Chapter 57
Chapter 57
“Strikeout!”
Park Si-woo pitched from the first inning to the ninth without allowing a single run, carrying the mound all the way through.
It was his ninth complete-game shutout and his 19th win of the season.
“Seven consecutive wins!”
The Marines had achieved their first seven-game winning streak of the season.
After the game, almost every sports channel was talking about Park Si-woo.
“This season, the Marines aren’t a team that goes on long winning streaks. But they also don’t go on losing streaks. They’ve had two three-game losing streaks, one four-game losing streak, and never a losing streak of five or more games.”
Photos of several players appeared on the screen.
“The reason behind this is the strong starting rotation: Gale Davis, Danny Jones, Lee Dong-hoon, and Oh Kyung-soo.”
Gale Davis – 20 games, 125 innings, 12 wins, 4 losses, ERA 2.85, WAR 4.5
Danny Jones – 13 games, 85.1 innings, 7 wins, 3 losses, ERA 2.67, WAR 3.2
Lee Dong-hoon – 20 games, 115 innings, 8 wins, 6 losses, ERA 3.95, WAR 2.6
Oh Kyung-soo – 19 games, 98.2 innings, 8 wins, 8 losses, ERA 4.54, WAR 1.7
Even compared to the top starters of other teams, this rotation was not lacking at all.
But these players were the Marines’ second to fifth starters.
The photos disappeared, and one player’s image appeared.
21 games, 168 innings, 19 wins, no losses, ERA 0.43, WAR 12.2
Even the announcers had to rub their eyes to believe such stats.
“The reason the Marines’ rotation is stronger than other teams’ isn’t just the starters—it’s also thanks to Park Si-woo having a legendary season. Panelists, what do you think?”
Once they started talking about Park Si-woo, every commentator on the panel couldn’t help but marvel.
“In modern baseball, a starting pitcher maintaining a sub-1.00 ERA is virtually impossible. But Park Si-woo has maintained an ERA under 0.5, not just in the first half but all season.”
“And it’s not like he’s pitching few innings—168 innings. He’s averaging 8 innings per game and has long surpassed the minimum innings for official recognition. Even if Park Si-woo ended the season today, these stats would go down in the record books forever.”
The commentators could have spent hours just discussing Park Si-woo, but the producer’s intervention kept the broadcast on schedule.
“Now that each team has played 100 games, let’s look at the predicted standings. While fourth and fifth place are close, first, second, and third were unanimously predicted to be Busan Marines, Gwangju Wolves, and Seoul Friends.”
It was a natural result.
The Marines led by five games, and the Wolves were three games ahead of the Friends. Considering it usually takes about a month to close a three-game gap, their positions were unlikely to change suddenly.
This wasn’t just the commentators’ opinion.
Fans and players alike expected this gap to be difficult to overcome.
Only the Marines fans, who had been burned many times before, cautiously warned not to get too excited.
And so came the first game of August.
“Hey, you bastards! Here we go again!”
With fans’ frustration, the most crucial month began.
“I’m fine.”
Gale, who had 13 wins in the season but lost a game with just one out remaining, was surprisingly calm.
“Really. Even though Hyun-woo gave up two walks and Jung-won allowed a home run, sending us to extra innings, I’m fine.”
Gale had pitched 7 innings, giving up 2 runs. With a two-run lead, he left the mound, only for the bullpen to blow the win.
If the closer corps won every game, that would be ideal, but it’s unrealistic. Gale knew that and accepted it.
The key was to quickly shake off the disappointment.
“Bro! Check this out!”
Danny, who might have been burdened by yesterday’s loss, came running over with a wide grin.
“Hailey’s video went up yesterday, and everyone was praising it. Today, she’s performing with the cheerleaders on stage. Damn, is there no way to see it outside the game?”
I’d already seen that video.
Hailey had practiced winking, and the video captured players’ reactions. Fans who hadn’t watched it in person would feel left out.
“The producer made the video, so just enjoy it.”
“Ugh, I need to see it with my own eyes!”
Well, I couldn’t deny that.
Anyway, Danny watched as Hailey grabbed the mic and shouted, “Starting pitcher Danny Jones!”
He pitched 8 scoreless innings, showing the best game he’d had since coming to Korea.
“It’s okay. Really.”
Shockingly, the team lost 3-2.
The opposing pitcher had pitched well, but our closer, Park Jung-won, had collapsed for two consecutive days.
In the top of the ninth, a three-run homer immediately reversed the game.
“Hailey didn’t blame herself this time and watched with a smile. That’s a relief, right?”
“Yes. That’s really a relief.”
Still, the atmosphere was tense after two consecutive crushing losses.
The only consolation was that the next day was a rest day.
“Let’s take a breather and start fresh. Jung-won, don’t be discouraged. We all know you’re capable.”
Lee Dong-hoon rallied the team as we headed to our next away series in Gwangju.
This was a three-game series against the Gwangju Wolves, who had closed the gap to three games while we suffered two straight losses.
To maintain the team’s morale and to win the championship, it was crucial to take this series.
The Wolves were well prepared, knowing its importance.
“Why does that guy’s bicep look bigger than my thigh?”
Park Hyun-woo’s comment wasn’t an exaggeration.
The Wolves’ new foreign hitter, Lucas Ramirez.
Victor Lowell, last season’s hero in their upset, had been injured, forcing a roster change before August.
