I'm Really Gonna Die
"You really ought to be grateful to your hyung, you know that?"
Taeseong hyung had been ridiculously busy lately. He'd said he was coming to look after me, but other work kept swallowing him up so completely that we hadn't even managed a proper conversation in ages.
The reason he was so swamped was Jeong Jong-seong. Jong-seong was doing fine overall, but the moment he showed even the slightest hitch in his receiving, the team had immediately glued Taeseong hyung to him.
Thanks to that, hyung had been practically living in the bullpen with Jong-seong…
Today, though, Jong-seong was out, so hyung finally had some free time.
"I'll buy dinner."
"You're inviting Coach Cho Hyun-joon too?"
"Of course."
"You haven't even called the coach yet, have you?"
"Ah…"
Damn. It hadn't even crossed my mind.
"Honestly. Call him after the game today, you idiot. The second you hit that home run he called me right away, all excited."
"He could've just called me…"
"He said he didn't want to put extra pressure on you."
"…"
"Whether you hit well or not today, call him. Got it?"
"Yes."
No excuses—this one was entirely on me. I could've mentioned him during the Sunday interview… but I'd been too fired up… No, that was just another excuse.
The truth was I simply hadn't thought of it.
What a complete idiot…
I had no choice but to blame this empty head of mine… Maybe Homin was right and I really was a total moron the second baseball left the picture.
Caster: We'll be bringing you the third matchup of the season between the Savers and the Warriors. There was a change to the lineup before today's game, wasn't there?
Commentator: That's right. It looks like they made the switch after spotting a minor issue with Jeong Jong-seong's body.
Caster: I was genuinely shocked when I saw this lineup.
Commentator: Same here. I had to double-check it several times. Heh. Not something you see every day in Korean pro baseball, is it?
Caster: Exactly. As everyone can see, today's starting pitcher, Kang Hajin, is also listed as a hitter. He's batting seventh.
Commentator: Hmm… I get the feeling the Savers had already planned to put Kang Hajin in the lineup.
Caster: Oh? Is that so?
Commentator: Yes. Maybe not for today specifically, but I suspect the Savers have been preparing Kang Hajin for two-way duty. Jeong Jong-seong's unexpected injury simply accelerated the timeline a bit…
Caster: Looking back, he did put on quite a hitting display last week, didn't he?
Commentator: He did. He came in as a starter once and was involved in every single run, then on Sunday he smashed a grand slam and really showed what he could do. I imagine that performance is what pushed Manager Park Donghoon into making this tough call.
Caster: Kang Hajin's two-way play—how do you see it?
Commentator: It's still only a handful of at-bats, so it's early to say much… but the raw power is clearly exceptional. The issue is that today he has to handle the mound as the starter and step into the batter's box. Whether that part holds up is something we'll just have to watch.
I had no idea how I even got through the first inning.
Honestly, my head was somewhere else entirely, so I couldn't focus on pitching at all.
I just stared at Ko Mandeok's fingers and threw wherever he pointed. I gave up one infield single but still closed the inning without allowing a run.
"Your stuff's looking good today."
"…It is?"
I'd been spacing out and throwing without thinking, and now he was saying the ball looked good… Was I supposed to be happy about that or not?
"Don't worry about hitting. Just keep throwing like that. We'll score the runs for you."
"Yeah, sure…"
Even the little extra comment Mandeok tacked on made me wonder if the ball had really been that good, but stepping into the noisy dugout at least helped my head clear a little.
"You're using mine today, right?"
It would've been nicer if this guy hadn't bothered me at all.
The bat I'd used for that grand slam last time had already been reclaimed by its owner, Lee Wonjeong. Apparently he was going to hand me one "full of good energy" for today?
Not that I believed any of that, but if I actually hit a home run with it, it'd be a win for me, so I handed it back without a second thought.
Lee Wonjeong had said he'd give me a different bat instead… but then Kim Taeseong—who hadn't been chosen on Sunday—came marching over with a bat of his own and shoved it at me.
"Hyung, your bats are way too heavy."
"Hey, this one's not heavy. It's the lightest one I've got."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Try it."
I picked it up, and it really was lighter than the ones Taeseong usually swung.
"It's the one I use in the summer when my power drops and I'm not making solid contact. Figured I might as well soak up some of your luck too."
"…You're not actually serious, right?"
"Not serious? Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be? Thanks to you, maybe I'll finally crush one myself. Heh heh."
Leave it to a baseball player. Superstition or not, if it even smelled like it might help, they tried it. Couldn't be helped, I supposed.
Moments like this always reminded me… I had zero routines.
Some guys put their socks on in a specific order. Others timed their steps just right when they stepped over the dugout threshold…
There were all kinds of weird routines out there…
I got that they did it hoping it would somehow make them better at baseball… but honestly, I just didn't get it. Maybe I couldn't live while fretting over every little thing like that. Too much of a hassle.
Does taking my meds every Monday morning count as a routine?
Well, if you stretched it that far, I guess I had one…
Bottom of the first: three up, three down.
Top of the second: an error put a runner on, but I still came off the mound without giving up a run.
Bottom of the second: another three up, three down.
Jon Reiner was proving his recent good form by throwing absolute daggers.
Me, on the other hand… I felt like I was doing all right too.
In the top of the second, Kim Taeseong bobbled a routine grounder and let a runner on via error.
Truth was, the infield single in the first had also been a ball Taeseong should've easily handled. It was a little soft, sure, but…
And then, when a rolling ball came his way, he tried to barehand it and fire immediately, only to completely miss it. Officially scored an infield hit.
The batter was slow-footed, which made it even more frustrating. He could've taken his time.
