The Japan Match
The group stage was over.
Honestly, the results had been pretty uneventful. The teams that were supposed to advance did so without any real upsets.
In Group B, where we were placed, Korea with three wins and Taiwan with two wins and one loss advanced to the next round. As for Group A… well, it was Japan and China. Japan casually swept three wins, while China, though they lost to Japan, managed two wins and one loss—doing what they needed to do.
Now it was the Super Round.
We started with one win already banked from beating Taiwan in the group stage, and Japan with one from beating China. Naturally, Taiwan and China began with a loss each.
But then an upset happened. Taiwan pulled off a massive comeback win against Japan, snatching a victory. Japan had been leading through the eighth inning, got cocky, and suffered a reverse defeat.
"Things are going pretty well."
The situation was completely different from the previous international tournament—the Olympics. Unlike those consecutive disasters, this Asian Games had been a smooth ride of victories so far. And luck was on our side too.
We faced China next. The starter for the China game was Ki Chan-su, whom I hadn't seen in a while. He had completely bombed at the Olympics, but in the league he had been steadily improving, and today he took the mound.
"His two-seamer hits 153 now?"
"Yeah. It's closer to a sinker than a two-seamer, if you ask me, but he calls it a two-seamer so…"
Ki Chan-su was a sidearm pitcher. I was used to seeing 100 mph every other day in the majors these days, but a sidearmer throwing a two-seamer—or sinker—at 153 km/h was more than enough to terrorize hitters.
"He's grown a lot."
It felt like only yesterday that Min Gucheol had him throwing brushback pitches at me and hanging his head afterward.
The China game went relatively clean. Ki Chan-su shut them out for four innings before a fingernail issue briefly put him in trouble, but Hyeon-bin came on next and erased two innings without a hitch. The pitchers who followed gave up a couple of random long balls for two runs, but that was it.
On offense, the heart of the order—me, Jo In-beom, and Chae Jin-hak, who had been billed as Lee Gijun's successor—kept swinging freely and plated runs with relative ease. Jo In-beom especially smashed two home runs today, looking every bit the weak-team killer. I managed one myself, but two was hard to beat…
The next day, the earlier Taiwan-China game went exactly as expected—Taiwan took it comfortably. That created a problem.
Korea sat at two wins and was the heavy favorite to reach the final. Even if we lost today's game, three teams would sit at 2-1 and we'd have to start calculating… but we had swept all three group-stage games by mercy rule, putting us well ahead of the others on run differential.
That made Taiwan the biggest concern. They had suffered a seventh-inning mercy-rule loss to us in the group stage. Japan, meanwhile, had come out of the group stage with three wins. If Japan won this game, Taiwan was packing their bags without a second thought.
Of course, if we won, none of that complicated math mattered. Korea with three wins in first, Taiwan with 2-1 in second—clean path to the final.
"You're starting the final, right, hyung?"
"Probably."
Even I expected that. But national team manager Oh Jeong-geun apparently had other ideas.
In the Asian Games there was no real need to announce the starting pitcher. But Manager Oh Jeong-geun had blurted it out during the post-China interview, almost as if daring them to prepare for it.
"Don't they usually tell the guy involved first?"
I hadn't heard a single word about it. Not that it mattered. Every pitcher on the roster was always ready to take the ball at a moment's notice.
"Hehehehe."
"What?"
"Nothing. Just reading the translated Japanese articles. They're hilarious."
"What do they say?"
"They're calling it a major crisis. Korea called in the Emperor to knock Japan out. Hehehe."
"Crazy bastards. Who's the Emperor?"
They sure loved slapping embarrassing nicknames on people.
"Hyung, how are you going to pitch tomorrow?"
"…What kind of question is that? I'll figure it out."
"Really? Just like the old days?"
"Of course I will…"
He was even trying to make me call the pitch sequences. Annoying.
"Is this Korea or Qatar?"
