44. Destroying Innocence
After the end of Game 2 fizzled out into a rain-soaked no-game declaration, the internet was ablaze in a hundred different directions.
"...The dome?"
While reading the article — freshly scrubbed of Game 2's baptism of mud and rain, loitering in the clubhouse waiting for today's scheduled human delivery — a heavenly voice announced ding-dong, you're off work, and In-soo hyung emerged scrubbing his head raw with a sports towel.
"In-seong, would it kill you to at least memorize the characteristics of your own home ballparks?"
What the hell are you talking about? Isn't that exactly why it's a retractable roof, not some open-air stadium where the game can never proceed once it starts raining?
"Then explain to me why the hour and a half we spent out there getting rained on today got converted into pure wasted time?"
"Because in the off-season they use the ballpark as a concert venue instead of, you know, for baseball."
According to In-soo hyung, they'd been running some drone show, something went mismatched somewhere, and with the dome open, the drones that were supposed to soar high into the sky instead smashed straight into it — into the dome, not the sky. The opening mechanism of a dome he'd assumed was retractable — correction, a dome that turned out to be retractably garbage — now required repairs...
"And the end result is that we play at a dome stadium while getting rained on until mid-May. That's the story."
I want to tell those people, 'Congrats on your dome show.' I want my hour and a half back.
Shouldering my bag and heading toward where In-soo hyung had parked, my stomach started grumbling softly.
"In-soo hyung, are you stopping for anything to eat on the way?"
"No, Jae-min told me to come home early today. It's Children's Day tomorrow, after all..."
Wait, what? Last I knew, In-soo hyung didn't have any kids at home... oh.
"Children's Day is the day you make children... KHEUK!"
In-soo hyung's knife-hand struck my ribs dead-on.
Aigo, the injustice is so overwhelming I ought to buy the man a car.
After clocking out and riding home in In-soo hyung's car, Siyeon came to me.
"Dearest big brother, it's Children's Day. Do you have nothing to say to a poor young maiden?"
...No, has this sister lost her mind? Daring to raise the children's shield against this elder, this celestial being...
"What is this? Teabagging me — the guy who had to clock in on his day off and babysit idiots I can't stand the sight of?"
"No! A present! I'm a child, remember? Me!"
"......Siyeon, doesn't it strike you that you're being remarkably mercenary? Mom and Dad got you presents too, you know."
This doomed sibling of mine collected presents at Christmas, and now wants more on Children's Day and her own birthday besides. Should I bestow some proper education upon this little brat and subscribe to a Teacher's Day premium membership to snag extra presents for myself?
"Hehe, Oppa. Can't you get me some tickets?"
"Oh... um... you're coming to watch my game?"
Well then, that's a different conversation entirely. I'll cut her the good seats. Haha, seeing her look up to this big brother of hers warms the heart so...
"Oh, then home-plate seats, please."
"GEET OOOOOUT!!!"
For the record, this year was an odd-numbered year. The Grizzlies were at home.
On Children's Day itself, an unexpected horde of children residing in Seoul came visiting — to watch grown men hammer baseballs with bats.
"Come one, come all~! A baseball experience with the players~!"
Granted, it stung a little that I'd been reduced to a spectacle, a freak on display inside the circus tent.
"Wow! It's Noh In-seong!"
"The man who conquered an entire ballpark with a single fist...!"
Apparently my image among the children was something along the lines of an apocalyptic warlord. It felt mildly flattering.
"Oppa, quit your freak show and hand over the tickets."
And in the middle of all that, Siyeon — do you truly have to shatter my emotions like plate glass before you feel satisfied?
"Oh my, and who might these be. Friends?"
No — half of these 'friends' were Doubles fans and half were Grizzlies fans. Is this right? Is any of this right?
"Ahem... you do realize I'm a Doubles player, and you're out here fraternizing with Grizzlies children...?"
"What are you even saying! If you hadn't been so unlucky, you could've ended up on the Marines!"
Watching her snatch the tickets out of my hand in a huff and bolt off, I made a mental note: this one's discipline is due, and soon.
"Today I'm going to slaughter every last one of those Grizzlies bastards. For real."
Noh In-seong's inner gremlin went supernova.
"It's Children's Day. Which means it's a day we win. Nearly every single time."
While the Grizzlies squad — equipped with the natural, earned confidence that flowed from their own lived experience — pumped positive assurance into everyone from rookies to veterans, just do what we always do!
