After the Yankees Sweep
The Yankees sweep brought our team enormous benefits.
More than anything else, it was the suddenly expanded lead in the standings. The Yankees had seemed like they would never drop, yet after getting swept by us they were no longer chasing first place. Now they had to focus on holding onto second.
Tampa Bay, who had been lurking in third and waiting for their chance, had closed the gap to just one game. While we completed the sweep, Tampa Bay took a winning series of their own and now had second place right in their sights.
That meant we suddenly had some breathing room. The Yankees, on the other hand… every single game from here on out was going to be exhausting.
And then there was Eric, who had become the hero in the final game of that three-game set. Eric, whose hands had been trembling after hitting that grand slam in extras.
That game seemed to flip a switch in him, and he went completely berserk.
In the next game—where he wore the catcher’s mask in place of Gordon Perry, who had started all three against the Yankees—he smashed two home runs and shocked everyone. He even clumsily tried to copy my bat flip and nearly started a brawl.
Seeing that hitting form, Grandpa Manager must have sensed something, because in the following game—one I couldn’t pitch—he put Eric in as the designated hitter. And Eric went 3-for-3 including another home run, completely flipping the previous evaluation that he was great defensively but a bit lacking at the plate.
It continued after that. Even in my starts, every time he stepped into the box he got on base, and so he kept earning more playing time. His low batting average skyrocketed thanks to the small sample size, and now he was on the verge of .300.
Of course hot streaks don’t last forever… but no one could deny that right now, Eric had the hottest bat on our team.
Eric didn’t waste the situation. He knew opportunities like this might not come again easily, and he threw himself into training even harder than before. Naturally, Grandpa Manager was delighted by the sight.
“What about Ernie…”
Ernie Witt, whose at-bats had been cut in half because of me. With Eric suddenly rising, his opportunities dwindled even further. This guy was a real hard worker too. Maybe that was why he was focusing even more intensely on left-field defense drills lately. He seemed to think that the only path left for him was to claim the left-field spot.
When I first took the DH spot he still seemed okay… but with Eric emerging as well, he was starting to look anxious.
Watching Ernie Witt like that, Marlon Gates—who held the left-field position—was also training like a madman these days.
Grandpa Manager and the coaches watched this whole situation with great satisfaction. And Gordon Perry. He really liked the training fever created by Eric’s sudden awakening. Especially seeing players voluntarily coming to the stadium on rest days and working their bodies, he looked impressed.
The hitters had entered this competitive atmosphere… so what about the pitchers?
“These bastards… this is why iron rice bowls are scary.”
The pitching side was doing well lately too. The one-two-three starters of Rondo, me, and Joe Greinsky were posting the best numbers among American League rotations. Joe Greinsky, who had been shaky early in the season, was gradually finding his feel and was completely locked in these days. The fourth and fifth starters behind them weren’t collapsing easily either and were doing their jobs.
And our winning setup bullpen. The relief corps of Buxton, Yua, and Biggio was looking almost like an iron wall.
So was everything fine?
No…
Originally our team’s winning setup guys weren’t those three. Kyle Biggio had been the closer from the start, but the other two were trade acquisitions. So what about the guys who were there before? They had been demoted to the chasing group.
They were the problem. They were better pitchers than anyone we could call up from the minors. Even if people called them lacking, they were still guys who had pitched the late innings of winning games for the Red Sox. Call them lacking all you want—they had a certain level of skill.
These guys had been quiet ever since I first arrived. At first I even wondered if they were keeping their heads down because of Gordon Perry or Eun-hyung’s pressure… but living with them, I got it.
They just didn’t care. Unlike other players, they made zero effort to shore up their weaknesses. They showed up to the training ground reluctantly, finished the prescribed workouts, and then bolted like someone might catch them. I heard that even outside they only hung out among themselves. No wonder they didn’t say much when their roles changed at first.
These guys… just wanted to throw moderately and collect a moderate salary. Should I be glad that at least by sticking together they weren’t ruining the atmosphere? No… if they did, Gordon Perry would fold their spines.
