Chapter 20
Chapter 20
When Rex arrived at the dugout and let out a roar, it sounded like something straight out of a wildlife documentary.
That explosive energy instantly heated up the entire dugout.
So of course, I started wanting more.
I didn’t want to come down.
Until the very end of today’s game, I didn’t want to leave the mound.
But we’d already made up two runs.
At any moment, it wouldn’t be strange for them to bring in the bullpen.
Maybe that’s why—I found myself lingering around the pitching coach and the manager without realizing it.
Then, as two outs went up, the pitching coach finally called me.
“Siwoo, what are you doing? You should start warming up.”
“…Yes, sir!”
I’m going back up on the mound.
I didn’t know something so simple could feel this good.
Whew. Calm down.
Whether this is Opening Day or Game 7 of the Korean Series, I have to stay composed.
It wasn’t easy, but the moment I saw the batter step in, I relaxed a bit.
Friends’ number two hitter, senior Baek Hogi.
Whenever we met on the mound, he always looked at me with ease and hit my pitches like he’d been waiting for them.
But the Baek Hogi standing at the plate now had none of that composure.
Still, it didn’t feel unfamiliar.
In his first season, he used to wear that same expression at the plate.
Come to think of it, it wasn’t just him.
Most of the Friends batters I faced today were like that.
And back then and now, the results were the same.
“Strike!”
The knuckleball came in a bit high, but ABS called it.
It was an incredibly frustrating situation, but Baek Hogi just spat once and reset.
Well, it wasn’t like this was the first time today.
Even if he pretended to be fine, he was probably boiling inside.
It wasn’t his fault, but the count turned against him just because of bad luck.
I knew that feeling better than anyone.
And I knew what people usually do next.
—Thwack!
“Strike!”
The bat came out again, trying to make contact somehow, but it returned empty.
He swung and missed at a pitch that nearly touched the ground.
Right after that, I checked the sign and placed three fingers on the ball.
Baek Hogi probably expected it.
If I was going to throw this pitch, now was the time.
But if you can hit it just because you expect it, you should’ve hit my earlier pitches first.
—Thwack!
“Strike—out!”
First out recorded.
The next batter was even easier.
The foreign hitter from Phoenix who hit a home run off Max Dalton in the first inning.
Maybe thinking back to that moment, he went for an aggressive swing right from the first pitch—
and popped it up.
Infield.
“Out!”
“Watch the ball before you swing!”
As the heart of the lineup quickly piled up two outs, the Friends fans started getting louder.
But ironically, first pitch again.
—Crack!
The ball hit off the hard knuckleball rolled weakly toward me, and I casually threw it to first.
Three pitches, one pitch, one pitch.
It took just five pitches to end the bottom of the 7th.
My pitch count was only at 80.
Even if they told me to throw 80 more, I felt like I could.
Back in the dugout, I sat near the manager and pitching coach again.
And this time, the reaction came immediately.
“Siwoo, I get it, so go sit somewhere comfortable.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry.”
“No, Kim. Did you just make our Siwoo apologize? Huh, didn’t think you were that kind of person.”
“Ma-manager?”
Everyone nearby was shocked at the sudden comment.
So was I.
The manager saying something like that?
“What are you looking at! The game over already? The pitcher changed—go score some runs! If we don’t win today, you’re all walking back to the hotel! Got it!?”
“Yes!”
—
Some people say,
the biggest difference between strong and weak teams is the ability to squeeze out a run when it’s needed.
In that sense, the Marines were the weaker team, and the Friends were the stronger one.
Both teams had two chances left.
And both had the same goal.
“The pitcher changed—tie it up somehow! Think about the rest after!”
“Alright, just one more run. It’s the first game—let’s ease Hyungyu’s burden.”
The Marines wanted the tie.
The Friends wanted an insurance run.
The Marines were up first.
Leadoff batter: number 8, Song Minseok.
He entered as catcher in place of Kim Mingi in the first inning and was 0-for-2 so far.
His batting wasn’t particularly impressive compared to other catchers.
But he had clear strengths.
Once he set his mind on something, he went all out.
And he was faster than most catchers.
—Crack!
Not a well-hit ball by any means.
Minseok tossed his bat aside and sprinted to first with everything he had.
“Safe! Safe!”
Even before stepping on the base, he shouted desperately while staring at the umpire.
‘Please.’
“Safe!”
“Gaaah! Siwoo! I did something!”
Back-to-back innings with a leadoff runner on base.
“The tying run for the Marines is on first!”
“Now the question is, will they bring in a pinch runner?”
Top of the 8th. Just one run to tie.
Minseok was fast, but not as fast as a dedicated pinch runner.
Still, they didn’t make a change.
“This likely means Park Siwoo could pitch the 8th as well.”
“That shows just how much Manager Kwak trusts him.”
“He’s proven it. His pitches today have been perfect. Ah—the batter is already squaring for a bunt.”
The number 9 hitter, 0-for-2 today.
A predictable choice.
