The Home Run Hitter

"Hajin."

"Yes. Should I get ready?"

"No, that's not it... You were pretty decent with the bat back in high school, right?"

Out of nowhere, what the hell...

"I heard you even hit cleanup."

"Well, yeah, I did, but..."

Honestly, how many guys who make it to the pros never batted in the heart of the order as high schoolers? Hitters, sure—but pitchers too. Most of us started and hit fourth. Me included.

After turning pro, though, I barely ever picked up a bat. Other pitchers took batting practice just to clear their heads... I never had that kind of luxury.

"We're out of players to sub in."

"What?"

"You know the pitcher's sitting in the DH spot right now."

"Uh... is he?"

I had no idea. When the hell did that happen?

"...... Taeseong rolled his ankle and got pulled. So Hyojung moved from DH over to first. Anyway, that's not the point."

"Yes, sir."

"I need you in the batter's box. No more hitters left to replace."

"......"

"You can't do it?"

"But Yong-hun's on the mound right now."

"Exactly. Yong-hun's batting third... and the kid can't even lay down a bunt. You're still better than him, right?"

"Ah..."

"If the first two guys both make outs, we just send Yong-hun up. Otherwise..."

I checked the lineup. Leading off the top of the eleventh was our captain, Seo Gyeongmin. Then Yoon Hyojung, who'd shifted from DH to first.

If those two went down quietly, either Lee Yong-hun—who couldn't bunt to save his life—would step in, or I would.

"Understood."

I couldn't say no. I'd only been with the team a week. No way I was going to whine that I couldn't do it. And if I made an out, nobody was going to give me grief about it anyway.

"Good. Let's get you ready, yeah?"

"Yes. Uh, but I don't have any gear or anything..."

"That. Over there... just borrow Gyeongmin's."

We headed into the dugout just as the guys finished the inning and came jogging in. The bench coach grabbed Seo Gyeongmin—who was already gearing up to hit—and said something quick. Gyeongmin nodded, came back, and handed me his bat.

"My helmet won't fit you, so just grab one from somebody else. Use this bat, though. It's the lightest one I swing—should work better for you."

"Yes. Thank you."

"Alright. Get ready to go. Hyung'll set the table for you. Heh heh."

Set the table... like I was even going to be able to eat whatever he put out there...

And whose helmet am I supposed to borrow...

I was looking around for a helmet when a thick black arm suddenly thrust one at me. I turned. Rick Sanchez grinned and offered it again.

"Ah~ thank you~"

Those forearms were as thick as a woman's waist, but apparently his head was on the small side. The helmet fit me perfectly.

Then it happened.

Crack!

"Wooooooooo!!!"

A clean single over the shortstop's head, and Seo Gyeongmin was on first.

Next up: Yoon Hyojung.

Normally they would've had him bunt Gyeongmin over to second and play for the win. Unfortunately, I was the next batter.

They could still move the runner ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to second, let me strike out, and hope the seven-hole guy came through... but the seven-hole was a rookie who'd come in as a pinch runner. He'd only had a handful of at-bats all year and just two hits to show for it.

Sink or swim, Hyojung had to come through right now.

Crack!

"Woooooooooo!!!"

A ball that hugged the third-base line and rolled fair. Our fans in the visiting section roared. A faster runner might have tried to score from first. Sadly, our captain on first wasn't that guy.

Nobody out, runners on second and third.

I'd been swinging the bat loosely in the on-deck circle. Now, for the first time since turning pro, I had to step into the box.

"Hey, sunbae."

"Hm? Me?"

The rookie who was supposed to hit seventh spoke up.

"Coach says the guy's not throwing any breaking balls."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Says he won't risk a hanging breaker—just sit on the fastball."

"...He told me to swing?"

"Yes."

"...Alright. Thanks."

Usually they tell you not to swing so you don't get hurt, right? Just stand there and take your walk back to the dugout. Looks like I was actually supposed to take cuts.

At least there was no double-play risk. Whatever I did, I was dying alone. That made it a little easier.

Without thinking too hard, I did what I always did in high school—bowed to the umpire and stepped in. I thought I heard a snicker behind me, but I couldn't tell if it was the ump or the catcher.

How hard does this guy throw again? Around 145?

The closer who'd gone ten innings was gone. This was the guy they brought in for the top of the eleventh. Watching him sweat bullets while taking signs from the catcher, something clicked.

Would a catcher really call for pinpoint corner work when his pitcher was already in a jam? Against a pitcher taking his first pro at-bat, no less?

No chance.

He's going to stay away from the inner half. Hit me with a pitch and the whole thing blows up. He'll be careful of a cheap long fly too. Slow grounder is dangerous. So...

