Grin and Bear It (BEAR)
The Doubles had taken the first game of the series.
And yet Doubles manager Jeong Im-taek could only furrow his brow.
"Sure, the lineup scored plenty because every one of them was locked in, but if the opposing starter hadn't imploded like that..."
"Well, our starter was Caleb. I can't promise consistency, but we'd have won either way."
The coach had a point — Caleb was the very best card the Doubles had to offer. When your starter gives you seven innings of three-run ball, you trust him and you win. It's as simple as that.
Though, admittedly, the team did have another starter who produced comparable innings with rather better efficiency on average.
"That one? Nobody knows what he'll pull. He might decide to give up a run an inning, deck somebody, and walk off the mound."
"......"
When your ace's repertoire includes winning games and getting the other team's pitcher ejected, calling him your best card was a bit of a stretch.
Facing the Grizzlies — their final opponent of the first half — the Doubles found plenty to lament about their own condition.
First, their bullpen — the win-condition arms in particular — was a problem.
"Oof... I don't think I can go."
"Figured as much. Better to shut you down for the first half and let you rest, no?"
Cho Hyo-jin was, even back with his old club in Incheon, a man who'd spent most of his career rotting as a fifth starter on standby. It was pure luck that his ligaments were naturally durable — with an ordinary arm, he'd have been on the operating table years ago. Even now, he carried chronic inner-elbow inflammation and a full-blown case of golfer's elbow.
"...I'm sorry. Right before the crucial close of the first half."
"Don't be absurd. The three-days-in-a-row, run-him-into-the-ground routine we've always done? Not in this clubhouse. Rest up."
Resting Cho Hyo-jin before Game 1 against the Grizzlies was a defensible call — a weakened roster was a price worth paying.
And we've still got Kim Jin-hong. We'll be fine... was the exact moment the other shoe dropped.
"Apparently Kim Jin-hong's been complaining of shoulder soreness too?"
"...Wh-what did you just say?!"
It was rare for one man to absorb the full overload of a strained bullpen. There'd been an era when two sidearm relievers chewed through the regular innings between them, when abuse was simply the daily grind — but try that today and you'd deserve the fans storming the field to stomp your shoulder into the dirt.
"They're calling it a minor rotator cuff strain. It should heal quickly, they say..."
"...Isn't the problem that 'quickly' means two weeks?"
Kim Jin-hong — the man who'd thrown three consecutive days early in the season, who'd swallowed multi-inning outings without complaint while Cho Hyo-jin was out — was gone too.
Two usable cards, yanked from the deck. What remained was Jeon In-soo, Yeom Dong-goo, and So Dong-yeop: a grizzled veteran fresh off shoulder surgery, a rookie who pitched with his brain switched off, and a random-command roulette wheel.
"This is driving me insane. I finally get a setup man and a closer in place, and both of them drop dead... hah... hahaha..!"
Besides being mad enough to jump out of his skin, there was something even more infuriating: the opposing lineup had only been contained because Caleb happened to be dealing. By every sign, they were in peak form.
"Especially him. That drugged-up bastard."
"You mean Kim Seong-ju? Ha... right you are. He was the number-one hitter by WAR last month."
A slugger whose power output simply ignored the brutal park factors of the Jamsil Dome. Kim Seong-ju had single-handedly driven in every last one of his team's runs, resisting with everything he had.
"...With our bullpen suddenly gutted like this... can we really hold those guys down?"
That was why an anxious Jeong Im-taek couldn't bring himself to celebrate the day's victory.
The next day, the Doubles met the Grizzlies in Game 2 — and both of their worries caught fire at the same instant, detonating the game on the spot.
"...Called it, didn't I."
Watching yesterday's anxieties convert into today's blown leads with almost miraculous efficiency, Jeong Im-taek clutched his head.
Andy going six innings and surrendering four runs was tolerable enough. But Yeom Dong-goo, brought in with the score tied 4-4, failed to stop the opposing lineup and gave up three runs in a single inning. So Dong-yeop was worse — four straight walks forced in one run, then a grand slam, all without recording a single out.
He made life miserable for his team in every conceivable way.
Whenever runners gathered in front of Kim Seong-ju — whether he'd singled or drawn a walk — Kim Seong-ju manufactured vicious contact.
CRACK—!!
"You see that?! You SEE it?! THIS is what I am!"
Watching the ex-convict round the bases in full celebration mode, Noh In-seong's face twisted in disgust.
In the end, Jeon In-soo had to mop up the final two innings all by himself. Two more runs across those two frames. Final score: 14-5. The Doubles handed back Game 2 in a single day, repaying yesterday's blowout with interest.
"Fine. Say the bullpen had problems on every front..."
But the offense, too, felt like it was snapping back to its usual self for all the wrong reasons.
With Game 3 against the Grizzlies looming, the Doubles found themselves cornered from every direction.
As the league leaders, the Doubles had all eight other teams' fanbases united against them. The standings, the internet, the fans — everything had coalesced into a single desperate prayer for the Doubles to stumble and fall.
"Infuriating. I know baseball's supposed to do this to you sometimes, but still."
The next day, Noh In-seong lay sprawled on a couch, reading articles while he waited for team practice to begin.
[First-Half Finale: Doubles and Grizzlies Trade Blows]
[The Light and Shadow of Game 3 — Does the Doubles' Ailing Bullpen Smile on the Grizzlies?]
[Kim Seong-ju: 'At the Very Least, the June MVP Should Have Been Mine.']
CRUNCH—!!
His face twisted into a scowl at the article, Noh In-seong savagely demolished a cracker.
