49. Just Fucking Hold On (3)
The words I heard most from Manager Jeong Hyeonho lately were simple.
"Yuha, do it!"
"I'm just a rookie—aren't you putting too much pressure on me?"
"You're not just a rookie."
That was Manager Jeong Hyeonho's official declaration: the Titans' June strategy, 【Just Fucking Hold On】. At its core were me and James Gilbert.
"Sangwoo put on a surprise show in his first start, but realistically, we can only expect about four innings from him. You and James have to eat up as many innings as possible."
For the entire month of June, James and I couldn't settle for just minimizing runs. To give the bullpen proper rest, we had to pitch deep into games.
Someone might complain that in this era, it's too much to ask of aces.
"Is that so..."
But who am I? A starter who'd rarely failed to go the distance so far.
"Just keep doing what you've been doing."
The manager's request was straightforward.
"Haha... yeah. Just do what you've been doing."
He let out a hollow chuckle at my confident vibe.
"Ugh... I was kinda hoping for something more romantic, though."
A flicker of subtle dissatisfaction crossed his face.
"Romantic?"
"Yeah. Like, I say 'I beg you!' and you go 'Ma! Let's give it a shot!' or something."
"Oh."
It was a story Jeong Hanseong had told me recently. His KBO crash course was still going strong.
"I don't wear glasses, though."
"Tch, fair point."
For a chat between a manager and his starter on the mound, it was pretty silly. That must've meant how much he trusted me.
"Tsk, whatever with you, Yuha—the lineup's the real issue."
"Oh, their starter today is Harold, right?"
The Rangers' starter was the problem.
Harold Gallen. Last year's top pitcher in the Eastern League. And...
"We're really weak against that guy. Last time we faced him, we couldn't score in eight innings."
To the Titans, he was a nightmare.
"No way he's going nine innings, right?"
If he did...
"I'd go ten. Whatever."
Obviously a joke.
The Jamsil Dome—home to both the Rangers and Guardians—is huge.
Crack!!
Titans' No. 2 hitter, senior Kang Gihoo, unleashed a fearless swing that traced a massive arc.
Thud-thud.
But center fielder Son Myungwoo shifted quickly and snagged it right at the wall.
"Aw, so close. Anywhere else, that would've been gone."
Harold Gallen, the type who induces fly balls, matched perfectly with the spacious Jamsil Dome.
"Their outfielders are solid on D."
And the Rangers' outfielders all had quick feet. No wonder their nickname was the Track Team.
With speedy legs, the Rangers' Track Team covered every corner of the vast Jamsil outfield, putting on airtight defense.
Crack!!
Even No. 3 hitter Frank Rodriguez popped out to right. Top of the first was over.
"Hanseong. Let's go."
Now it was my turn on the mound.
Plenty of teams wanted revenge on Jin Yuha.
The Warriors, Carvers, Rhinos, Rangers—teams we'd shut out in routine complete games. The Pistols, Fighters—ones who'd suffered complete games plus huge milestones. And the Dragons, resenting him for entirely different reasons.
Basically, every team that had faced Jin Yuha wanted payback—except those who hadn't yet. The Guardians, who'd held him to seven scoreless (barely "holding" by the chatter)—might be the lone exception.
'Heard some Dragons crazies are even taking boxing lessons.'
Rumors were just rumors. Sure, the Dragons were infamous for ugly antics, but pro ballplayers ditching baseball for boxing? Nah.
"...Those guys might actually do it."
Song Hanil, from the Rangers' lifetime .300 trio and usual cleanup hitter with pop, thought the rumor held water as he pictured the Dragons roster.
Anyway. Lots of teams craved revenge on Jin Yuha, but few extended that to his teammate and personal catcher, Jeong Hanseong. Hanseong was putting up solid numbers for a high school rookie catcher—but still, just your average one.
The Rangers were probably the only ones gunning for him too.
"Hoo... Jeong Hanseong..."
For Song Hanil especially, Hanseong burned hotter than Yuha. He'd been the guy who'd turned Hanseong's debut start into a showcase—got on base, tried to steal, but got gunned down by the kid's cannon arm.
