42. Event (4)
Fighters manager Kim Unhyeon didn't hate the Titans. It was only natural.
No player hates the team where they spent their prime, unless the breakup was particularly ugly. Sure, even in the season when he hit .300 with 30 homers and 100 RBIs, the fans called him trash for failing to make the playoffs, and that had given him a massive headache. But his time with the Titans remained a fond memory even now.
However.
"Coach. I think I'm starting to hate the Titans starting today."
After today, he felt like he might actually start hating them.
"Me too."
His chief coach felt the same way.
"Haa..."
The massive scoreboard at Shin Sajik Baseball Stadium displayed the harsh truth plainly.
"We're in deep shit."
During the six innings Jin Yuha had pitched, the Fighters hadn't managed a single hit.
"Are we seriously gonna get no-hit shut out like this?"
"Fuck, that'd be too embarrassing."
"...Should we at least try a bunt?"
"Hey, no way. This is Sajik. You'd get killed."
The opposing dugout might be avoiding talk of the no-hitter out of superstition, but that had nothing to do with the Fighters. They were the ones constantly reminding the pitcher he was working on a no-hitter, desperately trying to break through.
"His fastball's still hitting 160 km/h."
"Hyung, that guy's throwing 160 in the ninth too."
"Is that even human?"
"Fxck, that's not human. Jin Yusung's a reptilian, and his son Jin Yuha is too—that shit was real!"
"What the hell's Victor saying?"
"Ignore him. The guy's a flat-Earther."
They were trying, at least.
"Still, it's not all bad, right?"
The chief coach forced a smile, glancing carefully at Manager Kim Unhyeon to cheer him up.
"Yeah, true."
He wasn't wrong.
"Never expected Jin Woo to pitch this well."
The replacement starter they'd had no hopes for had gone five innings. Sure, he'd given up four runs, but for an inexperienced guy, it was solid. Manager Kim Unhyeon planned to give him a few more looks.
'Come to think of it, didn't the GM say he was scouting starters?'
Starting pitchers were precious commodities. No team would trade one from their current rotation.
'Even if they did, it'd be someone on Jin Woo's level.'
Manager Kim Unhyeon would rather the trade fall through. Fat chance, though.
'We're a win-now team.'
Even if they'd lost the ace at the heart of that win-now push.
Thwack!!
"Strike three!"
While lost in thought, the bottom of the sixth ended. High school rookie Nam Hansu had shut down the Titans' lineup scoreless.
"That kid's got it rough too. Sucks to be in the same rookie class as Jin Yuha."
Nam Hansu, the rookie who'd made the opening roster and posted a sub-3.00 ERA in middle relief. Still, his odds of winning Rookie of the Year were slim to none.
The award had long been narrowed to Titans teammates Kang Gihoo and Jin Yuha, with Yuha at a near-99.9% lock.
"...Rookie of the Year? At this rate, he'll snag MVP too."
Thwack!!
The top Rookie of the Year—and MVP—contender, Jin Yuha, took the mound.
"Strike!"
The first pitch was, of course, a strike.
Top of the seventh.
Thwack!!
"Strike!"
He quickly ran up an 0-2 count on leadoff hitter Namgung Seong.
'His first at-bat was just a fluke mistake. This is the norm.'
I still regretted that first matchup. Without it, I could've gone for the perfect game.
'A no-hitter, though...'
They're not that rare. MLB's had over 300. I'd thrown three myself before regressing.
'What about the KBO?'
I knew Sim Chando of the Guardians had one a few years back. My high school, Seoul High, was in Seoul as the name implied, so most of the baseball team rooted for local teams.
'Fans lost their minds.'
Guardians fans screamed, "As expected of Korea's ace, Sim Chando!" Rangers and Wolves fans dismissed him as "just a 150 km/h junkballer."
Crack!!
"Out!"
Jeong Hanseong, sprinting to snag the foul fly, was one of the former.
'Three generations of Guardians fans, he said?'
Freshman year. When we first met on the team, he'd told me, "I wanna be a pitcher like Sim Chando."
