Manners and Etiquette (2)
“Yuha, thanks. I feel so much better thanks to you.”
Unlike just moments ago when he'd been tense as hell, Baek Jihun hyung was back to his usual self, expressing his gratitude.
“Nah, it was nothing. No big deal.”
“No way. You really saved my ass. Man, those guys are such vicious bastards.”
His face twisted like he was still shuddering at the thought.
“How was it when you were with the Titans?”
“A nightmare. They'd lose a game and go straight to boozing it up every time, always late to practice, and in the dugout? Busy playing king of the hill.”
He clearly had a ton of grudges.
“Lucky the team shipped them off somewhere else. Otherwise, there might not even be a star shortstop Baek Jihun on the Titans.”
“Yeah?”
Well, now.
“Good thing, huh.”
“Right? And get this—they ended up on a team just like them. Those guys.”
Huh?
“The Dragons?”
“Yeah. The Dragons have that rep.”
I tilted my head.
“Oh! Right, you don't know much about the KBO, do you, Yuha?”
“Pretty much.”
I'd crammed a crash course, but there was still a lot I didn't know.
Jeong Hanseong didn't say much either.
He'd just fed me wrong info about the Titans being buddy-buddy.
“Hmm… The Dragons are dirty and sneaky, in a nutshell.”
Surprisingly ordinary phrasing.
“Like the Rangers?”
The Rangers, who loved steals and tactics, got that rep too.
“Nah, different vibe.”
Baek Jihun hyung shook his head firmly.
“Those guys play filthy.”
And with that, he launched into a litany of the Dragons' countless dirty tricks he'd witnessed.
“Sliding with murder tackles, intentional beanballs, picking fights on purpose, ignoring rookies…”
“Oof.”
These days, teams like that were rare. Pro ball clubs tried to show their best side to fans.
This kind of baseball was definitely...
“Old-school, right?”
“Yeah. Like, really old-school.”
“All because of the manager.”
The Dragons' manager? Right.
“Jo Du-hyeon?”
“Spot on. Same age as Park Deok-su of the Pistols. Been their skipper from day one till now.”
With their record like that, how'd he keep the job so long?
“Rumor is the owner loves him. Who knows if it's true.”
“Probably is, high odds.”
“Anyway, unlike Park Deok-su, that old man's a real relic.”
Park Deok-su had turned out nicer than expected. He'd come straight to the mound after I shut them out on Children's Day, full of praise and encouragement.
His mouth was foul as hell, though.
Whereas...
“Jo Du-hyeon? Win-at-all-costs mentality, no matter what.”
“So the Dragons' team color is all him.”
“Bingo.”
Win-at-all-costs, huh. But weren't the Dragons the ones who couldn't even win?
“Anyway, you'll handle it fine, Yuha, but watch your back.”
“No clue what might go down today—should I catch?”
Right before game time, Park Cheongwon hyung voiced the same worry.
But surprisingly, the game flowed without incident.
Bwoooong!!
“Strikeout!”
The Titans' leadoff, Jeong Su-young hyung, whiffed on Yang So-yeol's changeup, fooled clean.
Thwack!!
But No. 2, Kang Gihoo hyung, crushed a 142 km straight fastball over the wall for the early lead.
Thwack!!
Frank Rodriguez, not used to sidearmers, ripped one off the fence for second.
Thwak!!
But cleanup, Oh Dae-su hyung, fouled off a two-seamer weakly.
Plop.
The Dragons' shortstop snagged the grounder with light steps, holding Frank at second.
Whoosh!!
Casual toss to first.
Smack!!
“Out!”
Oh Dae-su hyung, older and never speedy even in his prime, became the out.
Two outs, runner on second.
Pat-pat.
Targeting the sidearm's classic weakness, Frank boldly stole second.
Slide.
“Safe!”
The Titans, riding the momentum with Frank sliding headfirst into third, tried to keep it going.
But...
Bwoooong!!
“Swinging strikeout!”
Yoon Kang-yeol hyung showed some hometown love, ending the inning.
“Hmm.”
A clean inning—no “dirty” or “sneaky” stuff.
The hyungs wouldn't hype it for nothing.
Two ex-Titans had even come to the dugout pre-game picking fights.
No way they backed off because of that.
But as soon as the bottom of the first started...
“Whoa...”
I instantly got why the Dragons had such a bad rep among players.
Ptooey!
The Dragons' leadoff spat on the ground, glaring at me with beady eyes. Filthy.
Ptooey!
Jeong Hanseong wrinkled his nose at the opposing batter spitting toward home plate.
What a manners-less prick.
But he couldn't call it out loud. Rookies fresh out of high school didn't get to do that.
Yuha'd ram it right back, though.
Just look at what he'd done to Yang So-yeol's bullshit pre-game antics.
“Ah.”
Still, gripes he couldn't voice...
“Ump, the Dragons guy is sneaking and wiping the batter's box line.”
He could report the batter's cheating.
“Hey, rookie punk acting all high and mighty. You think I'd do that on purpose, sir? My bad.”
