Good Kid (3)
Oh Seungjin, the sacrificial lamb of the historic 10 consecutive strikeouts, thought to himself as he stepped away from the plate.
'Today's sports headlines are gonna be all mine.'
It was a mega-record after 42 years. The image of him striking out and staring blankly at the catcher's mitt would now be etched across the nation. Hell, maybe even the world.
'That Jin Yuha guy's got a ton of international fans.'
As a kid, he'd dreamed of becoming a globally famous baseball star, just like everyone else among Korea's baseball prospects—especially the hitters. After all, such a player had actually existed.
'Ha... Jin Yusung sunbaenim... I used to love him so much.'
Oh Seungjin, a die-hard fan of Jin Yusung, felt like he might start hating his hero from today on. How could he sire such a monster and drop him on Korea?
Was it some kind of warning? A wake-up call for Korean baseball's decline after his retirement? But why me as the sacrifice? I'd lived my life working my ass off!
Oh Seungjin, on the verge of becoming a superstar for all the wrong reasons thanks to Jin Yuha, felt utterly wronged.
"You damn... Ah, forget it. Go rest."
His devastated mood must have shown on his face. Park Deoksu, the manager who'd been about to say something, just let him go without a word.
"Phew..."
Oh Seungjin grabbed a cold water from the dugout fridge, chugged it down, and slumped onto the bench, staring blankly at the field.
Crack!!
"Strike!"
Jin Yuha fired a 162 km/h four-seamer right into the strike zone on the first pitch.
'Davidson's totally spooked. Can't blame him against that kinda heat.'
Before the game, the guy had bragged about facing 100-mph fastballs in the minors and talked big about taking on Jin Yuha. Now, just two at-bats in, he was acting like a scaredy-cat.
Thwack!!
"Foul!"
Thwack!!
"Foul!"
Thwack!
"Foul!"
Davidson had balked at Manager Park Deoksu's pre-game instructions to work the count deep. Something about it being embarrassing for a power hitter like him.
'Hah... Guess he's not embarrassed anymore.'
The once-bold foreign slugger was now choking up noticeably on the bat, desperation clear in his grip—he'd do anything to avoid striking out. But...
Whoosh!!
If it were that easy, every batter so far would've done it too.
Wham!!
Davidson swung desperately at a high pitch.
Thud!!
But the ball dodged the bat and slammed into the catcher's mitt.
"Swing strike!!! Out!!!"
The home plate umpire's unusually excited voice boomed through the stadium.
- WAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
The stadium shook like there was an earthquake.
That was probably the commentary booth's call right now.
"Haa..."
Oh Seungjin swept his gaze over the despair-filled Pistols dugout.
"Huh?"
He tilted his head.
'Wait, doesn't this mean Davidson's the one getting immortalized, not me?'
A wave of relief hit him, but he fought to keep his lips from curling up.
'Hng... Shit. Shit. Shit.'
If that red-faced old man muttering curses nonstop caught him smirking, it'd be bad news.
Truth be told, I hadn't aimed for strikeouts at all today. It just happened that way.
Consecutive strikeouts record? I wasn't really thinking about it.
Nice if I got it, but not a big deal. I had my real target record in mind. So...
Thwack!!
"Out!"
Even when the inning's final out came on a foul pop fly, I felt nothing special.
"Uh..."
Kang Gihoo sunbae, who'd caught the fly, glanced at me nervously.
"Phew..."
The Pistols hitter who struck out let out a sigh of relief—it was kinda funny.
"It's an out either way, though."
"You're really..."
As we headed back to the dugout, Jeong Hanseong trailed off after I voiced my thoughts.
"I absolutely can't leave the Titans in FA."
Suddenly, Baek Jihun sunbae, walking beside me, declared lifelong loyalty to the team.
"If Yuha looks at me with that pitying face from the mound after I strike out, I'd wanna die."
What did I do? I looked around indignantly, but...
"..."
Everyone just nodded silently.
"Tch."
Disappointed in these fielders' lack of respect for the starter, I reminded myself of my key record.
'46 scoreless innings so far...'
Almost there. Just a bit more for the all-time consecutive scoreless innings record.
The strikeout streak? 'Just a bonus.'
I'd done it before, back in the day.
Bottom of the 4th.
CRACK!!
Another ball sailed over the fence. Park Cheongwon, pinch-hitting, had crushed a homer.
"Those guys are dead serious."
