The Last of April
My smooth start after switching to the starting rotation had generated quite a few articles.
Through the first two games the results had been solid, but a little doubt lingered about whether I could truly shoulder long innings. This outing wiped that clean away.
And for reasons I still didn't fully understand, I drew a lot of praise for leaning on the knuckleball through the final inning. Probably because it was a pitching combination no one had seen much of before.
Our team took the next day's game as well. Surprisingly, Lee Yong-hun threw the game of his life—seven scoreless innings. Jeong Jong-seong's aggressive sinker-heavy lead worked perfectly, and Lee Yong-hun was simply on fire. With that win, we climbed into first place.
The lingering problem of our fifth starter spot went to Hwang Chan-young for the time being. Making his first start in place of the struggling No Geun-sik, he didn't pick up the win, but five innings and three runs allowed was a respectable showing. The first inning had been shaky under the weight of a debut start—his command wavered—but everything after that showed real promise.
Savers 5 – 1 Dragons
Winning Pitcher: Kang Hajin (5.2 IP, 4 H, 1 BB, 0 R)
Even in my fourth outing against the Dragons I managed to become the winning pitcher again. Facing the old man who was still managing them this year only made me throw harder. Having to leave the mound after a walk and a hit with two outs already in the sixth was a little disappointing, but the next pitcher shut it down cleanly, so I was satisfied.
Then, in my next start, I recorded my first loss.
"Tsk tsk. It's a circus out there. Absolute circus."
"That bad?"
"Six runs across five starts and they're losing their minds… You okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be? Four wins means you're due for a loss eventually."
"…So what the hell happened all of a sudden? Arm go dead? Something hurt?"
"Beats me. They just started squaring me up. Heh."
"…You sound happy about it."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
I genuinely didn't care. Sure, it stung a little to be dealing and then fall apart—especially after not allowing a single hit—but if anything was going to bother me it was only managing five-and-a-third. A first loss? That was nothing.
"It's not even my first loss as a pro. Last year I blew a game we'd just clawed back into. This is nothing."
"Huh… But seriously, what was it?"
"I honestly don't know. From my end the pitches looked good. If they hit them anyway, what can you do?"
"The catcher…"
"No."
Ko Mandeok had taken a foul tip off the thigh in the fourth and been replaced. It was a freak accident; he insisted he was fine, but there was no reason to push it, so Manager Park immediately put Jeong Jong-seong in. We still got through the fifth cleanly with him, yet the sixth exploded and suddenly the chatter about "the catcher" was everywhere.
From where I stood, though, nothing looked seriously wrong. He still didn't have Ko Mandeok's rock-solid presence, but there hadn't been any major mistakes, and the pitch calls were coming straight from the dugout anyway.
"Would've been nicer if I could've thrown the knuckleball."
Jeong Jong-seong still couldn't fully handle it yet.
"More like they're just starting to see the ball."
"Huh?"
"I've been throwing the same stuff since last year. By now the scouting reports should be thick enough to choke on."
"And that suddenly makes them crush it like that?"
"Sometimes it does."
"…Who even are you?"
"What?"
"The guy who used to lose his mind over one changeup getting hit—is that still you?"
"Heh heh heh. You're the one who told me to cut that out."
"…"
Ho-min stared at me like I was some new species. After all that nagging, of course I was going to fix a few things. No need to look so shocked.
April 26th. Road game against the Hawks in Busan.
My final start of April came in the second game of the series against last year's runners-up. Before the three-game set even began, Manager Park asked whether I wanted an extra day of rest.
"Not even a little. Body feels great right now."
It was true—my condition was at its absolute peak.
Why?
Well… mostly because my mood had skyrocketed.
A few days earlier the Olympic preliminary entry list had finally dropped—later than expected. My name was on it. With well over a hundred players listed, almost every name you'd expect was there, so leaving me off would have been ridiculous… but I'd still fretted about it just in case.
That was the first reason I felt good.
The second… I still didn't fully understand this one either. Also a few days earlier, on Sunday, I'd met the Hooded Woman again for the first time in a month. She'd appeared trailing that soft floral scent, handed me what she always handed me, exchanged the usual brief greeting, and left.
The next morning my condition had been absurdly good. Body felt lighter, everything freer. It wasn't our first meeting, so why the sudden jump? Still no idea.
