Chapter 63
Chapter 63
“Do you know the saying ‘two wins, one RBI’?”
“You mean two wins for the pitcher, one RBI for the batter?”
“Exactly. These days, there’s all this talk about sabermetrics and whatnot, but for an old-timer like me, this is the most intuitive stat.”
Igyuta smiled as if agreeing with the words of the Marlins’ de facto owner, the former chairman, but he knew that the chairman was one of the biggest believers in sabermetrics.
“In the past, saying a 20-win pitcher is worse than a 15-win pitcher made no sense. Nowadays, people go on about FIP, RA9, and all sorts of things. But a 20-win pitcher—simple and clear. That’s how good he is.”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Heh, you shouldn’t be saying that.”
The chairman chuckled at Igyuta’s response and continued.
“You know, people go wild over 20-win pitchers. It’s the romance of baseball.”
The reason people watch the game, something stats can’t fully explain.
“Fans cheer even when a near-forty-year-old pitcher throws a full hundred pitches and hangs his head in disappointment, or when a rookie with fire and confidence gives up a home run and gets pulled. That’s all the romance. Baseball is about breaking down, winning, seeing the players grow, feeling time slip away, and all of it coming together. But you know, my thinking has been changing lately.”
The chairman couldn’t hold back a faint laugh.
“Winning all the time… it’s more fun than I imagined.”
No need to ask who he meant.
No matter how busy he was, the chairman never missed a game when Park Siwoo was starting.
Every time he pitched, it was a win. There was no reason not to watch.
From his rookie season, armed with sheer guts, to seasons where he went 0–0 despite good stats, to injuries that almost destroyed his form—Park Siwoo had overcome all of it.
He learned the knuckleball in the offseason, shocked Marlins fans with a surprise opening game appearance, and then kept winning. Even landmines like Choi Myungjun couldn’t stop him, making the victories feel even sweeter.
“An incredible kid.”
“Yeah. Talented, and lucky too.”
Baseball is strange. A pitcher can give up nine runs over five innings and still be credited with a win, or throw nine innings with one run and take a loss. But Park Siwoo, aside from two no-decisions, had won every time. And even in those no-decisions, his team still won. That added up to 24 wins this season.
Finally, the chairman revealed why he had come to see Igyuta in person.
“Is he going for 30 wins?”
Even the chairman was curious; Park Siwoo’s pursuit of 30 wins was a hot topic.
Though Director Kwak firmly said it wouldn’t happen, the decision was ultimately up to the player.
“It’s still under discussion.”
“Right. Well, just make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”
Thirty wins. Twenty is already an incredible feat, but attempting thirty? Even in the KBO, it’s rare. It’s a record so great that it should almost never happen again.
Being able to challenge it alone proves he’s a legendary pitcher. And having such a pitcher on the Marlins? That’s the team’s ambition.
It was regrettable that he could only play for four years including this season.
“Treat him well.”
With great luck comes responsibility. That was the chairman’s principle and part of why he had gotten this far.
Once the chairman finished speaking and stood, Igyuta followed suit.
“Not bad. Isn’t this the busiest time? Oh, and if you win the championship, there’ll be some good news. We finally got a definite answer from those guys who keep changing their minds about the badge.”
The new stadium, almost finalized.
As the chairman left, he let out a hearty laugh at the thought.
“Paying them back for this will be tight.”
Money didn’t matter. Whatever the Marlins gave him would be meaningless once he reached the Major Leagues.
“Number 77.”
The chairman nodded, thinking of Park Siwoo’s jersey number.
“Fits perfectly.”
It was a number that would look right in the stadium, though they’d have to keep watching.
Through August, there had been almost no days off except Mondays. From September onward, there would be at most four or five games a week.
“Rotation can be adjusted if you want it.”
I was surprised at the manager’s offer. It meant I’d pitch in many games, but it wasn’t necessarily good for the team. Adjusting my rotation would disrupt the other starters.
“Don’t worry about that. The starters suggested it first.”
“…Really?”
I knew how sensitive starters were about their routines and rotations. With less than twenty games left, even in September, I’d have at most five or six starts. If I pitched six games and won them all, that’d be thirty wins. Nearly impossible, but being able to try mattered.
“Pitch counts will still be limited to 80. If a win isn’t achieved, rotations might be adjusted again.”
It was a little strange. The manager had seemed completely opposed before.
“Tsk. One goes out, the next comes in. Can’t be helped. Starters even came into the office for rotation themselves, after all. But this time, it’s your choice.”
I thought for a moment and nodded.
“Yes. I’ll do it.”
Thirty wins.
Just being able to challenge such a record in my career was an honor. It was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
News of my attempt quickly spread among the players.
“I knew it. You have to go for it.”
Gale was the first to cheer, smiling.
Da-da-da-da-da—
“Run like that, you’ll get hurt.”