"...There it is. Look at this bastard. That mouth-shredding swing of his... the old form's back in all its glory."
He'd already been annoyed watching that man celebrate his way around the bases yesterday — and now that the opposing star had the leisure to give interviews, Noh In-seong had exactly zero reason to tolerate the provocation.
"...Which is precisely why you're in my office right now, stuffing your face with every snack in sight, In-seong..."
The couch Noh In-seong occupied was, in fact, the black leather sofa of the manager's office. He crammed the last of the monaka wafers into his mouth and looked up at Jeong Im-taek.
"Kim Seong-ju. That damned bastard. You want him neutralized, don't you?"
"...In-seong, I'm the manager."
Need power? You'll have it! In exchange, whatever I do to that bastard, you look the other way!
And so the magic blade known as Noh In-seong extended his hand to the manager.
"...Hm. Although — you'd do whatever you pleased even if I tried to stop you. I suppose I have no reason to refuse."
"Correct."
Jeong Im-taek didn't say no. He seized the offered hilt with both hands.
With more than a week of nothing but rest on the other side of this series, a death match had opened its gates — a match where anything was permitted in pursuit of a single win.
Starter Jeong In-woo was loosening up, running through his checklist, when Noh In-seong wandered over.
"You know the deal, right? You're not going deep today."
"...Ugh, I know. Still, I'd like to at least get through five if I can."
"That'd make my life easier, sure... but can you?"
"...Doubt it. Fine. Fifty pitches, as hard as I can throw them."
--Play ball!
Jeong In-woo's first pitch was a sinker that dove hard, boring in deep on the hands.
His command held steady inside, and two hitters went down on lightning-fast groundouts. The third batter in the order, Kim Seong-ju, chased the sinker all the way and managed to stroke a single into center field.
And in the very next moment, a situation arose where he would have been better off not swinging at all.
"Guhk—!!"
To make the tag as natural as possible, Noh In-seong had brought the glove down hard the instant he secured the ball — and with it, using Kim Seong-ju's other two balls, he delivered a hands-on demonstration of exactly how a man scores on ball four.
He collected the out, too. Kim Seong-ju sprawled on the dirt, the breath knocked clean out of him.
"Haha, hasn't withered yet, I see. Must be diligently taking his other meds as well."
On top of everything else, the mental assault came free of charge.
"...NOH IN-SEONG...!!"
Furious, Kim Seong-ju whirled around looking for him — but his target was already strolling back toward the dugout.
"We're only just getting started. Why's he blowing his top already?"
The amusements of Noh In-seong had merely begun.
The Doubles did manage to pile up runs steadily — but never pulled far ahead. Runners advanced inning after inning, yet almost every hit was a single. One run, then one more. Scoring like that wouldn't take you very far.
2-0. A razor-thin lead that would evaporate the moment the red-hot Grizzlies strung together one big inning.
Jeong In-woo had held firm through two outs in the top of the fourth. Then he gave up a hit, and came off the mound.
"...A chance? Pulling a pitcher who's been dealing like that, all of a sudden?"
Maybe a split fingernail, maybe something else — the Grizzlies' manager didn't know, and didn't care. He beamed.
"Now. This is the moment—"
And then he saw it: not a reliever jogging in from the bullpen, but that damned bastard walking over from shortstop — and he nearly had a stroke.
"...Son of a bitch. It was a targeted outing."
The strategy of taking the very heart of an opponent's offense and simply dropping a hammer on it.
"Hey there, friend. Your anti-doping device has arrived!"
Noh In-seong took the mound.
"...Son of a bitch, why is he showing up in my at-bat all of a sudden?!"
"You, apparently. He says he doesn't like you. So quit trying to peek at the signs and look ahead, why don't you."
Just as the hitter's timing settled into the rhythm of a sub-150 km/h sinkerballer—
"Strike!"
167 km/h. The southpaw fireballer drilled the strike zone at the very top, right beside the hitter's head.
Against a pitch that threatened your life before your timing ever arrived, there was no possible way to get the barrel out.
"Strike!"
The next offering was a sweeping 150 km/h slider that seemed to say, bend that front knee or it snaps — grazing the bottom of the zone—
"Strike three! Batter out!"
And on a curveball that fell dead from the middle of the zone, the bat whirled around in sheer disbelief. Strikeout.
Once the out was recorded and the inning changed, the position beside Noh In-seong's name flipped back to shortstop.
"Why are you doing this to me?! What did I ever do wrong to you?!"
That damned bastard waving at him again — and somehow it looked less like a greeting than like someone waving from across a river you'd never cross. Kim Seong-ju felt, in his bones, that his day had just become a very long one.
He struck him out — and then came the very next at-bat.
He retired him on a fly ball to the outfield — and then came the next at-bat after that.
THWAAACK—!!
"Ghhhaaaagh...!!"
"No, I'm TELLING you, when you keep bringing me in like this my command goes to hell!"
"Regardless, a fastball plunking is grounds for ejection! Whether there's further discipline after the fact, I can't say — but this will not stand! You're OUT!"
And even as he left the game in the top of the ninth with one out — having tattooed his signature onto the batter's back — Noh In-seong's pettiness refused to stop.
"See you before the All-Star break, you goddamn drugged-up son of a biiiiitch!!"
"Out, now, In-seong. If it looks like you're defying the umpire, there WILL be added discipline!"
--Drag him out! Hey! Grab his arms and legs!
For all the ugliness of his flailing, thrashing exit, the man left behind a wound that would never quite close. The Grizzlies never wanted to set eyes on that lunatic again.
It had been an ugly, filthy game, fraught with problems on every front.
But the Doubles closed out the first half of the season with a victory.