Chapter 17
Chapter 17
The choice was mine.
Until I spoke up first, no one told me to get ready.
Max Dalton was pitching so badly that I was loosening up a bit, but not enough to actually go in.
If I had just stayed like that, I would’ve warmed up moderately and gone in during the comfortable moment the coach had promised.
But then, how would that be any different from when I was in Phoenix?
Throwing pitch after pitch in games where the result was already decided, getting cursed at for things that weren’t even my fault.
I’d done that enough to be sick of it.
More than anything,
I was afraid.
If, just if, that misfortune came back the moment I stepped onto the mound?
I had lost my velocity on the mound, and I had nearly gotten seriously injured after being hit by a ball.
Not just the small mistakes from my teammates, but even I had collapsed to the point where I couldn’t trust myself.
But what if this time, the misfortune came back even worse? What if I couldn’t throw a ball ever again?
It was something I didn’t even want to think about, but I was afraid.
So if, just if that kind of thing were to happen, I didn’t want it to be in a game where defeat was already waiting for me. I wanted it to be a game I chose.
Opening game starter.
Sounds cool, doesn’t it?
Three runs already given up, bases loaded, but not a single out recorded.
So couldn’t that count as being the starter?
Ha.
Thinking about it like this, I really must be crazy.
Whatever.
I had loosened up enough while throwing, and since it was a dome stadium, the movement of the ball felt good.
Soon, my warm-up time ended, and Minseok hyung called for time and walked up to the mound.
"No regrets?"
"Are you okay, hyung?"
"Me? Heh, I feel like I’m going crazy. Starting catcher for the opening game. If I knew this would happen, I would’ve gotten tickets for my parents."
...Have we started thinking alike after spending so much time together?
Honestly, it wasn’t a comfortable situation for Minseok hyung either.
Bases loaded, and a knuckleball. It was bound to be a burden for the catcher.
"Let’s just do what we always do."
"Okay. Let’s show them what we’ve been working on."
We lightly bumped fists, and Minseok hyung returned to his position.
I wasn’t worried about him.
I just had to do my part.
"Play ball!"
My first opponent was the Friends’ seventh batter.
I knew him well since we’d faced each other a few times, but considering the pitch I was about to throw, I wondered if any of that information even mattered.
The trajectory would be something none of us had ever seen before. Me throwing it, the batter trying to hit it, even Minseok hyung catching it.
No sign was needed.
I placed the tips of my middle and index fingers on top of the ball.
I had already decided what I would throw before stepping onto the mound.
Bases loaded. If even one pitch got away, it would mean a run.
Throwing a hard knuckleball was too risky.
I would’ve needed more warm-up to throw that properly anyway.
At least for this inning, I had to get through it with just one type of knuckleball.
Minseok hyung met my eyes, nodded, and opened his mitt wide.
I pushed the ball firmly with my fingers, and it flew as if it had stopped in midair.
It headed straight toward the mitt without any movement—
Then suddenly curved sharply and dropped.
But it didn’t leave the zone.
"Strike!"
The batter let the first pitch go, as if he planned to watch.
Whatever his intention was, it didn’t matter.
I got a strike.
And if he was planning to wait one more pitch—
"Strike!"
That just worked in my favor.
Maybe because it was a dome, my control felt stable.
0-2. Now the batter couldn’t just watch anymore.
The ball flew again.
This time, the trajectory was different.
It looked like it was coming right at the left-handed batter.
The batter didn’t even flinch, as if he was ready to get hit.
But the ball betrayed that expectation.
"Strikeout!"
The ABS system rang out.
The batter, who hadn’t swung even once, glared at me in frustration before walking off.
That was just one out.
But it felt as good as finishing the entire game.
Of course, there were still two outs left.
"Strikeout!"
I was certain now.
Today, my luck—
"Strikeout!"
—was perfect.
When Kim Mingi was replaced, everyone was confused.
Usually, replacing a catcher early meant the manager believed the catcher was at fault.
But with the pitcher throwing like that, what was Kim Mingi supposed to do?
When Song Minseok came in, and the name of the new pitcher was announced, people finally understood why the catcher had been changed.
"Seriously? They’re putting in Park Siu?"
No one had expected it.
