I'm Not the Type to Get Excited That Easily
Our team racked up four straight wins right out of the gate.
Lee Yong-hun, who had bounced between fifth starter and long relief last year, took the mound as our fourth starter and turned in a quality start—six innings, three runs allowed.
At his core, Yong-hun was a four-seam guy. He could touch 150 km/h at his best and sat comfortably in the mid-to-upper 140s on average. Last season people already respected the heater, but the command was a little all over the place and he never really had a secondary pitch to back it up.
This year, though, he latched onto Marte the second the guy said he’d teach him a sinker. He dogged him for tips, finally got a few, and upgraded his own sinker. The result? In his first start of the season he rode the four-seam and the sinker to his first win. Command still wasn’t perfect, but it was more than good enough to play in this league.
The five-game streak, unfortunately, slipped away.
The coaching staff had hemmed and hawed over a few candidates right up to Opening Day before settling on twenty-seven-year-old No Geun-sik. He lasted 2.1 innings and gave up six runs. Walked a guy in the first, let him steal, then seemed to lose his head—three straight walks loaded the bases with nobody out. Holding them to three runs that inning was about the only silver lining.
He somehow escaped the first and looked like he might settle down. Gave up a single run on consecutive hits in the second, then got the next three outs cleanly. In the third, though, more free passes and a two-run double finished him. The guy who followed him worked 2.2 innings and allowed two more, so by the time the fifth was over we were down 3–8.
Five runs is still catchable, but with a weekend series still ahead you can’t burn the winning setup guys. Manager Park had to pick someone from the chase unit, and he went with Hwang Chan-young.
Chan-young had already thrown two scoreless innings for me in my start—even with a little traffic—and he looked just as sharp today. That lefty three-quarter curve that comes looping in from way out there kept hitters off balance, and he shut them down for another two clean frames.
Truth is, Chan-young had been in the mix for the fifth starter job. From what Taeseong hyung told me, the staff actually liked him better for consistency, but they valued experience more and went with Geun-sik. Looking at the difference between Chan-young’s two solid relief outings and Geun-sik’s every-inning-leaking start… if Geun-sik doesn’t show something next time out, Chan-young might get that starter shot sooner than later.
After taking the series from the Jaguars we came home for the weekend set against the Dolphins—the same club we’d faced once in spring training. They had Yoon Hyo-jung, who used to be ours, plus pitcher Choi Geun-ho and backup catcher Kim Do-gyeong.
Friday night, first game of the series, we got a look at their lineup and did a double take. Hyo-jung we expected. Do-gyeong starting? That was a surprise.
“Looks like Jang Seong-bae’s hurt,” Taeseong hyung said, passing along what he’d heard from their guys.
“Really? Just like that? Nothing even hit the papers.”
“Right before a series against us?”
“He played fine yesterday.”
“Even if he’s hurt… they’ve got Jang I-jun. Why Do-gyeong?”
Nobody could make sense of it. The Dolphins had Jang I-jun, a catcher good enough that other teams would hand him the starting job tomorrow. Putting Do-gyeong out there instead made zero sense.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Our captain strolled up, a thin smile on his face. “They think those guys know us too well because they spent so long here.”
We all knew that smile wasn’t friendly.
“It’s not even going to work. Just dumb posturing. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
The tone was nothing like the usual Seo Gyeongmin—full of pure sarcasm. He was smiling, but he was pissed. Most of the clubhouse felt the same way. And none of it was our fault.
For reasons none of us could figure, the three trade pieces were furious with us. They’d gotten themselves booted from camp for getting stupid drunk and then traded, yet somehow that was our problem.
Even so, Gyeongmin and a few of the other seniors had tried to approach them during spring training. What they heard back was that the three of them were bad-mouthing our whole team. Their story was that the players had ganged up and iced them out, that nobody protected them. Like that even made sense.
The most ridiculous part? I was on their little list of villains. The night the coaches had okayed drinking, Jo Sangjun had looked out for a few of us—including me—and kept us from getting dragged along against our will. They were still holding that against him. What, was Sangjun supposed to babysit them too so they couldn’t drink?
We only found all this out after spring training wrapped. Gyeongmin and Sangjun had known earlier and kept quiet until it somehow leaked. If I’d known sooner… I wouldn’t have just brushed Hyo-jung back in the exhibition games. I would’ve drilled him for real.