"It's Children's Day. Which means it's one more day you all get beaten black and blue by me. Nearly every single time."
A man who had watched with his own two eyes as his precious little sister mingled with children wearing the uniforms of the world's most wretched traitors.
His fury shooting clean out the top of his skull, Noh In-seong appeared at the pre-game interview and flipped it inside out.
"I have a feeling today will be a magnificent day for planting historic, eternally memorable trauma into the little bear cubs."
This was the day that even if you won every single rivalry series, one loss here would permanently stamp into you: 'You lost, didn't you? Yep, no arguing~ You guys just plain suck~'
Plant the trauma into Siyeon's friends, and forcibly convert them all to the Doubles. That was the entire mission statement.
For Noh In-seong, a man who normally lacked anything resembling a sense of purpose, something resembling a purpose had been born.
Children's Day derbies had a tendency to turn somewhat violent.
The collective consensus on throwing punches on Children's Day ran: 'Whoa? Oh no? Look at that guy? The kids are watching — how DARE he?'
Thanks to that, even if a man played baseball in a thoroughly infuriating manner, the other side simply had to swallow it.
Even a lunatic who crossed every line in the book had no choice but to smile and play baseball today.
"That part's true, but what's with this dog-shit check swing right now, huh? What is it?"
This was why Seong Hyun-tak hyung's face was running somewhat red at the moment. Those guys were moving with literal fire in their eyes to win today's game.
It meant rough — not quite all the way to 'let's murder each other!' — so for now he was holding it in.
"Manager, I think you need to file a protest. They keep doing that, over and over."
—THWACK!
"KKHEUK!"
[Ah, the ninth hitter, Pi Jeong-doo, has been hit by a pitch. That's the second one today. You can see he's in some real pain, can't you?]
[He's a pitcher who makes throwing inside the very foundation of his pitching design... but when he can't command it, he becomes a white elephant, doesn't he?]
[Honestly, the biggest problem is that every single inning, you're sitting there in a state of threat.]
"Hey! Umpire! You're supposed to rein them in! They can't even throw strikes!"
"Hey! I saw that! Die, seriously, die!"
With the swearing raining down on us from the stands above, I couldn't say whether it was intentional.
"Why? Does anything look different when the fans are watching from up there?"
"It just ends in cursing, that's all. It wouldn't be provable — it'd stay at 'I'm suspicious he keeps throwing inside' level."
In the first place, if they'd actually hit him on purpose, something would already be flying across this field right now.
"Anyway, keep your eyes on what this hyung does. I'll personally provide the answer for punks who come out playing rough."
"Does this bastard think he's my hyung? We're the same age, and he's pulling rank."
Lim Jae-min grumbled, but it didn't reach me. Where was the on-deck circle, on-deck circl...!!
I sprinted to the on-deck circle before the man could even lift his bat.
In the at-bat before mine, Seong Hyun-tak hyung had lined a single, putting runners on first and third.
Through five innings, both I and the opposing mercenary Hector had refused to surrender a single run into the middle frames.
"Hey there, Mr. Franchise. You're playing unbelievably rough right now — would you happen to have a reason?"
A cordial greeting exchanged with Jeong Han-sol. A greeting that asked: are you bastards seriously thinking about throwing at me too?
"On such a heartwarming Children's Day, you really must draw blood? Tell your bench to knock it off, Mr. Franchise."
"......"
Oh? Silence? These bastards are fully locked in today.
[First pitch is a ball. Ah — they're throwing inside on Noh In-seong as well?]
[Well... is that a wise decision? Children's Day or not, blood could come raining down on this field!]
"The manager order that? 'Throw at our starting pitcher today — brushbacks and all'?"
"Hey, we're not doing this because we enjoy it just because it's us. Punk."
And yet, watching the way he handled the pitch, this man was a catcher through and through. It broke outside, so I let it go — but still.
[Strike. Yes, a fine sinking fastball. It's coming in on the corner.]
[An up-and-in first pitch, then a pitch down and away — from the hitter's perspective, it really does look miles away.]
Haha. So THAT was it. These bastards were pulling this shit because they wanted to mess around with zero risk, in the end.
Lecture me about the dangers of inside pitches to make me back off the plate a hair, then sniff out the opening and steal the count back? Stack two runners aboard and try to farm free outs off me? Fire brushback pitches at the pitcher — at ME — as intimidation? You're dead.
[Third pitch, inside... he hit it!]