Ramirez had already hit 3 home runs in 4 games since joining the team, showcasing extraordinary power.
He had no obvious weaknesses yet and was our top priority to watch.
Still, in the matchup of fourth starters, Lee Dong-hoon held a slight advantage, so it was manageable.
“Jung-woo! Stay calm!”
But trouble started from the first inning.
A routine grounder was fumbled by shortstop Yoo Jung-woo, allowing a runner to reach base.
Another hit brought a man on first and third with no outs.
With the blaring trumpet, Lucas Ramirez appeared and launched a terrifying hit in the first inning.
“Out!”
Fortunately, Ha Seo-jin chased it down, but the runners advanced.
Another hit widened the gap to two runs, and we couldn’t close it for the rest of the game.
Three consecutive losses.
Though we’d had three-game losing streaks earlier this season, this felt worse.
The previous two losses were late-game comebacks, but today we were defeated outright by the Wolves.
The gap was now only two games.
We had barely pulled ahead, and suddenly they were right behind us.
The second game of the series came.
“On the Honam Line southbound train in the rain!”
The Wolves’ anthem played before the fifth inning.
Lucas Ramirez hit a grand slam, sealing the game.
Oh Kyung-soo left, and Lee Joo-won came up from the bullpen.
While he minimized further runs, the gap was too large to overcome.
A crushing 4-11 loss.
The atmosphere was dark.
I understood the players’ feelings.
But we were still in first place, and a win tomorrow would restore the gap.
Yet the mood remained grim—Park Hyun-woo didn’t even speak to me.
Danny and Gale, who joined the Marines this year, didn’t know why, and it was too delicate to ask other players.
So I went to a senior who had been performing well during this period.
“...Why is the team mood like this?”
“Yes. It seems worse than usual.”
Ha Seo-jin was surprised that I asked first and thought carefully about how to answer.
“August, right?”
“August?”
“Think about the Marines’ August when you were in Phoenix.”
Ah.
No deep thought needed—I remembered.
Back then, losing to the Marines in August wasn’t just a single loss; it was like losing two games. The team had to win no matter what.
August in the Marines was dreadful.
“If this had happened for just a year or two, it wouldn’t have been so bad. But it kept happening every year, and it was nothing new.”
Ha Seo-jin seemed indifferent, perhaps too worn out to care anymore.
That explained the next words, which were surprising coming from him.
“...I hope you don’t pitch tomorrow.”
“Huh?”
“I just hope you wait until the team wins. You know, if you pitch, we automatically assume we’ll win.”
“Yes. I understand.”
“And if that streak breaks? You’ve had a complete-game shutout and 19 wins. Too much is riding on it. You’ll have other opportunities, and it’ll be less pressure then.”
I was surprised—not by the words, but that they came from Ha Seo-jin.
He was a key player, usually stoic and distant.
“Ha. Never mind. Just ignore me.”
“Senior.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll pitch tomorrow. And we’ll win.”
Jinx? I’ve broken countless jinxes before.
I knew this team well.
So even more so:
“We’ll win to prove we deserve first place.”
“...It’s not easy when everyone’s eyes are on you.”
I understood now.
His words weren’t just concern—they came from experience.
“Yes. I understand.”
Ha Seo-jin met my eyes briefly and sighed.
“I sincerely hope you’re different from me.”
“...Is this real?”
“Yes. I knew it roughly, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”
Min-seok had explained the Marines’ post-August performance over the last ten years—it was terrible.
Ten years ago, a 27% win rate.
Fell to 7th place.
Not much changed afterward.
The highest win rate in those ten years was four years ago, just over 40%, when Ha Seo-jin won August MVP but ultimately finished sixth.
So that’s why he warned me.
“Are you okay?”
“Me? I wasn’t here during that period.”
Luckily, a few solid players like Min-seok, Danny, Gale, or rookies like Choi Woo-jin and Lee Joo-won were okay.
Otherwise, the mood was terrible.
“Do we have to flip a coin like last time?”
“If that fails, it’s a disaster.”
Back then, it was half-joking. Now, the atmosphere felt different.
“Can’t be helped.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll get the complete-game shutout, so you hit the home run.”
Min-seok blinked, then blinked faster.
“Bro?”
“Uh, sorry. I think I just heard something weird.”
I didn’t want to push it further—it would’ve broken him.
Min-seok seemed nervous, even unknowingly.
Knowing this, I was a little tense too.
Other players probably felt even worse.
Any mistake or error wouldn’t have been surprising.
So much was at stake—for me personally and for the team.
And the Wolves, knowing our situation, sent out Conan Gray as their starter.
Their ace, favorable against us.
We’d beaten him once this year, but last year’s memories would linger throughout the game.
In short, I couldn’t rely on anyone. I had to carry the game myself.
Ah.
It had been a while.
Call it “distrust baseball.”
Back when I was a rookie, the lineup rarely hit, fielders made mistakes, and the bullpen constantly blew games.
I’d try everything just to get strikeouts.
Of course, it might not be that extreme today.
Back then, I felt the entire universe was working against my victory.
“How’s it look?”
“Killing it. Even just with your knuckleball, they can’t touch it.”
Luckily, the knuckleball and hard knuckleball were moving well.
Still, in a game, unexpected things can happen.
So.
“I’ll throw the splitter too.”
Today, I intended to give it everything.