Was it just me, or did the stands look like nothing but Korean flags? From what I could tell, even the Taiwanese fans had shown up to cheer for us. A few Japanese rising-sun circles dotted the crowd here and there, but the Taegeukgi outnumbered them by a huge margin.
And it wasn't just the flags. The moment I stepped out of the dugout toward the mound for the top of the first, a massive roar hit me—like I was walking out in a home stadium. I dipped my head in a small bow of thanks for the warm welcome, then casually tossed a few warm-up pitches.
"Play ball."
The leadoff hitter walked toward the box. Lean frame, bat choked up short. I could tell his type at a glance.
Looks like he wants to slap something soft and bolt for first…
That only works if you actually put the ball in play first.
THWACK!!
"…Strike!"
""""Wooooooooo…""""
THWACK!
"Strike!"
THWACK!
"Strike three! Out!"
Choking up doesn't magically make you able to hit it, kid.
Broadcast Commentary
Kang Hajin freezes the first batter with three four-seam fastballs for the strikeout! This is World Series MVP, Cy Young Award winner pitching!
All three clocks at 105 mph—nearly 170 km/h—and the command is there too. You don't just decide you want to hit that pitch and hit it!
Look at the batter sticking his tongue out. That face says, "What the hell is this?"
And the late life on Kang Hajin's fastball is ridiculous, right? Of course he's stunned. He's never seen anything like it.
The second batter goes down on strikes as well! This time it's all sliders—four of them for the punch-out!
Kang Hajin throws two kinds of slider, horizontal and vertical. The batter could barely keep the bat on the same plane.
Four-seamers only to the first guy, sliders only to the second. That wasn't random.
He's putting on a show. This is what an active major-league Cy Young winner throws. Go ahead—try to hit it.
…Yeah.
Ogura Ryozo is due up soon. He did that interview the other day—said he could handle it, that he would definitely take him down.
Exactly. That interview happened.
This feels like a direct answer. "You think you can handle this? I'm throwing this stuff."
Kang Hajin finishes the top of the first with a third straight strikeout. Three punch-outs to open the game, just like that.
This time he showed only the big-breaking stuff—curve, splitter, and changeup.
Kang Hajin's changeup is different, isn't it?
Right. Over there they call it something like a screwball that doesn't exist anymore.
Actually, I spoke with Kang Hajin before today's game.
Oh! Of course—Seo Ui-won, closer to him than anyone. Can you share what he said?
Well… Kang Hajin said… he was going to end today's game by mercy rule…
……
"…He said what?"
"He said he was going to finish it in the fifth today. Ho-min probably said it on the broadcast."
"Did you eat something weird?"
I hadn't eaten anything weird, but I had eaten something.
The last remaining Booster.
I always end up agonizing over these. I hesitated a long time before taking it this time too. Honestly, there was zero reason to use one in a game like this. It felt almost wasteful.
The reason I still took it… was because I saw those two faces.
What was his name again? Right—Shoda Hiroki. The guy who got his cheek thoroughly rearranged by me last time. He showed up at the ballpark hanging around with that Ogura Ryozo character. Friends, apparently.
If that had been the end of it I might have let it go, but the bastard pointed a finger my way and then had the nerve to smirk.
Those pieces of trash…
That decided it. I was going to make sure that every time they thought about today's game, tears would start pouring down their faces.
There would be aftereffects, sure, but tomorrow I only needed to stand in the batter's box… it would be a little rough, but stepping into the box was doable. So I downed it clean.
One out, runner on first.
A soft grounder had snuck through for an infield hit, putting a runner in front of me. Once again I was batting third today.
No greetings this time. I planned to make this as painful as possible—no need for polite hellos…
"Here comes the first one~"
A two-seamer diving fearlessly inside.
CRAAAAACK!!!
CLANG!
Kang Hajin smashes a massive home run off the scoreboard on the very first pitch of his first at-bat! Score is 2–0! Korea takes the lead in the bottom of the first!