End of the First Half (3)
'This is my first time facing Jin Yuha, but I've already analyzed him pretty thoroughly. I'm confident I can crack him.'
The words from Irons manager Lee Jungyu in the pre-game interview were half bravado. In other words, half of it was genuine.
And then.
"What the hell is going on here..."
All the meticulous analysis the Irons had prepared on Jin Yuha went straight into the trash the moment the game began.
"Why's he throwing so many curves?"
"...No idea."
The Jin Yuha they'd analyzed was supposed to be...
"Didn't we say he throws more pitches with horizontal movement?"
Of course, Jin Yuha threw a variety of pitches, but his favorite was always the one with that sweeping horizontal break. That's why the batters had prepared for the game based on that analysis.
But.
"Curves out of nowhere..."
In the top of the first, Jin Yuha used the curve as his putaway pitch in every at-bat. In short.
"We're screwed."
Manager Lee Jungyu suddenly felt a pang of regret.
Did I jinx it by bragging that the analysis was done?
He wondered if Jin Yuha had changed things up after seeing his interview.
"You see that?"
"See what?"
"My curve."
"..."
Of course, Jin Yuha had no idea about Manager Lee Jungyu's interview. The reason he was leaning hard on curves today was simple.
"Didn't you say you couldn't throw curves?"
"Yeah. And this is me not being able to."
"...What?"
"Even a curve this bad is better than yours."
"You little shit."
It was all to mess with Travis Turner, his old teammate turned new one.
"Whoa... I didn't know Yuha had this side to him. He's still putting on that polite act around us."
"Right? Was Yuha always the type to roast someone like that?"
The existing Titans teammates found this side of Jin Yuha pretty novel.
"He roasts me all the time. Like, that's all he does to me."
"Well... you're Hanseong."
"What does that mean, hyung?"
As I mentioned once before, back in my previous life, I wasn't exactly the nicest guy. I had a sharp tongue with opponents and even teammates sometimes.
But even then, I had a few players I could call friends.
There were some. ...Just not many.
If I'd been prickly with everyone I met, my retirement would've come years earlier. Whether I got fed up, my teammates did, or we all did—it would've ended in disaster.
And Travis Turner was one of the rare ones I could call a friend. That's why his name came up first when Dad asked about replacement foreign players.
Not that we had heart-to-hearts or anything warm like that.
The only person I ever talked softly to, then or now, was Mia. Being sweet to some burly dude? Gross.
Anyway, the reason I was roasting Travis Turner wasn't just some one-sided buddy feeling on my part.
This is all to help the newbie settle into the team faster.
That's how considerate I am.
"Damn it! Teach me curves already, then."
Even for this rude punk who demands like he's in charge while begging. He always needed a hierarchy lesson, past or present.
"Nah. I told you, I suck at curves. Go learn from Coach Kim Pilsun."
"...Isn't Kim a sweeper guy?"
What the hell? He clearly had some misconceptions about the Titans. But.
There was no time to clear them up.
CRACK!!
Cleanup hitter Frank Rodriguez flied out, ending the Titans' turn at bat.
"I dunno what you're on about, but if you ask Coach nicely, he'll teach you everything."
Back in the day, he'd spent ages grinding in the minors and soared once he picked up the curve. I hoped his wandering days wouldn't drag on this time. Call it a regressor's way of honoring past-life bonds.
If he still can't get it...
Eh, not my problem. I'd done enough.
He's good enough for KBO level without curves anyway. That's all I need to see.
"Hoo..."
Irons franchise star and cleanup hitter Kim Jeonghyeok stepped to the plate as the leadoff man in the top of the second, heavy with pressure.
Gonna throw another curve?
Manager Lee Jungyu had slotted his best hitter, Kim Jeonghyeok, into the four-hole—the classic cleanup role that had nearly gone extinct lately.
My job: drive in runs with runners on, or swing the momentum with a big blast if not.
But.
Can I do that against him?
Kim Jeonghyeok felt massive pressure facing Jin Yuha. Not something the prideful four-hole guy would normally admit.
...All because we fixated on that horizontal movement crap.
The Irons' prep had gone off the rails from the jump.
WHOOSH!!
The first pitch came in.
Four-seam!
THWIP!!
Kim Jeonghyeok's bat whipped out like lightning, sensing the fastball.
CRACK!!
The high fly ball dropped into the stands behind the catcher.