It was close, but they successfully advanced Minseok to second.
One out, runner on second.
Their first scoring chance of the day.
—Crack!
Maybe Rex Graves’ earlier hit had broken the lineup’s slump.
A sharp grounder shot through the infield, and Minseok rounded third before stopping abruptly.
Now a sacrifice fly or a decent grounder would tie the game.
One out, runners on first and third.
And Choi Sunggyu, the Friends’ setup man with 27 holds last season, couldn’t handle the pressure.
“Ball!”
A walk.
Bases loaded.
And stepping in was the batter the Friends most wanted to avoid.
“Wooooah!”
“Ha! Seo! Jin! Ha Seo Jin!”
Amid roaring cheers, Ha Seojin stepped up—and the Friends made their move.
“You can see Han Hyungyu warming up in the bullpen!”
The closer, brought in early.
They were determined to win this game.
But coming in rushed, Han Hyungyu wasn’t in top condition.
And on the most important first pitch, a critical mistake happened.
“The catcher drops it! The ball gets away! The runner from third—!”
The pitch went somewhere completely off the sign, hit the mitt awkwardly, and bounced away.
As the catcher scrambled for it, the Marines’ runner dove for home.
Hyungyu got the ball and tried to tag Minseok—
“Safe!”
Tie game.
The one run that had been so hard to score was finally made.
Covered in dirt, Minseok ran to the dugout, celebrating with Siwoo.
“Siwoo!”
They embraced, not caring about dirt or sweat.
And the Marines weren’t done yet.
While the defense was distracted, the runner on second advanced to third.
—Crack!
Ha Seojin was a hitter capable of driving that runner home.
“The runner from third scores! With a sacrifice fly, the Marines take the lead in the 8th!”
Now the Marines were no longer chasing—they were being chased.
But they didn’t choose the bullpen.
As the inning ended, cameras captured Siwoo walking out with Minseok.
Some might question why they weren’t bringing in the bullpen.
But to anyone who had watched the game, the decision was obvious.
After seven scoreless innings, who else would you put in?
Trusting Manager Kwak, Siwoo dismantled the Friends lineup with his knuckleball and hard knuckleball combination.
“Fans might be confused. These are players who easily hit 150 km/h pitches. But what they’re feeling now is faster than that.”
“Strike! You mean that pitch?”
“Yes. Hitters train for the starter’s velocity. Then suddenly Siwoo comes in throwing 110 km/h knuckleballs. Just when they adjust, he throws something 20 km/h faster. That gap is impossible to overcome quickly.”
“And the ball moves unpredictably.”
“That’s the biggest problem.”
—Crack!
“Out!”
Routine grounder. One out.
“Strikeout!”
Ninth strikeout of the game. Two outs.
Then, just as Siwoo was about to get the final out—
“Are you insane?!”
A mistake happened in the infield.
The shortstop’s throw went off, and the first baseman came off the bag.
Safe.
An error.
“Siwoo, sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
He meant it.
‘Now it feels real.’
Fielding errors had always followed him.
At first, fielders apologized.
Eventually, they started blaming him.
Getting an apology now felt… new.
But for the Friends, a runner was on base with two outs.
A chance they couldn’t waste.
“They’re bringing in Min Byeongcheol as a pinch hitter!”
Facing a knuckleball for the first time, he quickly fell behind.
It seemed like another easy out.
Then, for the first time today—
a mistake.
130 km/h.
A fastball with spin—suddenly just a flat, slow pitch.
—Crack!
“To left-center! A clean RBI hit! The runner from first is speeding up!”
“…Whew.”
Siwoo watched the ball briefly, then ran behind the catcher.
With two outs, the runner would definitely score.
‘Winning might be tough.’
So frustrating.
He’d pitched so well—why now?
Just one better pitch would’ve done it.
Should he have been taken out?
Was it the error?
The word “bad luck” crept in.
But then—
commotion in the outfield.
Ha Seojin waved his hands.
The umpire checked—
“Ground-rule double! Batter to second, runner to third!”
“The ball got stuck in the fence! What an unfortunate result for the Friends!”
“Ha…”
Siwoo sat down for a moment.
He thought the game was tied.
But luck had come back.
Still, it wasn’t over.
Runners in scoring position again.
Then Manager Kwak came to the mound.
“Siwoo.”
“Yes.”
“You can do it.”
“…Yes.”
“Finish it.”
Siwoo hesitated, then nodded.
“Yes. I’ll wrap it up quickly.”
As the manager returned, the pitching coach asked carefully,
“Shouldn’t we replace him?”
“Well… we should have.”
“…Pardon?”
“If it were you, could you tell your ace to come down here?”
“…Ace?”
It was opening day.
And technically, the starter.
But Siwoo was the reliever.
“Just joking.”
But some people might think that.
Like those cheering fans.
“Starting pitcher! Park Siwoo! Strikeout! Park Siwoo!”
He was already their ace.
“Just one more!”
“Stay calm!”
“Strikeout!”