Children's Day

Our team's first hit came from a surprising source: Ko Mandeok.

"Don't worry. Hyung'll knock one out for you," he declared with completely baseless confidence as he headed to the plate—and then he actually did it.

He ripped a clean single right through the hole between first and second, but unfortunately no follow-up hits came after that.

Both starting pitchers—Michael Len and Roman Dyke—were dealing with such overpowering stuff that the game stayed locked at 0-0 heading into the bottom of the fifth.

Leading off, our number-five hitter Kim Taeseong battled through a stubborn at-bat full of fouls and finally worked a walk to first. The team's second baserunner of the day.

And right behind him, watching the whole thing, it was my turn to step in.

Back when the third inning ended and the guys cleared out of the dugout for defense, hitting coach Kim Chan-seok had sidled up to me.

"Tough, huh?"

"…Yeah."

"It's always like that at first. Heh."

"Haaah…"

"Hajin."

"Yes?"

"Sometimes, you know… you just close your eyes and swing for the fences, and a home run comes out of it."

"…Excuse me?"

"You go, 'Hell if I know,' and just hack at it like an idiot—and it connects and goes out."

"Ah… okay."

"You're overthinking everything up there right now."

"I-is that so?"

"Yeah. That's why you keep hesitating."

"Right."

"Most hitters either sit on one pitch or just react to whatever comes, right?"

"True. But I…"

"Reacting's still hard for you. So pick one pitch and swing. Don't worry about whiffing. That's how you hit your home runs last year, isn't it?"

"Yeah… okay. Got it. But what should I look for?"

"Whatever you can hit best? If you're confident against the fastball, sit on that. If the splitter looks hittable, sit on that."

"……"

"You pick one pitch, sit on it, and miss? Fine. That guy's stuff is that good right now. Just swing with confidence. OK?"

"Yes, sir."

With that, Coach Kim Chan-seok headed back to his spot.

I'd been stewing over it ever since. What exactly should I be looking for?

The pitches I'd seen from him today: slider, curve, four-seamer, splitter, sinker.

Shit. He's thrown every single pitch a pitcher can throw. Cheap bastard.

Which of those had looked even remotely hittable?

The slider had frozen me completely… the curve I'd swung clean through… the four-seamer I'd at least managed to foul off. The splitter was a ball. The sinker was…

"Ah! The signs!"

I'd been so locked in on what to hunt that I'd completely forgotten a play might be on. I finally looked over at the third-base coach.

No special signs?

They're not bunting me?

Looking at the stuff Michael Len was throwing today, that first run was going to be huge…

They're letting me swing away?

I took the sign, stepped into the box, and finally shut down the endless loop of second-guessing.

Just like Coach Kim said, even our own hitters weren't touching this guy.

Shane was struggling. The captain was struggling. Who the hell was I to…

"Confident… confident…"

I muttered it like a mantra as I settled in. From behind the plate, Jang Hyeon-seok started chirping again—the same casual, needling comments he'd tossed out in my first at-bat.

I decided not to answer this time. I didn't have the bandwidth for banter right now.

When I stayed quiet he seemed to lose interest. Then came the solid thwack of his fist punching the mitt.

Signs were done.

I eased my hips back a fraction and got ready to turn on the bat.

Whoosh—

"Stri~ke!"

First pitch was a four-seamer. Painted the outside corner so far away it looked like it was in another zip code.

Still, I could've at least nicked it… instead the bat whistled cleanly over the top of the ball.

The big swing carried all the way around until the barrel was right in front of my back heel. I figured Jang would have something to say about that.

Surprisingly, nothing.

A moment later I reset. The pitcher shook his head once, then took the next sign.

The ball left Roman Dyke's left hand and came screaming toward me.

Here it comes.

If this was a four-seamer I'd have to bail out. It might not hit me, but it was coming in that deep.

But why would he? Nobody throws at a guy in his third career at-bat with a man on first and nobody out.

So what was this?

Drop, damn it—!

Crack!

"Wooooaaaahhh!!"

My timing still wasn't perfect this time either.

I'd sat on it properly… saw it coming in on my hands and fully expected the late drop.

I'd stepped in looking for the sinker from the start.

With a man on first and nobody out, there was no way he was going to mix every pitch the way he had in my first at-bat.

I figured inducing a double play with the sinker was the best option for their battery.

So I'd swung confidently at the first pitch—and gotten the four-seamer instead. That's why my bat had sliced cleanly over the top.