No one thought Park Siu, who had been carefully hidden all this time, would appear at this moment.
And the situation was the worst possible.
Bases loaded, no outs.
They had already given up three runs. If more runs were allowed, the balance of the game would completely collapse.
"The manager made a bold decision. What do you think?"
"Well… it’s good to trust Park Siu, but wouldn’t it have been better to bring him in during a more comfortable situation? This might be too much of a burden for a young player."
"Has our manager gone senile?"
"putting Park Siu in here?"
"If they were going to use him like this, why hide him all this time?"
"One wild pitch and it’s a run. Is this for real?"
"But it’s not completely unreasonable. Knuckleball pitchers do warm up quickly. Honestly, instead of sending in someone like Choi Jiho without warming up, Park Siu might be better"
Until Park Siu actually threw a pitch, no one truly understood the decision.
Even more so when they had just been watching 150 km/h fastballs, and now saw Park Siu throwing barely over 110 km/h, it sent chills down their spines.
But when the first out was recorded—
"Strikeout! The Marines battery gets a huge out!"
"Seriously… that’s all I can say. Even veteran players would feel pressure in this situation. That was an incredible pitch!"
"Park Siu strikes out his first batter looking"
"Welcome to the clueless baseball gallery"
"ABS zone"
"Wow, what kind of pitch moves like that?"
"So it’s true the catcher couldn’t catch it before"
And when the second out was recorded—
"Swing and a miss, strikeout! Park Siu and Song Minseok, who came in with bases loaded, now need just one more out!"
"That pitch just now… it’s hard to even describe how it moved. Park Siu threw an amazing pitch, and Song Minseok caught it perfectly!"
"So this is why they call the knuckleball a freak pitch"
"They can’t even hit a 110 km/h meatball"
"How is Song Minseok even catching that? Didn’t he used to miss fastballs sometimes?"
"If this were the Marines I know, they’d give up a run here"
"True baseball expert"
"Damn, they almost gave up a run there; how did that not get past him"
"Song Minseok earning his paycheck"
Until the final out was recorded,
everyone watching the game shared the constantly shifting emotions in real time.
Anxiety, anticipation, cheers, euphoria.
And Coach Kwak Gubeom wasn’t much different.
This had been a decision he agonized over until the very end.
Bases loaded was not a good situation for a knuckleball pitcher who was prone to wild pitches.
It wasn’t the comfortable situation he had promised Park Siu either.
It could even look like he was placing a burden on a pitcher who had just begun to recover.
No matter how he thought about it, it would’ve made more sense to send in Lee Geonwoo instead of Park Siu, who had no data yet.
But one thought kept circling in his mind.
What if it works?
Could there be a more perfect stage for Park Siu’s debut than this?
Not 99 percent safety.
A 1 percent gamble.
"Park Siu! Park Siu! Park Siu! Park Siu! Park Siu!"
This was the result.
Cheers poured out so loudly that it was hard to believe they were from fans of a team losing by three runs in the first inning.
Coach Kwak Gubeom watched Park Siu returning to the dugout for a moment, then spoke to the pitching coach.
It was still too early to celebrate.
The game had only just finished the bottom of the first.
"For now, we go with Siu."
"Yes. Then how long do we let him go?"
After a brief pause, Kwak Gubeom answered.
"Until he gives up a run."
That was his way of repaying the player who had repaid his trust.
Even after wasting a bases-loaded opportunity, the Seoul Friends players didn’t feel much pressure.
"How’s the pitch? Does it really move like a drunk butterfly?"
"Come on, that’s just how people describe it."
"But it really is good. I just… I don’t even know how to explain it."
It was definitely a good pitch.
But that was all.
The batters Park Siu had faced were the relatively weaker bottom of the lineup.
In fact, the Friends’ leadoff hitter, Kang Hyukwoo, aggressively attacked the first pitch and got on base.
"Nice hit. Good swing."
At the first base coach’s words, Kang Hyukwoo gave an awkward smile instead of answering.
...What was that?
He just swung, and the ball happened to meet the bat.
And it turned into a hit.
Well, as long as the result is good.
Kang Hyukwoo’s job was to get on base.
Now that he had succeeded, it was time to use his specialty.
"Safe!"
Easy. Too easy.
