Noh In-seong Rides In to Save the Struggling Doubles
The donuts I'd so carefully bought slipped right out of my hand as these bastards came charging at me out of nowhere, catching me off guard.
"Whoa, what the— huh? Donuts."
Lim Jae-min instinctively deployed his one true specialty—catching anything that came flying at him—and rescued our daily bread from certain doom.
Good job, ball-catcher. No, scratch that, donut-catcher. You finally did something useful for once.
I had to swallow the urge to snap, What the hell is this? You're just going to throw the donuts I bought straight into the gutter?
'Ah, right. These bastards are about to rack up their second three-game losing streak of the year.'
Considering how smoothly everything had been going otherwise, a second three-game skid in one season was actually pretty forgivable.
"Come to think of it, we've never really accumulated losses steadily before, have we?"
"The dish dish thason, wight? Shlurp... At leatht we never got thwept."
Lim Jae-min, who had somehow already opened the donut box I bought and was stuffing his face, nodded along in agreement.
...Is it good? I've never seen anyone chew three donuts at once. Amazing that they even fit in your mouth.
"Seriously, this lunatic is cramming three of the donuts someone bought for everyone to share into his mouth at the same time."
"GACK—!!"
Noh In-seong punted his unhinged classmate square in the ass. Remarkably, not a single soul tried to stop him.
Even without me, our worst-case scenario had been a losing series. With me, it was a winning series or a sweep.
The last three-game streak had come after going 2-1 then dropping two straight—exactly the same situation as now.
But no matter how you sliced it, the lineup visibly sputtered whenever even one player—meaning me—was suspended and away from the team.
Which meant that somewhere along the way, my teammates had started viewing me as something like a lucky charm.
"Feels like I should change my name to something with 'nil' or 'zero' in it, but whatever—I'm back, so we win tomorrow, right?"
"Yes. And next time, please, for the love of god, never let Song show his face at first base again."
"...Excuse me, Caleb. I understand English just fine, and I'm standing right here."
"I know. That's why I'm saying it. If you knock one more ball off your glove and send it flying into the stands—"
-- that foul ball is going to end up jammed somewhere VERY foul, you son of a bitch...!!
Caleb said this while wringing Song Jin-wook's head like a towel.
Wow, holy shit. You're planning to gift the opposing team a free double? What an inventive way to sabotage your own team. You two must really hate each other.
"Ah! AH! Tap! Tap-tap!! Please!"
Honestly, how long is this guy going to be useless at first base? It's only going to get hotter, and he'll have to rotate positions even more.
Noh In-seong stared with pity at Song Jin-wook, who had barely escaped the long-armed American gorilla's headlock.
After Noh In-seong's return, two players who had never once crossed paths in the team residence hallway finally ran into each other.
"...Oh? Well, well. Look who it is. In-soo was right—he really did send you down unhappy as hell, huh?"
"Good lord, he really did. He said you were a certified lunatic, one hundred percent pure."
Two prospects from the second-tier squad—and, thrown in as sacrificial lambs alongside the future draft rights, a man who'd been traded with a year and a half left on his deal.
Cho Hyo-jin ran into Noh In-seong at the hotel coin laundry.
Their first meeting had been nothing but mutual rudeness, yet the two of them warmed up to each other almost instantly.
"So yeah, that insane old man would always tell me to loosen up by the fourth inning. Every single game."
"Wow, that's brutal. Wait—you're saying he told you that even on days when the ace was pitching?"
"There was no 'ace' with that guy. Just the guy whose turn it was to throw first."
With the drum washers spinning in the background, the two of them sat on the laundry room table in T-shirts and shorts, sharing snacks and drinks—and nothing in this world bonded men faster than trading horror stories about a former manager and airing out old grudges.
"And when I asked for a raise, he told me I wasn't showing enough 'desperation'..."
"What is it with teams these days and their salary caps? They're stingy as hell."
They traded unspeakable stories—the old manager this, a pitcher who called his own headshots every single start that—until finally, Noh In-seong had a rough idea of why this man hadn't survived there.
"Agh, I just wanted to pitch comfortably, the same way, every time. That bastard had me yanked in and out until I was done..."
This man. He simply refuses to do anything outside of a fixed role.
He was the type of player who needed a clearly defined position to feel at ease—and a team like his old one was never going to accommodate that.
"I think it'll be different here. You'll pretty much be locked into the eighth inning."
"Then that works for me. I don't care for closing either—all it does is jack up your heart rate and wear you out... But no, they had to run that closer-by-committee nonsense."
-- Anyway, I wouldn't spit in that place's direction ever again. Truly filthy people...
Cho Hyo-jin spoke of his former team the way nine out of ten grown men speak of their PTSD.
Noh In-seong was rapidly befriending the man who would be guarding the bullpen in his wake.
The next day, we had a leisurely meal at the hotel and headed out to loosen up during training hours.
"Mmm, this heartwarming air."
The smell of fresh grass pierced my nose for the first time in a while, and the sunshine felt like it was stabbing straight into my eyes—it was a gloriously bright day.
"And this dog-ass heat."
Seriously? A day game, in late May? These lunatics at the league office have lost their minds.
Who schedules a game at 2 p.m. on a substitute rest day, out of nowhere? Just do an evening game like always.
Not that it would matter. They'd just say, 'It's only 28 degrees, you babies. Suck it up one way or another.'
The days of worrying about hydration and heat exhaustion were creeping closer—but today was not that day.
"Stop whining over a little heat like this, In-seong."
Caleb, hailing from a city bordering Mexico, was posturing tough with zero situational awareness—but whatever. This bastard was going to be melting into a puddle next road trip to Daegu, whimpering, 'Boo-hoo, I hate the Hell Peninsula!'