“Just like someone I know?”
“What?”
“Someone used to live like that back in the day… no, wait. That someone even faked injuries because he didn’t want to throw a lot, right?”
······
Fuck.
Come to think of it, it was similar to me back in the Dragons days.
“No, back then it was because of that old man—I was resentful…”
“Did I say it was you?”
“You little…”
I cussed Ho-min out thoroughly for teasing me, but honestly it stung a bit. Back then I had almost completely lost interest in baseball and found everything annoying. Naturally I didn’t care about team results or game outcomes. But looking at those guys now, imagining what I must have looked like back then was dizzying.
I was looking down on them as pathetic… yet what did others think when they saw me deliberately taking hits while counting my pitch count? Of course almost no one knew I was setting pitch counts and throwing that way.
“Taeseong hyung was an amazing guy.”
Taeseong hyung, who had helped me to the end. I was already grateful, but the gratitude grew even more.
“Say that while actually contacting him.”
······
Guys don’t contact each other that often.
I analyzed the next start’s opposing team with Gordon Perry and Eric. Ever since my relationship with Gordon Perry improved, we had started having these analysis sessions together… and something I learned from these times was that the two of them had different tendencies.
Gordon Perry preferred leveraging the pitcher’s strengths over exploiting the batter’s weaknesses. That was why the game tempo sped up when he was catching—it wasn’t for no reason. He already knew exactly what the pitcher he was working with was good at, so decisions came instantly.
Eric, on the other hand, enjoyed toying with the hitters more than the pitcher. There was a reason this guy made me throw every single pitch type from the start. He wanted to make the opposing hitters flustered with that.
Of course Gordon Perry also tore into hitters’ weaknesses, and Eric also played to the pitcher’s strengths. It was just a slight difference in what they prioritized. They had similarities too—both attacked the zone boldly. Eric only with me, but still.
If I had to say which was better… honestly it was hard to decide. I had worked with batteries like this in Korea too. Eric was similar to Ko Mandeok’s type, and Gordon Perry—though the skill gap was incomparable—had a similar tendency to Jeong Jong-seong if you looked only at inclination.
Back to it. These two tended to have slightly differing opinions during analysis. Especially when it came to which opposing hitters to be careful of, they almost always disagreed. Gordon Perry usually won, though.
But today, for the first time in a long while, their opinions matched perfectly. From start to finish.
“Two-seamer, huh…”
“Your pitch count has been climbing lately. That means the opponents are gradually adapting to your four-seamer. Looking at how much the foul-ball rate has increased.”
“Kang. Your two-seamer… no matter how I look at it it seems like a sinker, but anyway, we need to use that two-seamer more actively. Is there a particular reason you’re not using it?”
No. Nothing like that. I just preferred the faster ball a bit more. Maybe because of the memories of scraping by with slow stuff in the past, smashing it in hard felt so good…
“There’s absolutely no reason to save a two-seamer that can touch nearly a hundred miles an hour. It’s too wasteful.”
“Yeah. Just throwing two-seamer, slider, and curve would leave the Texas hitters reeling. Mixing in a changeup here and there would be even better.”
······ I see.
Every time this happened, how should I put it… a little empty? I had become able to throw everything, yet just three or four pitches were enough. Things I had wanted so badly to throw when my velocity was low but couldn’t… now that I could throw them, they said I didn’t need them.
“Eric. Especially this game, you’ll need to use the zone well. Actively utilize Kang’s command.”
“I always do…”
Eric started to argue but wilted under Gordon Perry’s gaze and lowered his voice. It was always like this. They would argue hard, but it always ended with Gordon Perry’s look.
By the way, what did “actively utilize the command” even mean?
“You can never be honest against those Texas bastards who are crazy for home runs.”
“…I know that much.”
“So what the hell does that mean?”
Put it in the zone then take it out or something? I do that a bit too.
“Yeah. You’ve experienced a lot now, so you’ll be able to do it well.”
“Th-thank you. Hehe.”
Hey, you guys. What the hell are you talking about!