Birthday Strikeout: Son vs. Legend
Thursday, the day after Event Ivan failed to even complete five innings and got pulled early, handing the Titans a loss. Luckily, there was no reason for Mia to get mad.
Baek Jeongsu, our starter, led with a sweeper that was getting sharper by the day, delivering a high-quality start with seven innings of just two runs allowed.
"Hmm, not bad at all."
My uncle in the stands nodded in approval at that dominant outing, which carried the team to victory.
"Jack, you know how sickening it is to see you trying to act all serious after retiring?"
"Shut it."
"Well, yeah, your head's getting lighter by the day, so you gotta put on some weight in your attitude at least."
"Looks like you've forgotten the taste of my fist since it's been so long, little bro."
"Why the hell am I your little bro?"
"In Korea, don't they call the younger sister's husband 'little bro'?"
That day's game saw the full turnout from what folks call the Jin Yuha family—or the Jin Yusung family—in the stands. The reason they came all the way from Seoul to Busan?
"Yuha, you're rejoining the team tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah, Mom."
Tomorrow was Friday, the day my suspension ended.
"Pitching on your birthday? The team must really be taking good care of you."
May 19th, the Saturday I was scheduled to start, was my birthday.
"Huh? Son, why are you staring at me?"
"Nothing, Dad."
I was already looking forward to it.
The call from Manager Jeong Hyeonho came late Wednesday night after the game.
"Yuha, you feeling good?"
"Never better."
"Yeah, you looked good. I saw the articles."
"Haha, really?"
I laughed it off casually—dating wasn't anything to be ashamed of, after all.
"So, I start right away on my return day?"
I jumped straight to asking about my schedule.
"Nah. Jaewoong's going Friday. You're Saturday starter."
Honestly, that surprised me.
James Gilbert and I—our two aces—had unintentionally skipped rotations.
The team's been doing fine without us, but...
The Titans had posted solid results even in the worst scenarios.
"Isn't the bullpen under a ton of strain right now?"
With starters not eating innings, the relievers were getting burned out.
Park Haesung barely got through five... Ivan didn't even make it that far.
And if Gwak Jaewoong started Friday, that'd be him on four days' rest. No disrespect, but as our fifth starter, it was risky.
We wouldn't have a choice if there weren't options, but I'm right here?
"It's your birthday Saturday."
Out of left field.
"Yeah... it is?"
"The front office is prepping a huge birthday event for you."
That made sense once I heard it.
"That's not all. Your record innings of consecutive scoreless, most consecutive Ks, single-game K record—tons to celebrate."
Looking back, I'd racked up a lot in May.
Most from single games, though.
I was just grateful to the Pistols.
"Whole family's in Korea, right? Talked to Yusung already."
When'd he call him?
"Yusung's doing the ceremonial swing."
Then...
"Uncle for the pitch?"
Obvious guess. When else would you see those two throwing and swinging in Korea? But...
"Nope."
"Mia then?"
"I'd love to see that... but no."
Not Mia either.
"Who then?"
Manager Jeong Hyeonho's voice brimmed with amusement over the phone.
"You're the pitcher. Fun, right?"
"Me?"
"You pitch. Full at-bat showdown."
Hmm.
"Is that allowed?"
"Our park, our rules. What can anyone do?"
The weekend home series opponent was the Incheon Fighters.
Friday's game ended in our win. Gwak Jaewoong shut them out for six scoreless despite my worries, and counting the previous sweep, we had four straight over the Fighters. But...
Less Jaewoong being great and more...
"Makes sense. Yoon Sung crashing his career with that DUI."
Park Cheongwon, volunteering as bullpen catcher and taking my pregame tosses, explained it that way on my start day.
"Guy's a jerk personality-wise, but he's the Fighters' spiritual pillar. Long career, great stats."
Their franchise star and homegrown ace got hit with a huge suspension for drunk driving—out for the season. The fallout was massive.
Crack!!
"Nice ball."
Anyway, right now...
Dad matchup's got me more nervous.
Excluding childhood, I'd never dueled Dad seriously.
That's how I learned competition's ruthlessness early.
As I'd mentioned once, Dad hit homers off me even when I was just learning to grip a ball properly. So...
Taking a retired legend seriously and aiming to beat him wasn't wrong at all. That's what he taught me.
"Gonna get revenge on Yusung hyung?"
"Nah."
"Happy birthday to Titans' Jin Yuha!"