...Faster than expected, with wild movement.
No getting used to it from video or even gunning 160km/h off a machine.
One strike.
Tap tap.
I knew all about Jin Yuha's lightning-quick tempo from other guys who'd faced him. Especially Pistols' Oh Seungjin, a buddy of Kim Jeonghyeok's, who said he'd get neurotic every time Jeong Hanseong tapped the PitchCom.
I get where Seungjin's coming from.
WHOOSH!!
The pitch came the second he set his stance—and it was 160km/h smoke. Maddening from the batter's side.
THWIP!!
"Damn it!"
Even at 138km/h, it was brutal—a sweeper that buckled hard in front of the plate.
WHIFF!!
"Swinging strike!"
Watch the horizontal break? Even if it was all sweepers, that wouldn't make it easy. And now.
He's mixing in curves too...
Tap tap.
No time to think—the Titans battery exchanged signs. Then.
WHOOSH!!
...Not a curve.
That was all Kim Jeonghyeok clocked on the last one.
THWIP!!
"Damn."
WHIFF!!
"Swinging strike three!"
The Western League's top slugger, neck-and-neck with Eastern's Kang Gihoo and Edmund in the home run race—struck out by Jin Yuha's high-velocity splitter.
Kim Jeonghyeok was a hitter in the same mold as Warriors' Edmund—the classic one-shot danger man. Which meant.
That type's the easiest for me to handle.
Easy matchup.
Tap tap.
Even if I'd decided to feature curves today, I couldn't spam them every at-bat. Curves lose value the more you show 'em. Still.
WHACK!!
"Strike!"
WHACK!!
"Strike!"
THWIP!!
"Swinging strike three!"
No better combo for a fireballer than high heat and curves.
You watching?
I glanced at the Titans dugout to check on Travis Turner.
Like I said, I'm overflowing with consideration—showing a teammate exactly how to wield a curve.
Though he probably knows.
It's the most classic repertoire. No way he doesn't.
...Or does he?
He'd told me himself: every coach who'd tried teaching him curves back in the day got ignored. He was more into other breaking stuff.
Said they were too slow.
Stuck in the minors forever pre-regression, now learning curves because Uncle Jackson suggested it. Ego monster through and through.
WHACK!!
"Strike three!"
Anyway. With dominance like this, he'd bow his head soon enough.
Maybe he'd admitted it the moment he first saw me throwing in the bullpen—that the kid-faced pitcher up there had skills beyond his own.
"Incredible..."
Still, he'd pushed those feelings down out of inferiority, probably. Because.
That's exactly the ace pitcher I dreamed of...
Jin Yuha was Travis Turner's ideal starter—not some ordinary fireballer relying on 100mph heat, but an artist blending pitches into pure pitching poetry.
His bias against Korean players. Envy and jealousy of that shining talent.
Once those clouded lenses cleared...
"That's amazing!"
All that remained was pure admiration.
Something I'll never pull off...
Not quite the epiphany from my pre-regression encounters, but Travis Turner had faced reality in his own way.
...If I can just master one curve, that's a win.
His hands weren't gifted for Major League-level command of a full arsenal. The baseball gods gave him that 100mph arm and called it a day. Should be grateful for that much.
"Ahem."
The merit-first guy shuffled up to the pitcher he'd acknowledged, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"What, don't you know not to mess with the starter?"
"Ahem. I know you don't care about that."
"How?"
"James Gilbert told me."
"...When'd you two get chummy?"
Jin Yuha was relatively nice to other players but extra curt with Travis Turner specifically.
Why?
His own first impression hadn't been great, sure. But.
He didn't seem offended.
Yuha had kept bantering back, escalating the jabs.
Just how he is, I guess.
Travis Turner couldn't figure it out.
"I admit it. You're the better pitcher."
He owned the skill gap and apologized for his earlier attitude.
"Yeah?"
But Jin Yuha just shrugged like it was obvious.
This guy's personality ain't great.
Travis Turner thought to himself.
"Then go grab me some water."
And after that? Even more so. Still.
"...Got it."
Travis Turner stood to fetch it. More Korean in the hierarchy game than Jin Yuha himself, maybe.
The hierarchy sort-out with my sorta-new old teammate was done, more or less.
Now just focus on that complete game shutout...
Score: 0-0. Luckily(?), no early hook from the mound.