"That guy hands me a bat and then completely loses his mind…"
He kept glancing my way—whether because he felt bad about the error or because he was obsessing over the bat… personally, I was leaning toward the latter.
Top of the third.
Today Mandeok was calling for a lot of two-seamers. I'd thrown one four-seamer in the first and that was it. After that it was two-seam after two-seam.
Both of the balls that had put runners on earlier had been two-seamers… and unlike usual, they felt weirdly unstable.
The ground balls themselves were fine. It was that spaced-out third baseman who was making me nervous.
Crack.
"Out!"
Thankfully the ball rolled toward the shortstop. Choi Mingi fielded it cleanly and threw to first.
"That's more like it."
One out, and the lineup turned over back to the leadoff hitter.
Tick.
On the first-pitch two-seamer the batter laid down a push bunt toward first and took off running.
I sprinted full speed toward the first-base bag myself, and luckily Seo Gyeongmin fielded it quickly and fired to first.
"Out!"
Clean defense.
Two outs, now the number-two hitter.
"What the fuck…"
Tick.
"Foul!"
The two-out batter laid down another bunt.
I saw it heading toward third and scrambled after it, but thankfully it went foul.
Tick.
"Foul!"
Same exact situation again.
I had to leave the mound one more time.
"Hoo… fuck…"
Once toward first. Twice down the third-base foul line.
I'd only sprinted those three times and already my breathing was getting a little ragged.
I ran every single day without fail—how the hell was this little bit of running already getting to me…
"Stri~ke! Out!"
Third pitch, slider, strikeout.
Thankfully the inning ended with no one on base and I headed back to the dugout.
"Hajin, get ready and go right back out."
"Huh?"
"You're hitting!"
"Ah… yeah."
Fucking hell. Out again already?
Why was today so damn busy?
"Hello~"
I gave a light greeting and stepped into the box.
Crack!
The first-pitch two-seamer caught a piece of the bat.
I took off running.
"Foul!"
The ball just barely sailed past the right-field line on the first-base side.
I'd sprinted all the way to first praying it would drop fair, only to have to turn around and jog back to the plate.
"Augh, fuck. Why is this so hard?"
I wanted nothing more than to catch my breath and stroll back casually… but if I did that I'd catch hell for it, so I had to at least keep jogging, even if slowly.
"Tired?"
Na Jonghyeok, wearing the Warriors catcher's mask, asked in a tone that said he already knew the answer.
If you already know, why ask?
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. Just do one thing. One. Keep this up and you'll get hurt."
Ah~ so that was what he wanted to say?
"Still, if they tell me to do it, I have to. Not like I have any say in it."
I brushed it off vaguely.
The pitcher finished his signs and delivered the next pitch.
A ball coming right down the middle. The problem was it didn't look all that fast. I knew this guy's top velocity hit 159 km/h.
Even if it was an off-speed pitch designed to bait my swing, I couldn't not offer at it. It just looked that hittable.
As the ball neared the plate it started running away toward the outside. My bat was already committed—no taking it back now.
Tick.
It caught the end of the bat and rolled down the first-base foul line.
I flung the bat away and bolted toward first…
"Foul."
The ball that had been rolling along the line suddenly curved, like someone had yanked it with a string, and crossed into foul territory.
You fucking piece of shit…
I'd just full-sprinted to first again. No joke—I was actually dying.
As I walked back to the box I ran through it in my head.
Sprinted to first on a bunt, then twice more down the foul line on bunts. In the batter's box, two consecutive full sprints to first on pitches that practically begged me to swing.
I glanced up at the scoreboard. The velocity reading showed 136 km/h.
"Is this a joke?"
Didn't this guy's slider usually sit 145-plus? And now 136?
For a second a useless thought flickered through my head—Wow, he really knows how to change speeds. Hitters must die against that kind of velocity control. Though the pitch itself looked pretty flat…—but more than that…
"No way… on purpose?"
My damn suspicion complex was flaring up again.
I'd once gotten so paranoid on my own that I ended up kicking myself under the covers later, so I tried not to jump to conclusions… but looking at that velocity…
It felt like he wanted me to run. Like he was throwing with the mindset that anything short of a home run—hit or foul—was fine. Every pitch had been away, too.
Make me swing, make me run, drain the starter's stamina so they could take control of the game more easily. Even when I tried not to think it, the idea kept circling around and around in my head.
And if that really was the case, then right now that battery's strategy was a complete success. Because I was so exhausted I wanted to die.
"Take your time coming in. Catch your breath a little."
"…"
Give me the disease then hand me the medicine, huh.
Still, I followed Na Jonghyeok's advice and took a few deep breaths to settle my breathing. It felt a little better…
Just take the strikeout and go sit down. At this rate my pitching's going to fall apart.
I was standing in the box, but the important thing was pitching. Nothing mattered more than that for a starting pitcher.
Rather than thrashing around trying to scratch out one hit here, it felt smarter to just cleanly take the strikeout and be done with it.
Like those old Major League pitchers who used to stand way back in the box, watch three pitches go by, and walk back to the dugout.
But then…
Crack!
"Ah, right! You fucking—!!"
A flat four-seamer coming in a little high down the middle, and my bat went after it before I even realized. I hadn't meant to swing. My body just reacted on its own. At this point was it even a real pitch or batting practice?
"Safe."
And of course the ball found the perfect gap, rolling cleanly between the center fielder and right fielder… With the ball going that far I had no choice but to dig for second.
"Waaaaaaaaah!!"
The fans who had no idea what I was going through, and my teammates in the dugout, were all going completely nuts like I'd done something amazing…
"Haa… hoo… hoo… damn it… fuck… never again… when I'm starting… never again… fuck…"
I was really gonna die.