Hailey dashed over and hugged me. Danny, who had come along with her, whispered to me, curious.
“What did she say?”
“A secret.”
Danny looked hurt when Hailey shook her head and looked at me. No matter how much he doted on his daughter, he’d be annoyed that she supported me more than him.
“Hailey! Hailey!”
After cheering for Hailey dancing with Danny, I went to see Senior Lee Donghoon.
“Thanks, senior.”
“Huh? What did I do? Oh, that? I just reminded you to keep your promise.”
Lee Donghoon turned shy and dodged the question.
“Keep that promise.”
“But you never said what championship it was, right?”
“Both. We need the overall championship.”
“Isn’t that cheating?”
“There’s already video proof. Convince the fans first if you want to back out.”
That was a little hard even for me.
“Can’t be helped.”
“Good. Just make sure to watch your health. Records, no, championships matter, but right now you matter more. Got it?”
“Yes, that much?”
“Exactly. Be careful.”
After Senior Lee patted my shoulder and left, I met Senior Oh Kyungsoo.
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m in the bullpen anyway.”
The September rotation would be flexible, so the five starting slots didn’t need to be fully filled. That’s why Senior Oh, who had been a fifth starter, temporarily moved to the bullpen.
I still had to pay attention, though, because if a starter spot opened, he might suddenly pitch again.
“Still, thank you.”
“I’ll always back you up from the bullpen. Don’t feel pressured to do it all yourself.”
Hearing that from Oh Kyungsoo made me feel reassured.
“And me?”
“I’m always grateful for you.”
“Good. Do well. Mention my name in an interview.”
Senior Park Hyunwoo, like everyone else, supported my record, pitcher or batter alike.
“But what if we lose the first game?”
“…You need to look out for me. Were you trying to make my heart stop?”
Thanks to Minseok, who worried about my share too, I wasn’t too nervous.
The first game in September began.
The opponent was Daegu Ace.
Currently fifth, Daegu Ace was eyeing fourth place.
They wouldn’t just avoid me because I was pitching.
The manager had already said in an interview that my pitch count would be capped at 80.
The opposing batters would rush to take that pitch count away, and my task was simple.
“Bwooooom!”
“Strike!”
Just let them choose, that’s all.
[Season 25 wins for Park Siwoo: “Not sure if I can do it, but if the chance comes, I’ll try. Winning the championship comes first.”]
When this interview spread, the KBO went wild.
Only five wins to go.
Some said it was possible, others doubted, given the number of remaining games. Opinions varied.
Park Siwoo quietly prepared for the next game.
Around this time, Marlins fans started performing rain rituals.
If it rains, he might pitch one more game, yes yes
“Please, please, please, please!”
“Wouldn’t it be bad if it rained on Park Siwoo’s start?”
“No, he’s a reverse Rainman, it’s fine.”
Fans wanted him to have at least one small break, just in case.
But the weather had almost no effect—games rarely got canceled.
In his second start of September, against Seoul Challengers at Sajik, Park Siwoo easily earned his 26th win.
The Challengers, out of the rank race, fielded mostly second-string players. For them, Park Siwoo was both a huge obstacle and a great experience.
In the third game, he only threw knuckleballs.
Fatigue was the main reason, and the movement on his knuckleballs was especially good that day.
When Park Siwoo left, the score was 2–1.
Oh Kyungsoo came in during the seventh.
Park Siwoo’s pitch count was still manageable, but Director Kwak trusted Oh Kyungsoo.
And Oh Kyungsoo kept his word.
“Strikeout!”
He gave up a hit but closed the inning with a double play and strikeout, protecting the one-run lead.
Later, the batters scored and the team comfortably earned the 27th win.
Oh Kyungsoo said in an interview:
“On days Siwoo starts, our team always wins. Right now, all the players are thinking the same thing. We have to win.”
For Park Siwoo, for the championship.
Marlins had stumbled countless times before, but now they were gaining what had been missing.
Winning experience.
Thanks to Park Siwoo, the team continued to accumulate those victories. Marlins were now showing the scent of a strong team.
“Bwaaaang!”
Ha Seojin! Walk-off!!!
The championship was near.
Strikeout! Game over! Marlins’ magic number is now down to six!
The players knew it.
“Bwaaaang!”
Good defense leads to Cha Jaehoon’s RBI! Marlins take the lead again!
No need to rush.
Kim Mingi catches and throws to first! Out! Out! Park Siwoo reaches 28 wins this season!
They knew that if they took it slow, Park Siwoo would secure the championship.
Meanwhile, the Wolves were panicking.
If the magic number dropped further, they couldn’t come back.
The rush caused errors, mistakes.
The Wolves lost, Marlins won, and the magic number dropped to one.
The next day, Park Siwoo took the mound to clinch the championship.