So the mood was already ugly, and then they trot Do-gyeong out there like a deliberate shot at us. Irritation boiled over.
A little later we got news that pushed us past irritation into pure disbelief.
“Sunday starter?”
“That’s what they’re saying. Could change, but right now it’s him.”
“Ha! Unbelievable…”
Sunday—the day I was scheduled to start—Choi Geun-ho was apparently lined up for them. Ko Mandeok came sprinting over with the news like his hair was on fire.
So all three of the guys we traded away were going to face us this weekend?
At that point you had to be willfully blind not to notice something was off.
“What the hell are they thinking? Are they actually trying to pick a fight?”
“Kinda feels that way.”
“I don’t get it.”
The very reasonable suspicion was that the Dolphins’ manager was straight-up calling us out.
One question still bothered me.
“Why Sunday, though?”
“Well…”
“What?”
“Today and tomorrow they’ve got their foreign starters going…”
“…”
“No reason to mess with the foreigners, right?”
“And me?”
“…Honestly, your temper’s a little…”
“My temper?”
“It’s dirty, isn’t it? You’ve already done it before.”
That was ridiculous.
“…I’m not following.”
“If they poke you a little, you might get hot first… and fall apart…”
“They’re running a whole strategy on a guess with zero proof?”
“That’s just my take. My take. You know their manager’s kind of… petty.”
“…”
“So if they try to get under your skin that day, just let it roll off. Don’t play along.”
“I will.”
Mandeok patted my shoulder like he was worried I was already boiling. He thought I was angry. I wasn’t. Just baffled.
“I’m not the type to get excited that easily. What are they even counting on?”
“……??”
Mandeok gave a little head shake, shot me a weird look, and walked off.
Why wouldn’t he believe me? It’s true…
Friday’s game—both teams’ aces—ended in a complete win for Michael Len. He threw seven scoreless, Jo Sangjun erased the eighth, and Kang Chanjung came in and finished it with pure fury on every pitch.
Chanjung had his own beef with the Dolphins. They’d been his only club since debut, and with one year left before free agency they shipped him out without a second thought. He’d even dreamed of becoming a Dolphins franchise guy. Betrayal doesn’t get much cleaner than that.
Maybe that was why his stuff tonight was terrifying. He kept burying cutters on the hands like he was daring them to hit it, and the hitters just kept bailing out on their own.
Saturday turned into another pitchers’ duel. Marte gave up a solo shot in the first and trailed 1–0 through five before Ko Mandeok’s first homer of the year—a two-run shot—flipped the lead. Both starters lasted into the seventh. Then, same as Friday, Sangjun and Chanjung came on back-to-back and closed it out by a single run.
For all our anger, Do-gyeong started Friday but got pulled the same time their starter did after the repeated scoring. Saturday he didn’t even appear.
And then…
“They’re sniping us. Straight-up sniping.”
Sunday he was back. Starter Choi Geun-ho. Catcher Kim Do-gyeong. Sixth hitter, DH Yoon Hyo-jung. The full trade trio, all present and accounted for.
“What now? Looks like Sangjun hyung and Chanjung hyung aren’t available today either.”
“…I’ll just go the distance.”
“Yeah. That’ll do it. Simple, right? Heh.”
“What’s hard about it?”
“Exactly. They might be targeting you, but as long as you don’t take the bait… heh.”
“…I told you I’m not getting mad.”
“Wonder how they’re gonna play it…”
Yeah. I was curious too. What exactly were they planning, rolling out the whole squad for my start?
“By the way, you seem to have a lot of teams that hate your guts.”
“Besides the Dragons and these guys, who else?”
“Two out of nine is plenty. Oh—wait. Last time with the Dragons, the bench-clearing… that wasn’t me, right?”
“Ah… right.”
“Shit. They’re not going for my head again, are they? That’d set you off for real.”
Kim Do-gyeong had been right there the last time I lost it. He’d put the mask on after Mandeok and tried to calm me down. Failed spectacularly.
“N-no way. He’d have to have a death wish.”
Do-gyeong knew better than anyone how I’d paid them back. No chance.
“Yeah. They’re not that stupid.”
Still, a little unease crept in.
They wouldn’t… right?
If they even looked like they were about to try something like that—or anything close—
“Then they better be ready to get their heads caved in.”
Mandeok’s mouth fell open. I didn’t care. I’d already decided I was going full psycho if I had to.