[This ball is sailing high—!! It flies! And it is NOT coming back! Noh In-seong's three-run home run! The game tips toward the Doubles!]
"Pass a message to the man who put down that sign. The Noh In-seong command show starts now."
"....!!"
What's there to be shocked about? I can run a fun little prank or two as well, as long as the score keeps stacking up. Right?
I hurled my bat high into the sky and busted out an aerial sidekick ceremony rounding first base.
At second, I looked the shortstop dead in the face and dropped one on him: 'Hey, you bowing your head already? You haven't even snorted the stuff yet.'
At third, I caught the tossed bear plushie and tore it clean in half, then in front of home plate hauled my uniform up to my chest to reveal the message printed on what lay beneath.
'Oh myyy, how couwd widdle chiwdwen even think of sitting in the stands of youw heavenly big bwother's side... tsk tsk!'
[Ah... yes, is that about Noh In-seong's little sister?]
[I have heard it said that among truly great players, a remarkable number have astonishingly petty personalities...]
Before tens of thousands of camera drones broadcasting live across the nation, the words scrawled on Noh In-seong's undershirt went out over the airwaves.
Having now surrendered the opening run in a Noh In-seong start, the Grizzlies needed to attack all the more aggressively — but.
[Ah, inside again! Whoa! He nearly got drilled for real that time!]
[An ordinary pitch, maybe you let it slide — but a properly commanded pitch north of 160 km/h is coming straight at his body!]
"What are you scheming? You're the ones who started it."
Throwing at the opposing starting pitcher is a direct synonym for 'please, by all means, throw at us exactly this way too!'
And sure enough, the opponent-side human whom In-seong despised above all others, Kim Seong-ju, took one square in the back.
"KKHEUK!"
Rolling on the ground, weeping tears of gratitude beneath the glorious twin rows of baseball stitching freshly branded across his back — what else could a man possibly do?
There was a reason the privilege that a play only begins once the pitcher on the mound releases the ball had existed since the very dawn of the sport.
"Noh In-seong. That's a warning."
"Aigo, the ball simply slipped out of my hand, sir. If I had actually thrown it properly, he'd be in a hospital right now."
On top of which: 'It didn't come out at maximum velocity, so it's not my fault!' — a shamelessness that proudly showcased the pinnacle of Korean steel manufacturing.
"That little son of a—!!"
Naturally, by this point the opposing team was apoplectic. Just as they hesitated over whether to stage a morale-restoring bench clearing,
"...Hey. It's Children's Day. The kids are watching!"
The invincible shield moved to guard Noh In-seong. Though it felt rather like having the shield you were about to raise snatched from your hands and then being bludgeoned with it.
"Aha, you bastards. That's right. It's Children's Day."
After that, there was no restraint whatsoever.
Having reached on a bunt single, the moment the opposing closer Cho Hoon was summoned to extinguish the crisis,
"Oh, should I go? Or not? Should I? Did I go? Am I going? Nope! Didn't go!"
[Cho Hoon is getting shaken apart... the pitcher keeps starting and aborting his delivery over and over, you see?]
[But when he actually throws over to check, the runner's weight is planted on first from the very beginning, so his return to the bag is lightning quick. It's infuriating to watch, honestly.]
Having driven one more pitcher's blood pressure to stratospheric levels, at second base he took off as if stealing third —
"Hey! Third! Third...?"
[Wow, I have no idea how he executes that movement in spikes, but the catcher is frozen solid.]
[Probably because he has never once witnessed such a sight in his entire professional career. This is a first for us as well.]
And then, watching him stroll leisurely back toward second as though playing his earlier motion in reverse, Jeong Han-sol's mind shattered too.
"The ball's out! RUN!"
[Ah, a wild pitch...! And he's coming home.]
[I thought he was a catcher who could stop at least this much. It seems he was shaken after all.]
"...You're really not human..."
"Doesn't seem that way, does it? I know. Where else on earth would you find anyone as good as me?"
In the Children's Day derby, the Doubles triumphed, hurling the Grizzlies headlong into the abyss.
—"It... it was really, really scary... and the bear looked so pitiful."
—"So which team is our little one going to root for, hmm?"
—"I'm going to cheer for the bears!"—
Beep—
"...Argh, you doomed little wretch!"
"Come on, we won anyway, didn't we? Let's grab a drink."
Of course, all we had done was win. It was a victory — a Pyrrhic one.