'Not knowing that was basically an insult to me.'
Thwick!
"Foul!"
Thwick!
"Foul!"
No. 2 hitter Victor kept fouling pitches off.
'What's his deal?'
He gripped the bat short, eyes wide with fear.
'Just trying to poke a single?'
Hmm.
'Is that smart?'
The Fighters' lineup, Victor included, thrived on power—except Namgung Seong. But.
'They're abandoning their strength here?'
Prioritizing breaking the no-hitter over a big hit?
'But you guys can't do that.'
Contact hitters can't swing like sluggers, and sluggers struggle with compact swings—they've never had to. Which meant.
Crack!!
"Out!"
Thwick!
"Out!"
The Fighters' strategy was doomed from the start.
Whoooosh!!
"Swinging strike three!"
Crack!!
"Out!"
Craaaack!!
"Out!"
[...Top of the eighth flies by. Jin Yuha strikes out the leadoff man on three pitches, induces first-pitch groundouts from the next two, and saves his pitch count heading to the ninth.]
"Tch, they pussied out."
Jin Yusung clicked his tongue at the Fighters players.
"Too fixated on breaking the no-hitter. What a shame."
He sounded sympathetic, but one corner of his mouth was curled up.
"Keeping the pitcher's condition steady is."
"Drag it out if he looks gassed, speed through if not to keep momentum."
"How's Yuha looking?"
"You call that a question? Howard's fresh off rest. Stamina's no issue."
The bottom of the eighth played out just as they said. The Titans' top order flailed uncharacteristically, racking up outs.
Then.
- Waaaaah!!
The moment of truth: top of the ninth.
Fighters manager Kim Unhyeon planned to burn pinch hitters to spoil the no-hitter. But.
Whoooosh!!
"Swinging strike three!"
[Jin Yuha's sweeper dances away from home plate, evading Ko Jeong-min's bat!]
Ko Jeong-min, who hit .340 as a pinch hitter, whiffed on the sweeper for the first out.
[...Another pinch hitter.]
Crack!!
[157 km/h! Jin Yuha's two-seamer still has insane velocity—it's tailing! Grounder! Third baseman Yoon Gangyeol charges, fields, and fires to first!]
"Out!"
Park Hangwang, with over five homers off righties this year, grounded out to third for out number two.
And finally.
"Grown so much, Howard..."
Jack Gordon, who'd mentored his nephew-turned-son-figure, got nostalgic.
'Wonder how many no-hitters this is for Yuha.'
Jin Yusung, in on his son's secret, suspected, 'No-hitters probably don't even faze him.'
- Out! Out! Out! Out!
Home fans filled the stadium, chanting for the final out.
The last at-bat began.
Thwack!!
"Strike!"
[First pitch: four-seam! 160 km/h lasers into the corner! Jegal shakes his head.]
[Tough to time 160 right off the bat as a pinch hitter. But Jegal can't back down—he needs a result!]
One strike.
Craaaack!!
[Thunderous swing! Massive contact—it's going deep toward the wall!!!]
"Foul!"
[...But hooks foul down the line! Foul ball!]
[Jegal's impressive too. Laid off Yuha's first curve of the day like he was waiting. Titans battery's gotta rethink now.]
Two strikes.
Thump thump.
Contrary to commentator Park Woo-hyuk's words, the rookie battery exchanged signs and fired.
Whoosh!!
[Yuha's third pitch flies toward the plate—low zone!]
Whoooosh!!
[Jegal swings for the fences again!]
Going all-in, Jegal sensed it.
'Fucked.'
[Drops off the plate—splitter! Titans go splitter!]
Crack!!
A weak roller scooted toward the mound. I fielded it, flipped it off my glove, and tossed to first.
Thwack!!
"Out!"
[Casual flip to first—game over!]
- Waaaaaaaah!!
The crowd erupted.
"You crazy bastard!"
Teammates mobbed the mound.
"Hold up!"
I pushed away charging announcer Jang Mun-woo's head and looked to the stands.
"Yu!!!!"
There was Mia, bouncing with excitement. The perfect birthday gift.