"Revenge time at last. Gonna rattle his soul."
One thing Song Hanil hadn't considered, though.
Thwack!!
"Strike three!"
"Ah..."
To steal, you had to get on base first.
'Big outfield usually favors pitchers, sure...'
But not always a slam dunk. Wide outfield meant more ground for outfielders to cover.
'Especially for our team lately—could be a liability.'
Like Tuesday against the Carvers, when my two runs came from left fielder Kim Taeyong's misplay.
'So today's pitching plan...'
Thwack!!
"Strike!"
Whirr!!
"Swinging strike!"
Thwack!!
"Strike three!"
Strikeouts.
Crack!!
"Hoytcha!"
Whoosh!! Thwack!!
"Out!"
And grounders.
Leadoff Son Myungwoo: three pitches, three strikes. No. 2 Lee Geonmin: shortstop grounder. Two quick outs.
Next up: Song Hanil. For some reason, glaring hotter at Hanseong than me.
'...He doesn't wanna end up like the Dragons, does he?'
Of course Song Hanil didn't want to be like the Dragons. He wasn't a thug like them anyway.
'...Those guys still haven't come back from injuries.'
He knew the Dragons players who'd clashed with Jin Yuha were still sidelined. Yang Soyeol, missing front teeth? Career over.
"Hooo..."
Song Hanil wanted legit payback: steal successfully off the battery that had nabbed him before.
'Gotta get on first.'
But getting on against Jin Yuha? Not easy.
"Does that guy never get tired?"
A mutter slipped out.
"Right?"
A reply came from home plate.
"Eats all the good stuff alone—never tires, I swear."
Jeong Hanseong.
'This punk...'
The young catcher, once too busy calling signs to chat, now bantered with hitters like a sly vet.
'Barely a month? And limited starts...'
Not good news for a guy dreaming revenge.
And worse.
"You know what? His place is stocked with spicy ramen. But the dude can't handle spice."
Hanseong kept yapping.
"Asked why a spice-hater has all that ramen—guess what? 'Mia likes it.' You know Mia?"
Tap-tap.
Even snuck pitch-comm signs slyly.
Thwack!!
"Strike!"
Distracted by the kid's antics, he lost focus—first pitch strike.
'Damn... Cheongwon hyung trained a real successor.'
Song Hanil called time and stepped out.
'First pitch four-seam, as expected. Shit, was aiming for that...'
Plan foiled. Yuha's stuff was nasty, but Hanseong contributed too.
"Jeez."
He was stunned.
'Some Titans fan said the East stays Titans' playground for years...'
Might be true.
"Won't back down easy, though."
Thwack!!
"Strike three!"
[Nothing beats a tense pitchers' duel over a slugfest.]
[True. Soyanghyeon, you were an ace in your day—what do you make of these two?]
[Eh, what can I judge? Both are way better than me.]
[So humble, Soyanghyeon.]
[Haha, serious. But gotta say something— that's why I'm here.]
[Exactly.]
[Huh?]
"What do you think?"
"Headache. It's just fastballs and curves, right? Why can't we hit 'em?"
"Speed?"
"Still slower than Yuha."
"That's what makes Yuha special."
"Fair."
Titans dugout, hitters chatting.
"...Another K?"
"Victor said Jin Yuha's a reptilian. Ignored it forever, but now... maybe."
"What? Victor—you mean you, Victor?"
"Fighters' Victor? Guy's got a rep for being weird."
"Yuha's the real weirdo."
"Fr, ball's in the zone—why miss?"
"Hit it easy, he posts this year."
Rangers dugout, hitters griping.
Crack!!
"Out!"
Harold Gallen's high heat generated routine outs from Titans bats.
Crack!!
"Out!"
Jin Yuha's quick pitches melted the Rangers.
"...Why isn't that guy in MLB? All that comeback talk last year?"
"Why pick KBO? With that talent, should've gone straight to the States with Dad."
The teams' hitters lamented as the game rolled on.
The scoreboard was filled with nothing but zeros.