The starter had been pulled long ago. The pitcher who just gave up the homer was the Pistols' third of the day, slumped on the mound.
"Heh heh heh..."
Manager Park Deoksu, looking enlightened despite the insurmountable lead, gave the order.
"Get Yunha ready."
"For real?"
The pitching coach blinked in surprise, but...
"Then what? It's Children's Day— you gonna just hand them a lifeless game?!"
The old-school manager roared back. He took "special games" like Children's Day seriously.
"Yes sir! Right away!"
The coach headed to the bullpen, instructing the puzzled Pistols closer Jeong Yunha to warm up.
Thwack!!
"Out!"
Thankfully, the third pitcher escaped without further damage. Plenty of time for Jeong Yunha to loosen up.
'...Winning's a stretch, honestly.'
Park Deoksu wasn't out of touch with reality. He wasn't senile enough to think they could chase down this deficit.
'And Jin Yuha's an innings eater extraordinaire.'
The Titans' super ace devoured innings too. So all he hoped for was...
'Just one run... one run against him.'
Anything to deny him another historic mark.
'How many records have we already surrendered?'
The scoreless top of the first. 11 straight strikeouts.
'And now consecutive scoreless innings?'
Just imagining it was nightmare fuel.
'Single-game strikeout record too? Shit, not that one.'
And there were more Jin Yuha could claim—ones tied to a Pistols pitcher, no less.
'Foreign hire, but still...'
The merc was still a fan symbol, invoked whenever their imports slumped.
"Hm?"
Snapping from his thoughts, Park Deoksu noticed the dugout stirring.
"Alright, everyone gather up."
One player was rallying the team.
"Just a quick word."
It was Oh Seungjin.
As they took the field, sensing defeat and wearing gloomy faces, Oh Seungjin's eyes caught something in the outfield stands.
"Hng..."
Specifically, a teary-eyed kid in a Pistols uniform.
'That's my jersey.'
Even as a mid-season acquisition, the kid wore one with Oh Seungjin's name.
"Ah."
It hit him hard. Even as a FA vet, it stung.
'Embarrassing.'
He was ashamed of himself, unlike the kid still cheering through tears.
"Pistols fighting!"
So...
"Everyone, get your heads straight and focus on the game!"
Out of character, he called the team huddle.
'Ugh... This ain't my style.'
Chicken skin prickled his arms, but he kept going.
"It's Children's Day. No one wants to look pathetic in front of the kids, right?"
Even if they lost.
"The fans are cheering—don't quit before they do."
He had to say it: give it your all.
"Yes sir!!"
Thankfully, it landed. He saw fire return to their nodding eyes.
"That's it—the fire I wanted from you."
Park Deoksu patted Oh Seungjin's shoulder, pleased.
"Haha... Isn't this your job, old man? You're slacking."
"Tch, don't want it? Give back half your salary. We pay big for dugout leadership... Huh?"
"Huh?"
CRACK!!
"Whoaaa! Hit! Hit! Old man, a real hit!!"
- WAAAAAAAAH!!
A few away fans cheered the hitter wildly.
"Time!"
Jeong Hanseong called time and jogged to the mound.
"What's up?"
"Just... came out 'cause they got a hit. Pistols hitters seem a bit different now."
"Yeah?"
Catcher's the closest position to the batters. He wasn't wrong.
But.
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Huh?"
"You think that'll let them beat me?"
"..."
Silent, he smirked faintly.
"Nah, no way."
Mere resolve wouldn't change the truth: they couldn't touch me.
"See? He's human! Not some secret baseball robot Jin Yusung cooked up—he's flesh and blood! We can figure him out!"
Oh Seungjin fired up the dugout.
Thwack!
The follow-up hitter laid down a perfect sac bunt: one out, runner to second. Scoring position.
"We got this!"
Heat built in the Pistols dugout.
Thud!!
"Strike three!"
The next batter whiffed on three pitches.
Crack!!
"Out!"
The last went down on a pop fly, ending the inning—but the fire lingered.
Unlike the top of the first, where they flailed helplessly into strikeouts, now there was a glimmer of hope.
Thud!!
"Strike three!"
Thwack!
"Out!"
Crack!!
"Out!"
He's human—he'd give up a run eventually.
Thud!!
"Strike three!"
Someday.
Whiff!!
"Swing strike three!"
Surely.
Thwack!!
"Out."
And so top of the 7th ended. Scoreless.
"Damn you, no sportsmanship! Don't you pity our fans?!"
Oh Seungjin wailed.