Even though he ran after seeing the pitch, he made it to second base comfortably.
Honestly, it felt like he could even steal home if he wanted.
But instead of taking that risk, he stayed put.
He fully believed the heart of the lineup would bring him home.
And a few minutes later—
"Strikeout!"
He had no choice but to walk back to the dugout from second base.
From second base, what he saw from the batters was bizarre.
They were swinging and missing at slow 110 km/h pitches like they were possessed.
"Hey, Hyukwoo. How’d you hit that?"
"...It just came to the bat."
"Wow, you must be in great form today. That’s all it took?"
Kang Hyukwoo was left speechless.
Because that’s really what happened.
Anyway, the Friends missed their chance to widen the score, but they didn’t think much of it.
"Out!"
Their ace, Drake McNeil, was completely shutting down the Marines lineup.
As long as the score stayed like this, victory seemed certain.
But as more zeros appeared on the scoreboard, they began to feel that something was off.
The score was 0 to 3, yet by the fifth inning, Park Siu had only allowed two hits.
Both of them from Kang Hyukwoo.
Because of that, Kang Hyukwoo began to have a thought.
Do I match well against him?
It wasn’t a strange thought.
The Friends’ best hitters were all struggling against Park Siu.
Was it poor batting condition? No.
They had been hitting well just two hours ago.
...Alright. Today’s my day. Just give me a chance.
Was he right?
"Park Siu walks back-to-back batters! The bottom of the Friends lineup creates an opportunity! Two outs, runners on first and second, and Kang Hyukwoo, who already has two hits against Park Siu today, steps up to bat!"
His chance had come.
Song Minseok and the pitching coach went up to the mound.
...Are they going to change him?
But there was no substitution.
Kang Hyukwoo smirked slightly.
The knuckleball was confusing at first, but he was starting to get a feel for it.
Aside from not knowing where it would go, it was just a weak 110 km/h pitch.
All he had to do was make contact.
Then, like his previous at-bats, it would result in something.
But that thought—
"Thud!"
"Strike!"
—was shattered on the first pitch.
"...Hey. What is that?"
"It’s a knuckleball."
"...That?"
The moment he thought it was faster than before, the ball disappeared from his sight.
Then he heard a sound from below, and the ball was already in Song Minseok’s mitt.
He quickly checked the speed.
129 km/h.
But it felt like 150.
The problem was that both Park Siu, who threw it, and Song Minseok, who caught it, looked completely calm.
At that moment, a realization flashed through Kang Hyukwoo’s mind.
So… he hadn’t been using this pitch until now?
The moment he realized that, his vision went blank.
And then—
"Thud!"
"Strikeout!"
The luck he had today—
ended right there.
From that moment on, the atmosphere completely shifted.
Just when the Friends thought they had figured out the knuckleball, Park Siu brought out something unexpected.
They couldn’t even properly see the 110 km/h pitches, and now a 130 km/h knuckleball?
What the hell is this guy?
They couldn’t even think about hitting it.
If they hadn’t scored off Max Dalton in the first inning…
Those thoughts began to consume the Friends players.
And the Marines players felt the same way.
This might actually be doable.
If we can just get on base somehow, we’ve got a chance.
No one expected the game to become this tight.
The Marines had only three offensive chances left.
The problem was that Drake McNeil was still going strong.
By the sixth inning, the Marines had only gotten on base twice.
His pitch count was only 70, so he could go until the eighth.
And Ha Seojin, who had one of those times on base, stepped up as the leadoff batter in the seventh.
"Crack!"
With another clean hit, Ha Seojin proved that his first-inning hit was no fluke.
Next was the foreign batter, Rex Graves.
He had struck out looking twice in his previous at-bats.
An overly aggressive hitter.
And what the Marines needed from him was just one thing.
A big hit.
"Craaaack!"
For a moment, the stadium fell silent, as if the power had gone out—
Then an explosive roar shook the Jamsil Dome.
The Marines’ scoreboard, which had only shown zeros, finally changed.
Score: 2 to 3.
Still not enough for victory, but—
"Damn it, just change the pitcher already."
"They’re not seriously sending him out again, right?"
At the moment Park Siu walked back onto the mound,
for that moment—
the Marines were the ones controlling the game.