Best case for them was a strikeout. Failing that, an infield pop or a short outfield fly—Gyeongmin was slow enough that it might work.

The pitch that could get that...

The pitcher finished his windup and let it go.

Crack!!

In this spot, the only pitch that made sense was a high fastball.

Honestly, I could barely see the ball. Just a white blur coming in, so I figured it would be up and swung.

Then I felt something solid meet the barrel...

"Woooooooooo!!!!!"

Somehow the ball never thought about coming down. It just kept flying until it cleared the wall by a mile.

"You crazy bastard!"

"Hey! Kang Hajin! You son of a bitch! Wahahaha!"

In a daze I rounded the bases and came home. Seo Gyeongmin and Yoon Hyojung were already waiting, pounding my helmet and yelling something I couldn't process.

The second I hit the dugout the rest of the team swarmed me, hammering every inch of my body.

"That pitcher! The pitcher! I still have to go back out! Aagh!"

"Hey, hey. Easy. Kid still has to close this out."

I finally managed to shout through the beating. Only then did Gyeongmin step in and peel everyone off.

Rick Sanchez was still hyped, babbling something I couldn't understand... so I just smiled and figured it was complimentary.

"Kang Hajin. Maybe I should stick you in as a hitter every now and then? Hell, should I just make you a two-way player?"

Manager Park Donghoon—who until now had only ever said the bare minimum to me—was joking. And smiling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brightly while he did it.

"Ah, no sir. Just got lucky."

"Nice job."

"Yes, sir!"

I sat down. Rick Sanchez came over again and handed me a drink.

"Thanks."

The cold liquid helped the adrenaline settle a little. He kept talking the whole time...

Where the hell is the interpreter?

I didn't catch a single word.

The opposing pitcher completely fell apart after giving up the homer to me. He surrendered three more runs before they finally got out of the inning. Even with a six-run lead, Manager Park still sent me to the mound.

"Let's finish this quick."

I nodded at Kim Do-gyeong, the backup catcher who'd come in for Ko Mandeok. The signs that followed were four-seam, four-seam, four-seam.

"Stri~ke! Out! Game set!"

And just like that, the game was over.

"Kang Hajin, can I get an autograph?"

"Kang Hajin, you were so cool today!"

"Could we get one picture?"

"Kang Hajin!"

"Kang Hajin!"

Leaving the stadium on the way to the bus, I was completely surrounded by the fans who'd made the trip. I signed until my hand went numb, answering questions in between and posing for photos until my soul felt like it was leaving my body.

But the feeling was the best. How could I hate hearing fans call my name and praise me?

The problem was that no matter how many I signed, the line never ended.

"Everyone~ I'm sorry, but we need to take Hajin now. We've got a bus to catch. Really sorry."

Only after Seo Gyeongmin stepped in and asked for understanding did I finally escape.

The moment the bus pulled out, almost everyone fell asleep. The game had been so brutal that the second the lights went off, snoring filled the cabin.

My hands, though, were itching. I wanted to check the articles... wanted to dive into the communities and see what the fans were saying...

"You should get some sleep. You'll be wrecked tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"You're still amped up. If you don't rest properly after this, you'll get sick. Trust me and sleep."

"Yes..."

Jo Sangjun, eyes closed in the seat beside me, made me put the phone away. I shut my eyes. And somehow I dropped off almost instantly.

What had been so exhausting? I hadn't even been in the game that long.

I slept the entire bus ride, and the second I walked into my place back in Seoul I collapsed again.

Monday morning. I woke up like I'd been knocked out cold. The very first thing I did was dig out the wooden box I'd hidden deep away.

"Look how beautiful these are."

Three Mysterious Pills left in the box. I carefully took one out and put it in my mouth.

I'd had a few by now, right? It used to taste so bitter... now the bitterness fading on my tongue almost felt like a shame.

"Whew... most important job of the day is done..."

I opened my laptop and went straight to the sports section of the portal site I'd been dying to check since yesterday.

Just as I expected, articles about my home run were stacked one after another. Apparently someone had hit a grand slam in another park, but those stories were completely buried under mine.

I skimmed the main pieces and hopped into the community boards. The very first title that jumped out at me:

"Hmm... I was just sitting on one pitch..."

Looking at the gif they posted with the thread, yeah—even I could admit the swing looked a little clumsy. But that was only compared to guys who actually make a living as hitters. I'd been a hitter myself through high school, and it hadn't been that long since graduation. I still had some residual timing left.

"Tch. It was a perfect guess-hit, damn it."

No point reading any further if the conversation wasn't going anywhere good. I closed the laptop.