The Dragons leadoff, the actual cheat, flipped out instead.
“I saw it too. Watch it.”
But the home plate ump didn't buy it.
Okay, ump's fair—checked.
Hanseong sighed inwardly in relief. Good, today's head ump seemed straight.
“Tch. Sorry.”
The batter half-ass bowed to the ump, then crowded the plate tight for his stance.
This... their plan?
Hanseong had a hunch about the Dragons' strategy today.
Try to force mistakes from me or Yuha?
Spitting at home on his way up. Boldly scraping the box line to get under our skin. Hugging the plate to make us bean-shy.
All to pressure the Titans' battery. Might work on average high school rookies.
But.
Tap-tap.
Yuha, naturally. And Hanseong was no ordinary high school rookie either.
— Fastball
First pitch sign: fastball, obviously.
— High-inside
Location: high-inside to the body.
Pfft.
Yuha smirked short at the sign, nodded. Then.
Whoosh!!
The fastest ball in the KBO right now screamed toward home.
“Eek!!”
The batter, spooked like it was gonna drill him, screamed and...
Thud-crash.
Fell on his ass.
Smack!!
“Strike!”
Damn, I'd have died of embarrassment.
Hanseong grinned behind the mask.
“Fuck... that's a strike?”
A hint of fear flickered on the muttering batter's face.
Tryna play games.
Truth was, the Titans' rookie battery weren't exactly angels.
What an idiot.
I'd thought crowding the plate meant ballsy. Nope, total coward.
To pressure the pitcher, you gotta stand still even if it looks like it'll hit.
Old term for that was eggnam, right? Scaredy-cat.
Smack!!
“Strike!”
The Dragons' eggnam rolled on the dirt once, then spaced out like his soul left.
Smack!!
“Strike three!”
Stood there dumb, whiffing on three.
Easy matchups kept coming.
Bwoooong!!
“Swinging strikeout!”
No. 2 flailed wildly at nothing, turning fan.
Thwak!!
“Out!”
No. 3 called time right before release to mess with me, became ground fairy.
“Dragons came gunning to rattle us today.”
“Yeah? Seemed like pointless crap.”
“Pointless?”
“What, no?”
“True.”
Top of the second.
No. 6 and starting left fielder Kim Tae-yong hyung was a tweener. Defense not quite center-field caliber. Bat not quite corner-outfield level either.
Heard Hyeon Myeongun GM took heat for it. Tae-yong's spot used to be Byeon Jae-yu's, now the Dragons' cleanup.
Thwack!!
Tae-yong hyung's long ball exploded first AB.
“Safe!”
Headfirst slide into second, thumping his chest—memorable.
Tick!
No. 7, Baek Jihun hyung, clean sac bunt.
One out, runner on third. RBI spot.
At the plate: Jeong Hanseong, No. 8, swinging hot lately.
Not an easy matchup.
Sidearmers tough on righties. Extra for green ones like Hanseong. He'd never hit a sidearmer.
But just gotta bring him home, right?
Hanseong could handle that much. I watched.
Whoosh!!
Sidearm fastball with signature heavy movement toward home.
““Huh?””
Confused groans from the dugout.
Smack!
“Ugh!”
HBP.
“Hmm...”
Hanseong groaned, hit in the back. I pondered.
Intentional? Kinda feels like it...
Tough call. Sidearmers hit righties inside often by nature.
For now...
One ball, one strike? Wait, HBP counts as ball? No, anyway.
Thwak!!
“Out!”
Hanseong's HBP loaded one out, bases with runners on first and third—but No. 9, Hwang Do-yang hyung, hit into a double play.
“Throws strikes, huh.”
Yang So-yeol: undersized sidearmer under 170 cm, sub-4 ERA starter. Had skills.
Personality's the trash part.
Game flew by.
I stretched my scoreless streak to 55 innings.
Thwack!!
Meanwhile, Kang Gihoo hyung went back-to-back bombs, opening a 3-run lead.
And.
Smack!!
“Ugh.”
Hanseong took another HBP in his second AB.
“Ha.”
Two strikes.
Bottom of the fifth.
Byeon Jae-yu's at-bat.
Whoosh!!
First-pitch fastball.
Bwoooong!!
Jae-yu swung viciously, bat...
“Aaaagh!!”
Cracked Hanseong's skull.
Three strikes. They're out.
“Urgh... I'm fine.”
Hanseong, down then up, signaled to the dugout he was okay. Trainers paused at his wave, benched held.
And.
Tap-tap.
Hanseong casually signed like nothing. I ignored it, mashed the PitchCom.
— Fastball
— Fastball
— Fastball
— Fastball
Hanseong froze at the barrage, nodded, mitt out.
Whoosh!!
I fired, straight—not to the mitt, to Jae-yu's back.
Smack!!
163 km drilled his upper back dead-on.
“Urgh...”
Jae-yu crumpled before screaming.
“Hey! What the hell was that?!”
Noise from Dragons' dugout.
Gloved hand flicked to first. Get to first, quick.
“This psycho!”
Players poured from the Dragons' side onto the field.