That elevated state had held all the way through to game day.
"Hey! Take it easy! You trying to empty the tank right here?" Ko Mandeok grumbled while catching my warm-up pitches.
I really was taking it easy. Only a madman would push himself before a start.
"Stri~ke! Out!"
Strikeout! Another strikeout to finish the fifth with a one-two-three inning. That's already seven Ks.
Kang Hajin is dealing today. Not a single wasted pitch through five innings.
Sixty-one pitches so far: eleven four-seamers, eight two-seamers, ten sliders, eleven curves, seven changeups, nine splitters, five knuckleballs.
As you can see, he's mixing every pitch he has to devastating effect. No single pitch is being used as the put-away; every offering is a competitive pitch, and it's working. The hitters can't sit on any one thing, and that's producing both the strikeouts and the weak fly balls.
It was a different approach from usual. Normally when Ko Mandeok and I built the game plan we picked whatever felt best that day and made it the finisher.
"Everything's good. All of it. Nothing's lacking."
"So which one do we go with?"
"…What do you mean which one? We throw them all. Let's scramble their brains."
That was the decision we took into the game, and through five innings I never threw the same pitch twice in a row. The result so far: five innings, no walks, two hits. Working beautifully.
"Somebody please just give me one hit already."
The reason the score was still 0-0? The other starter was dealing too? You could look at it that way… but every inning we were getting baserunners into scoring position and still couldn't push that one run across. Especially in the first and fourth—runners on third with one out and nothing. A simple sac fly or even a slow infield grounder would have scored them.
Bottom of the sixth.
Still scoreless at 0-0 as we head to the bottom of the sixth, Hawks batting. Starting with the nine-hole, Jin Jae-su.
Kang Hajin has been outstanding, but he has to be careful this inning. Both of his previous starts saw trouble arrive in the sixth. And now the top of the order is coming around—guys who've already seen him twice. They'll have a plan.
Today I felt like I was pitching in a different world entirely.
A Hawks road game was always about more than just the baseball; you had to keep from getting swallowed by the crowd. Their fans were ferociously passionate—reacting to every single move a opposing pitcher made, raining boos, trying to rattle him. Yesterday's starter, Marte, hadn't understood a word they were yelling and still looked terrified just from the atmosphere.
Those same fans weren't going to be any quieter today… yet from the first inning on, once I stepped on the mound and locked onto the hitter, none of the cheers or jeers reached my ears. It was like watching a muted television—picture only.
If you asked me how that was possible, I'd have no answer. I didn't understand it either. All I could say was that my focus had climbed to an absurd peak today.
"Stri~ke! Batter out!"
Strikeout~ Jin Jae-su goes down swinging on four pitches.
Two-seamer. A 148 km/h two-seamer that ran all the way to the outer edge.
That's the eighth strikeout of the day. Kang Hajin still rolling through the sixth.
Curve to start, then four-seam, changeup, two-seam. Just watching Ko Mandeok's fingers and the mitt, and another strikeout appeared before I knew it.
The whole game had been like that. Wherever the batter stood, whatever stance he took, I ignored it completely and threw only what the fingers and the mitt told me to throw.
Ever since Ho-min started feeding me scouting data, there had been times I'd shake off a sign that didn't match my own read and demand my pitch… but not today. Today I simply threw whatever was called. And still, nothing felt like it was going to get hit.
"Out!"
"Out!"
Kang Hajin finishes the sixth with another three-up, three-down. Score remains 0-0.
Their starter was done after five. The reliever who took over worked the sixth and then came back out for the top of the seventh.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Hit~ Hit! Three straight singles for the Savers! Both baserunners come around to score. It's 2-0. The scoreless deadlock finally breaks.
With two outs in the top of the seventh, consecutive hits from Jo Chang-jun through Shane finally put a number other than zero on our side of the board. The Hawks changed pitchers and got the last out, but the damage was done.
Bottom of the ninth, two outs, nobody on, count 2-2. Here's the fifth pitch~! Swing and a miss! Strikeout! Kang Hajin records a shutout victory in his sixth start as a starter!
Perfect pitching from start to finish. Not a single high-leverage jam all night.
From the fourth inning on, he didn't allow a single baserunner.
Nine innings. Two hits. No walks. No runs. Thirteen strikeouts.
That was my final start of April.