Before the game, a team staffer handed me flowers with birthday wishes over the mic.
"And record consecutive scoreless innings, most consecutive Ks, single-game K record... whew, so much to celebrate. Congrats on all the milestones anyway!"
The Titans wore special uniforms—not our regulars—for my records. Commemorative edition.
No input from me, but...
'Record Breaker' on the sleeve was kinda embarrassing.
"Thank you. I'll give it my all on the mound today."
Thanks to the team and fans.
Thump thump! Clap! Thump thump! Clap!
My entrance music kicked in, and I started warm-up tosses.
Crack!!
Crack!!
My music faded, replaced by an old-school hip-hop beat echoing through the stadium.
Vrooom!!
A guy in a Titans uniform was practicing swings in the on-deck circle, timing my pitches.
- Rooooar!!!!
The jumbotron lit up with him, unleashing massive cheers.
It was Dad.
I'll throw with everything I've got, Dad.
Time to settle the score.
Clomp clomp.
Jin Yusung sauntered to the plate with a cocky stride, but inside...
Oh man... this is bad.
Yuha looks dead serious up there.
His son's gaze from the mound was intensely focused.
Tap tap.
At the plate, Jin Yusung tapped the bat on the corner of home plate.
Should've thrown a game when he was a kid...
A lifetime baseball man—or longer—his mind swirled with doubts, but routines kicked in mechanically.
Grip.
Bat tight, stance set—doubts vanished.
Right. I'm Jin Yusung.
MLB legend with four career MVPs. The great one everyone acknowledged.
Getting intimidated by his barely-19 son? Not like him. Sure, the kid wasn't your average 19-year-old...
Ball's round—anything can happen. 100 mph? I've crushed plenty.
An old man could still beat a young buck. But...
Whoosh!!
My first pitch rocketed in.
Crack!!
The mitt popped loud as it hit.
"Huh..."
His confidence evaporated.
163 km/h
"Hanseong, uh... no center-up fastball?"
"I'm just catching, sorry."
Jin Yusung regretted his past self, cackling after homering off little Yuha.
First pitch: clean strike. Dad didn't even flinch.
Can't be helped. Even the best hitter can't beat age.
But...
No letting guard down.
Dad had impressive stats even in his retirement year. Great against 100+ mph too.
Crushed Cy Young winner who was just shedding rookie status back then.
My delivery actually resembled a pitcher who debuted around Dad's later years.
Got compared a lot.
ROY and All-Star debut, Cy Young next—ace on a bad team with crap luck. Even careers mirrored.
They called me the second coming till I went two-way.
Tap tap.
Hanseong's sign.
Whoosh!!
Quick tempo, as always.
The ball dove toward the bottom-outside corner.
Vrooom!
Dad's bat whipped out fast for his age on his favorite old course, but...
Oh.
It dropped sharp in front.
Tick!
"Foul!"
Barely controlled the 153 km/h splitter into a foul.
Thud!
Dad spun a full circle in the box and collapsed, glaring at me.
Two strikes.
Hmm... eyes aren't what they used to be.
Dad's late career was like that: power intact, but lost plate discipline—early .200s average with 40 bombs.
Making contact on that splitter? Legend for a reason.
I'd expected a whiff.
Tap tap.
Plenty of pitches for old Dad. I've got a whole arsenal. But...
That'd be overkill...
Blasting every pitch to beat Dad once? Kinda embarrassing.
Already threw splitter, so...
My choice:
Four-Seam
Hanseong nodded, mitt out.
Stretch.
Showed Dad the four-seam grip on my right hand pre-pitch. Son's courtesy.
"Ha..."
Dad didn't seem thrilled.
Whoosh!!
Last pitch of this so-called ceremony rocketed to the plate.
Vrooom!!
Knowing it was coming, Dad unleashed a pro-level explosive swing.
Could start in KBO tomorrow at that level.
But not enough for my stuff.
Crack!!
Beat the bat to the mitt.
"Swing!! Strike!! Out!!"
The ump, hyped, bellowed the K call.
"Hahaha!"
Learned a Korean saying here: A gentleman's revenge is never too late, even after ten years.
Unbelievable.
Dragging out an MLB legend for a "ceremony" full at-bat? Son on mound going full throttle to fan his dad?
Titans set the table, Yuha owned it—or he was nuts.
"Fuck... how do you even hit that?"
Problem: they had to face the nutjob.
The Fighters' batters were shell-shocked.