Wait, didn't this guy play a full season last year? How is he still pretending to be tough?
"Caleb, didn't you get chewed out by the manager last year for trying to stick cooling patches all over your body?"
"Aw, damn it. You were there for that too, Dustin?"
Confronted with Choon-sik's irrefutable fact bomb, Caleb fled.
Figures. Of course a guy whose hottest day back home never breaks 30 degrees can't handle this.
Pitchers are forbidden from attaching anything to their bodies while pitching.
You get flagged just for stuffing cabbage leaves in your cap—and he wanted cooling patches? Honestly, the manager showed admirable restraint not blowing up at that one.
The Suwon Magicians had been floundering since the very start of the season.
They were so bad that trading away Kim Jin-il—the team's lone glimmer of hope—for a full-scale rebuild was starting to look tempting.
Aside from the sellout Noh In-seong had gifted them, not a single game had drawn a full house all season.
People cheer for a baseball team when they can see hope. Nothing kills a fanbase like a middling, directionless team.
Sure, some clubs draw crowds even through hellish years—but that's the exception, not the rule.
This time, they'd barely scraped together a sellout by combining their own fans with the Doubles crowd that had made the short trip to Suwon for the opener.
But after losing the first game 11-3, the Doubles' severely constipated offense had battered their own fans' eyes into submission, and they abandoned Game 2 entirely.
"There we go—so THAT'S how you go on a two-game losing streak against sorry-ass ballclubs like these..."
"Now, now! You know what they say—a win or a loss is just part of the game!"
"A mental case, of every variety—a bastard beyond anything imaginable, not fit to be called human?"
"......"
Noh In-seong served Song Jin-wook a piping-hot, internet-style acrostic roast—but honestly, that was exactly how the fans felt.
"Whatever it takes today, we win and go home. Anyone who doesn't get a hit today reports to me separately."
Noh In-seong spat out harsh words at the entire team.
CRACK--!!
CRACK---!!
CRACK-----!!
CRACK-----!!
The effect of Noh In-seong's return was immediate.
After tearing the lead out of Suwon's hands from the very first inning, the man taking the mound as the starter was the team's undisputed ace.
Caleb wore a ear-to-ear grin at the butterfly effect of Noh In-seong rejoining the roster.
"DAMN. NOW that's defense."
Strike one on the first pitch, strike two on the second—and even when a ball accidentally caught too much of the plate produced a base-hit-worthy ball in play, it didn't matter.
As long as it went toward the shortstop or third baseman, there was no problem at all.
The third baseman was the regular starting shortstop to begin with—a man with truly massive defensive range.
The shortstop possessed defensive skills unlike anything he'd displayed during his long years grinding in the minors.
He handled routine plays with machine-like stability and chased down the terrifying ones on pure athletic ability.
And as a bonus—
There was zero chance of the defensive cancer—so malignant it could drain a starting pitcher's will to live—ever migrating to first base.
That single fact was what let Caleb pour pitches over the mound with total confidence.
Caleb walked off the mound in the first inning, having slammed the door shut perfectly, still smiling.
And that smile didn't stop until the ninth.
"Phew, that was work. Man, if only every day could be like this one."
Caleb's first complete-game shutout of the season.
106 pitches, two walks. Three hits allowed, but four double plays turned Suwon's demise positively comfortable.
The end of the three-game skid came as a laughter-filled blowout.
"These sons of bitches... grrgh..!!"
Though from the Suwon fans' perspective, it was a blowout that ruptured every internal organ they had.
"Here we have the Doubles' very own Noh In-seong!"
"Pleasure to be here. Noh In-seong."
A blowout victory immediately upon returning from a bench-clearing incident.
The Player of the Game would obviously go to Caleb, but my antics alone were more than enough fodder for the media, so an interview request came my way.
Today I'd gone 4-for-4. No home run, but I'd capped it off with a bunt single that toyed with the catcher's soul.
Down thirteen runs and he lays down a bunt...?! They were so dumbfounded they basically stopped playing defense.
Had they learned nothing? I'm the kind of man who grins while I slap hits out of exactly that kind of negligence.
"Yes, Noh In-seong. Congratulations on a successful return. Did you spend your suspension reflecting deeply on your actions?"
"Handing out five games for a bench clearing that peaceful—I'd say the rulebook is the one that needs a psychiatric evaluation."
Watching the announcer spout nonsense—he's clearly not one of my fans, then.
"I'm sorry... what?"
"Think about it. If I'd actually fought in earnest, how many people would've gotten hurt?"
One player gets grabbed, the other guy started it, the guy who started it got an apology—why on earth that turns into hostage-taking is truly beyond me.
"Ah... yes. I... think I roughly follow. In any case, let's move on from that topic..."
The announcer, pale as a ghost, steered the conversation elsewhere. My, so many frightening things in this world.
I answered the various questions with my own version of doing my absolute best.
And then the announcer's final question reached my ears.
"Oh, that's right. Noh In-seong, All-Star voting has just opened. Are you confident you'll be selected for the All-Star Game?"
Well, for most players it's an honor, sure.
But not for me, see.
"Ah, that thing? If you get voted in, you can't even rest when everyone else is resting, and you have to play a joke of a game that isn't fun for anyone."
How do I put it—it's like descending from a Valhalla where you can fight each other to the death into something that feels like a batting practice pool party.
"I'd rather not be selected. Better to rest up and fight at full strength when it counts.
Please vote against me, everyone. Thank you very much."
Noh In-seong had refused the honor of being an All-Star.