Fall Baseball

The regular season was over.

Once the season wrapped, we were given five days off.

On the second day of that break, I sat in front of the TV with Han Song-yi and Ho-min to watch Wild Card Game 1.

"Who do you think's gonna win?"

"Warriors."

"What about you, Song-yi?"

"Warriors for me too."

"Aww… no bet then."

"The starting pitching matchup's a joke."

The Warriors were sending out their ace, Jon Reiner, while the Unicorns couldn't even field their number-one or number-two starters. They'd gone all-out right to the end just to cling to fifth place, and this was the price. The Warriors, for whom fourth had always been their ceiling, had carefully saved Jon Reiner specifically for Wild Card Game 1.

We ordered chicken and pizza and settled in to watch.

Early on, just as we'd predicted, the Warriors scratched across the first run, and Jon Reiner completely smothered the Unicorns. After five innings the score sat at 3–0.

But in the sixth, Park Ji-hoon's surprise two-run homer sent the game spinning sideways. Jon Reiner, who'd been dealing all night, suddenly came unglued, while the Unicorns' bullpen somehow scraped and clawed through the remaining innings…

"What the hell is this…"

Final score: 4–6.

The Unicorns had flipped the whole thing.

"…No idea how this is gonna go now."

Fall baseball was already off to a thrilling start.

After the game we roughly cleaned up the mess and headed out for a walk with Song-yi around the neighborhood. We did a lap of the park, then sat on a quiet bench to catch a little breeze.

"Honey."

"Yeah?"

"My dad says he wants to meet you."

"…Huh?"

I was so startled I couldn't even form a proper answer for a second.

"…I-if it's too much pressure…"

Seeing my reaction, Song-yi grew a little cautious.

"No, it's fine. When should we go see him?"

"You sure?"

"Of course!"

Honestly it wasn't fine at all, but I had to say it was.

"Really? Then how about before your break ends?"

"……"

Absolutely not. We only had three days left of the break… what kind of sudden introduction was this…

I had to choose my words carefully. I spun my brain as fast as I could and finally landed on an answer.

"Wouldn't it be better to meet him wearing a championship ring?"

"You think so? Yeah, you're right. You've got the Korean Series coming up soon—you should focus on that. Okay, I'll tell him."

"Y-yeah."

Phew… thank god. I think I got her to understand. In a very short time I'd cooked up a solid excuse.

Meeting him would be nice… but honestly, a little scary? I didn't even know what I'd say… At least I'd bought some time. Now I needed to go around asking for advice.

The Unicorns took the next game as well. Both starters collapsed early, turning it into a pure bullpen war, and Lee Hyeong-jong threw four scoreless innings to seal the win.

While our team finished the break and dove back into training, the semi-playoffs unfolded. In Game 1 at the Hawks' home park the Unicorns won again, shocking everyone and raising a flicker of hope—only to drop the next three straight. The Unicorns' uprising ended right there, and the Hawks advanced to the playoffs.

Then came the playoffs themselves.

"Raiders are coming up, right?"

"Probably? It'd be nice if the Hawks made it though."

"Hope they play a ton of games to get there. Completely wreck their rotation."

"Hehehe."

That would be nice. If it went all the way to Game 5 and the Hawks advanced, perfect…

The Raiders' storm of consecutive wins. The Hawks couldn't touch the Raiders' top two starters at all. Especially after getting crushed in Game 2—when the Hawks' own ace had been on the mound—it looked like the playoffs might end right there.

Ki Chan-su, who'd completely bombed at the Olympics, threw six innings of two-run ball and won them Game 3. The Raiders, saving Kwon Jong-jin for the Korean Series, started Min Kyung-hak in Game 4 instead.

The Raiders' rotation change had failed.

In the end, Kwon Jong-jin took the ball in Game 5, threw eight innings of one-run ball, and carried the Raiders into the Korean Series.

Manager Park Donghoon was deep in thought.

Kang Hajin, Michael Len, Marte, Lee Yong-hun.

That had been the Korean Series starting rotation he'd decided on while watching the Raiders steamroll through the playoffs. Against Kwon Jong-jin, whom the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Raiders would almost certainly start in Game 1, he'd planned to throw Kang Hajin. Then the two foreign pitchers, and if things were going well, Lee Yong-hun as well. If things went poorly, he was even prepared to bring Hajin back for Game 4.