I thought that swing would tip them off that I was hunting the sinker… I never expected him to come right back with it on the second pitch.

Roman Dyke had shaken his head once. Probably the catcher put down something else after seeing my swing, and the pitcher refused it.

In other words, the sinker had been the pitcher's own stubborn call.

"Nice job. Really nice job."

"Thank you, sir."

The first-base coach thumped me hard on the back with each compliment. The force of it caught me a little off guard.

And then…

Baserunning, huh…

How long had it been since I'd done this?

I couldn't remember the last time anything felt this awkward.

Of course I knew how the plays were supposed to work. The problem was reacting in real time—could I actually do it?

Our dugout didn't look like they were planning to send in a pinch runner, so I was going to have to handle it myself for now.

Just the basics. Stick to the basics.

They weren't going to have me steal anyway. My legs were decently quick, but there was no way. What would they even be thinking?

They wouldn't force any fancy baserunning on me, so I just told myself to keep it simple.

And then…

What? Go?

The count was 2-2. Number-seven hitter Lee Won-jeong had just fouled one off and was waiting on the fifth pitch.

The sudden sign that came flying in made my head spin.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Steal? Me? I'm a pitcher. Are you serious? Why are you doing this to me?

For the record, I was reasonably fast.

Not on the level of the real baserunning specialists, but in practice I was quicker than most of the hitters.

Among today's starting lineup, outside of Jo Chang-won, Choi Min-gi, and Na Seung-won, I was faster than the rest.

But this was a bit much…

Anyway, the run-and-hit sign was on. Once a sign is given, you follow it.

Until now I'd been keeping my lead short because I was paranoid about pickoff throws.

I stretched it one more step.

Roman Dyke, staring straight at me, didn't seem to care in the slightest.

Look at this guy.

Apparently he never even considered the possibility that I might run.

Honestly, that was fair. What manager sends a pitcher?

I was wound tight when Roman Dyke's leg went up. The instant it did, I broke.

I wasn't sure if I'd actually seen it right, but the moment I broke I thought our eyes met.

I could've sworn I caught his eyes going wide with shock in that split second. Then the wild pitch.

The ball shot all the way behind the catcher. I saw the third-base coach windmilling his arm like a madman and just kept running all the way to third.

And finished with a slide for good measure.

"Good! Nice, Kang Hajin!!"

"Hoo… made it."

"Well done. That was beautiful."

"Yeah… whew…"

My heart was hammering so hard I couldn't tell if it was from the sprint to third or the sheer relief.

"Though you might want to practice that slide a bit. Heh."

While the third-base coach and I were talking, the Falcons' Lee Dae-gyeong—covering third—jumped in.

"Y-yeah? It's been a really long time since I did that. Haha."

"Still looked good, though."

"Th-thank you."

This guy was on the other team and still had a soft spot. Nice of him.

Crack!

Next up, Ko Mandeok lifted a fly ball to right.

"Now!"

The second the ball was caught and the coach's voice hit my ears, I broke from third and came home.

Thankfully no slide was needed this time.

"Wooooaaaahhh!"

"You crazy bastard!"

"You fucking killed it!!"

The moment I hit the dugout, hands came flying at my head from every direction and a chaotic storm of voices crashed over me.

Then someone stepped up last and suddenly wrapped me in a crushing hug.

"Urgh… wh-who…"

I managed to lift my face enough to see who it was. Michael Len.

In all ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my time with this team, I had never once seen Michael Len get this physical. And with me of all people…

"Th-thank you."

"$^%@$#^#%^#@$%@^@% !!!!!"

Translator. I need a translator.

"One of the two players who led the Savers to victory on Children's Day—we've got Kang Hajin with us. Kang Hajin, in your first start of the season as a hitter, you really put on a show today."

"Thank you. It all felt a little surreal, but I'm just glad the results came out well."

"All three of the team's runs today were scored while you were on base. First, do you remember that second at-bat?"

"Ah, yes. Before I went up for the second at-bat, the hitting coach told me to sit on just one pitch. So I went up looking only for the sinker, and luckily it worked out."

…

…

"And then you put on an incredible baserunning display. Not just our broadcast booth—everyone watching must have been stunned."

"I was pretty stunned myself. I hadn't even practiced baserunning. Then suddenly the run-and-hit sign came in. So I just thought, 'Might as well run like hell,' and went for it. Got lucky."

…

…

"Finally, any words for the fans?"

"Uh… I'm just glad we could give them a win on Children's Day. The team's playing well right now, and I'll keep working hard so we can keep it going."