Qualifications (3)
Someone said it.
The Titans were a team forever distant from championships.
And someone else said.
The fans cheering for such a team just looked pitiful and foolish.
The Titans fans replied.
But this team will win someday, right?
And with that, the Titans fans laughed.
Sure, it was a team that got frustrating sometimes—no, pretty often—but even so, they loved the Titans.
"...Is this really reality?"
For those Titans fans, the Korean Series that had finally arrived felt utterly awkward and unfamiliar.
It was true that losing Game 1 had everyone pretty worried, honestly. After climbing to the Korean Series stage for the first time in over 50 years, would the Titans just fade away pathetically? But.
Korean Series Game 2. The Titans' ace cleanly erased their worries by achieving a Perfect Game—the first such record in KBO history.
After that, it was nothing but happy moments.
Korean Series Game 3, where they overwhelmingly crushed the Guardians still reeling from the Perfect Game hangover.
Game 4, where they proved they were a team worthy of the championship by beating the resilient Guardians who had regained their grit after the shocking blowout.
Titans fans had always cheered wildly at every game, and they were rewarded for that passion.
Finally, Game 5 began—and it was a shock from start to finish.
Guardians ace Shim Chando taking the mound on three days' rest. Titans ace Jin Yuha's sudden appearance as a hitter.
And.
Thwack!!
Home run.
- Waaaaah!!
To Titans fans, Jin Yuha's homer felt like fireworks signaling the end of a long wait.
The score was still a one-run game. A precarious lead that could flip in an instant—they'd even briefly lost it moments ago.
Even so, Titans fans were convinced of victory.
Thwack!!
Thwack!!
The ace who had become the Titans incarnate just a year after debut was warming up in the bullpen.
"Tch."
I couldn't hide my inner regret even as I warmed up in the bullpen.
"Why?"
Jeong Hanseong, catching for me, asked.
"Just thinking if I'd hit a bit better, we wouldn't be in such a nail-biter."
"You had two extra-base hits today, including a homer? You serious?"
Dead serious.
"Ah... such a shame. That ball in my third at-bat would've been a big inning if it hadn't gone right at the fielder."
To be honest, my hitting still wasn't perfect. I'd had less prep time for it compared to pitching, and my raw talent as a hitter was a notch below as a pitcher.
'Gotta rework my swing from scratch after the season.'
Dragging along that friend of mine standing there with his mouth agape.
"Yuha, you're a pitcher."
"Gonna hit too."
"And then you'll go around saying 'I'm a pitcher' anyway."
True enough.
"What I'm saying is, tight game or not, you just get on the mound and fix it."
Oh.
"That's hitting the nail on the head."
That does sound more like me.
"Or your spot comes up again in the bottom of the eighth—hit another homer then."
"Man... guess sitting out today makes you talk big."
"Hey! I said that thinking of you!"
While I warmed up, senior Jo Yongjin cleanly set the Guardians down 1-2-3.
He'd been the closer this season, but maybe Jo Yongjin suited middle relief better. Even against the bottom of the order, he threw more aggressively in the eighth.
'Well, doesn't mean I can switch to closer...'
Nothing to do but hope a solid closer shows up someday.
Bottom of the eighth.
Leadoff: cleanup hitter Yoon Gangyeol.
He'd singled in his third at-bat, going 1-for-3 so far—not bad form.
On the mound: righty sidearmer Han Cheongyoung. True to the Guardians' high-caliber roster, their bullpen was solid too. Han was their go-to setup guy.
'Two-pitch guy with fastballs over 150 km/h and a decent slider.'
A sidearmer who dominated righties with a stifling batting average against.
'Probably threw him here since the lineup from Yoon Gangyeol on is all righties.'
And that choice seemed pretty effective.
Thwack!!
"...Strike three!"
Senior Yoon Gangyeol went down meekly on three pitches.
One out, no runners.
"Fourth time seeing you today, Beomjun."
I stepped into the box slowly.
Tap, tap.
Going through my routine as always.
"..."
Kim Beomjun, who'd at least replied before, said nothing.
'Can't blame him.'
Whatever. Reply or not, didn't matter.
'No matter how much you scheme...'
Whoosh!!
A two-pitch guy has limited options anyway.
Whirr!!
The old saying that rookie righties struggle against sidearms or underhands?
Thwack!!
Didn't apply to a regressor like me.
"Ha, gotta prep properly for next year."
The bullet liner split the infield; I stepped on first.
Last at-bat of the game: disappointingly, just a single.
Bottom of the eighth.
Jin Yuha reached first, but the Titans failed to score. Park Cheongwon, who'd notched the game's first RBI, hit into a double play.
But.
"...Ha."
A frustrated sigh escaped the Guardians' dugout, shut out in the inning.
"Haha, a double play here."
Park Cheongwon, the culprit himself, gave an awkward laugh but didn't seem too bummed.
Thud thud! Clap! Thud thud! Clap!
Because the pitcher guarding the mound in the top of the ninth was none other than Jin Yuha.
Thwack!!
Every practice pitch from Jin Yuha on the mound.
- Waaaaah!!
Drew roars from the stands.
Titans fans had no doubt their beloved pitcher would deliver the first title in 48 years.
Thwack!!
"Strike!"
Jin Yuha answered their faith, firing a 160 km/h four-seamer right into the zone on his first pitch.
Like Shim Chando, I was pitching on three days' rest. No way around not being at full strength. But.
'Shim's velocity dropped to mid-140s, but even if mine dips, I can still touch 160.'
That gap was huge. Hardly any KBO pitchers neared 160 to begin with. In short.
'Even off my game, no big issue facing hitters.'
And that's how it played out.
Guardians' leadoff hitter.
Thwack!!
"Strike!"
Just one four-seamer.
Whirr!!
"Swinging strike three!"
And he was gone, just like that.
'Next: Carpenter. No slouch—he homered off James Gilbert today too.'
But not a real threat. Carpenter had fallen to the same trick against me all season.
Whoosh!!
Inside cutter.
Crack!!
Carpenter trudged to first, broken bat in hand.
Tap.
The slow roller came my way; I gloved it and tagged him lightly.
"Out!"
Easier and quicker than expected—two outs.
"..."
Kim Beomjun, surely the last batter of the game, stepped up. His wide eyes burned with rage and injustice.
'What can ya do.'
A gaze all too familiar to me. Pre-regression, I'd faced it constantly. Sadly, few who'd glared like that ever got revenge on me.
Thwack!!
"Strike!"
I was always a figure of fear and fury to foes.
Whirr!!
"Strike!"
And awe and faith to fans and teammates.
Whoosh!!
Whirr!!
Sure, there were times all that pressure weighed heavy.
'Not today, though?'
Thwack!!
I still didn't know why I'd regressed. Maybe the god of baseball pitied me for losing my joy in the game.
"..."
What mattered was I knew how precious this second life was.
"Swinging strike three!"
So even this familiar championship moment felt refreshingly new today.
"Oh yeah, first title with my debut team."
This was the baseline for a regressor to qualify.
Whirr!!
"Swinging strike three!"
The caster called it, but it didn't feel real. Ludicrously, he'd never imagined this moment.
Everyone else probably felt the same.
Who could've predicted a Titans championship?
Especially with a high school rookie signee delivering historic performance.
Of course, the Titans hadn't won on Jin Yuha alone. Everyone who'd watched the KBO this season knew it.
The Titans were a team worthy of the win.
Titans legend Kang Dongho, the commentator, choked back sobs. Guardians legend Park Woo-hyuk, who'd settled for runner-up, clapped quietly.
- Waaaaaaaah!!
The roar of Titans fans, ending their long wait, filled the stadium.