But that plan had just been completely wrecked—thanks to the Hawks hanging on longer than expected. The Hawks had finally dragged Kwon Jong-jin out for Game 5. Even though they'd lost, they'd forced him to pitch into the eighth, making it impossible for him to start Game 1 or 2 of the Korean Series. He could force it if he really wanted to, but there was no way they'd push him that hard…

"Huuu…"

Park Donghoon had wanted to put Kang Hajin on the mound the moment Kwon Jong-jin appeared. This season Hajin and Kwon had faced each other twice. Both times Hajin had won. And Michael Len against Kwon Jong-jin?

"No… he loses that matchup."

Park Donghoon was a firm believer in pitcher-hitter matchups and pitcher-versus-pitcher chemistry. In his mind, Kang Hajin simply ate Kwon Jong-jin alive. And there was something else he'd noticed in their second meeting.

"He looked strangely rushed."

Kwon Jong-jin was always a pitcher with time to spare. Even if he hung a pitch and gave up a home run, he'd flash that trademark smile and bounce right back. But in that previous game, after giving up the first homer, he'd looked genuinely frustrated. And the pitches that followed—he'd poured every ounce of focus and stamina into each one.

Other people might not have noticed, but Park Donghoon had seen it clearly. That walk-off home run at the end? Sure, Park Jeonghun had hit it well, but you couldn't ignore the fact that Kwon had already overextended himself before that.

"No choice."

Manager Park made his decision.

"Why's he doing this to me?"

Manager Park had called me in and explained why I wasn't starting Game 1. For him it was a pretty long speech, but the bottom line was simple: he needed me to beat Kwon Jong-jin.

"Wouldn't it be better if I took Games ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠1, 4, and 7?"

I tried that…

"I'm planning to end the Korean Series 4–0."

…and got a completely ridiculous answer.

What if Michael Len or Marte lost? What if Kwon Jong-jin didn't even start Game 3? Unexpected situations could pop up any time. If the manager trusted me that much, wouldn't it be better for the team if I just pitched as many games as possible?

That thought must have shown on my face. I probably looked a little unhappy.

Seeing that, Manager Park continued.

"I don't have confidence that any other starter can take a game from Kwon Jong-jin. That means we'd just be handing them a free win—and in the Korean Series, can we really just give away even one game?"

"Ah… no, sir."

"As long as it isn't Kwon Jong-jin, Michael Len and Marte can beat anyone else they throw out there."

"…Yes, sir."

"And whenever Kwon faces you, he gets worked up."

"Sir? What do you mean…"

"He tenses up because he doesn't want to lose to you. That makes him easier for our hitters to attack."

"He always looks like he's throwing so easily though…"

"Anyway, that's why you have to face him. Get ready."

"……Yes, sir."

I had no idea what he was talking about. That guy tenses up because he doesn't want to lose to me? That made zero sense…

I didn't understand it at all, but there was nothing I could do. Once the manager decided, my job was to follow. And since he was trusting me enough to hand me Kwon Jong-jin, I couldn't exactly say "I can't do it."

"Sigh. I really wanted to throw a lot in the Korean Series."

Nothing I could do about it now. All I could do was hope Manager Park's choice was the right one.

Korean Series Game 1.

Michael Len answered Manager Park's expectations perfectly. His slider was filthy, completely shutting down the Raiders' lineup. The chain of Michael Len, Jo Sangjun, and Kang Chanjung held the Raiders to a single run, and we took Game 1 by a score of 5–1.

But after the game, Manager Park suddenly called me over and said something completely absurd, looking weirdly urgent.

"Be ready to start tomorrow. Loosen up your body."

"……What?"

"Keep the possibility of pitching in mind."

"Why all of a sudden…"

He wasn't the type to satisfy my curiosity. Manager Park delivered only what he needed to say and ended the conversation right there.

And the next day, I found out why.

"What the hell… is he trying to rip his arm off?"

Kwon Jong-jin was taking the mound again after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠only two days of rest.

"Manager… did you actually predict this? Is that why you told me to loosen up?"

How? No—more importantly…

"The starter's already set as Marte. So why am I…"

I had no idea what the hell was going on.