
They actually did it.
The silver lining was that Ko Mandeok had already adjusted the defense, and the sign he’d given me was set up for a bunt.
The ball left my hand and rocketed in on the batter’s hands.
He saw it and yanked the bat back in a hurry.
“Stri~ke!”
That bastard. He’d never planned to put it down in the first place.
The way he pulled the bat the instant the ball left my hand made that clear.
The first baseman and third baseman, who’d charged in at the sight of the bat, retreated to their positions.
Watching the batter’s setup, Ko Mandeok called for another pitch inside.
We should have been more careful here. That first-pitch bunt motion clearly hadn’t been a real attempt.
We should have asked ourselves why he’d given up a strike just to show that look.
But we must have been underestimating Cheon Jang-hyeon a little. The way we completely ignored his ability to swing told the story.
Ko Mandeok wanted another pitch jammed inside for the bunt, and I took it without thinking.
The defense was still playing in.
The moment the ball left my hand, I saw the batter’s front foot pull slightly back.
“Shit.”
Open hips. Short grip on the bat, already dropped below the shoulder.
He’d been perfectly set for the inside pitch.
Crack!
A white line seemed to scream straight at my feet.
And without thinking, my left hand moved toward it.
“Wooooooooaaaaah!!!!”
Ko Mandeok came charging toward the mound like a man possessed.
After the game, I had to endure something even rougher than the game itself.
It started with an interview that dragged on for nearly ten minutes. The announcers and broadcast crew had endless questions, and wringing out answers left my head throbbing.
When I finally made it back to the dugout, I had to survive the “congratulations” that were really just beatings and harassment from my teammates…
Somehow I got through that, showered, and stepped outside only to face the army of fans who’d been waiting for me.
“It’s past midnight… Does this make any sense?”
“Well, whose fault is it for throwing another perfect game?”
“…… Is that supposed to be a crime?”
“You’re asking the obvious.”
My fault for throwing a perfect game. What a novel conclusion, right?
“Ah~ whatever. I’m going to sleep. I’m only going for a late massage tomorrow, so don’t wake me up.”
“Got it~”
I’d steeled myself for a long sleep-in, but when I opened my eyes and checked the clock, it was the same time I always woke up.
The only difference from usual was that my body ached a little more.
“Ugh, I’m dying.”
“You threw a lot yesterday. What do you expect?”
“No. What came after was worse. I don’t even know how many autographs I signed. I think my wrist is gone.”
“You should’ve just done a few and bailed.”
“How? They were all waiting.”
“Sheesh… No technique at all. Eat something and go get that massage.”
While Ho-min and I were eating a late breakfast-slash-lunch and talking about this and that, the subject of Ko Mandeok came up.
The story of how he’d whined that I should buy him a car instead of a watch.
I’d expected an “are you kidding me?” reaction. Ho-min’s was different.
“How expensive a car is he asking for?”
“Huh?”
“Is he asking for some multi-hundred-million import, or just a decent domestic sedan?”
“…… I-I don’t know.”
“Honestly, this is the second one, right? So… it’s not that outrageous a request, is it?”
“R-really? Are watches that expensive?”
In an instant, Ho-min’s face shifted into the expression of someone looking at a kid who knew nothing about the world.
“You really don’t know anything. At least search it online. You’ll get a rough idea of the market.”
“H-hold on.”
And then I looked up the price range of those watches.
“…… Insane.”
The cheap ones started in the millions of won. But scroll a little further and you hit tens of millions. Hell, there were plenty in the hundreds of millions.
“What do people usually buy for a perfect game?”
“How would I know? But honestly, a pitcher good enough to throw a perfect game is making serious money. They’re not buying something cheap.”
“Ah…”
“A guy raking in huge money with no tax worries being stingy. Just buy him something as long as it’s not completely ridiculous.”
“…… It’s not your money.”
Suddenly a thought hit me.
If it was Ko Mandeok… that guy… he absolutely might demand something absurd.
Why did the image of Ko Mandeok cruising in a sports car with his girlfriend suddenly pop into my head?
Come to think of it…
“Hey. Instead of a watch, can you just buy me something else?”
“…… Like what?”
“A car!”
“What?”
“Dude. It’s the same money either way, right?”
“How expensive a car are you even asking for?”
“Don’t those watches usually cost tens of millions anyway?”
“…… Th-they’re that expensive?”
“You’re making bank! Is it too much? You cheap or something?”
That conversation had happened.
So he thought those watches normally cost tens of millions…
That was what Ko Mandeok believed?
“I think I’m completely screwed…”