Chapter 67
Chapter 67
“Which team do you think will win?”
“Probably the ace will win it without trouble.”
I nodded at senior Lee Donghoon’s words.
In the Wild Card game, the structure overwhelmingly favors the 4th-place team, even if the matchup is close.
The 4th-place team only needs one win or one tie to advance to the semifinals, while the 5th-place team has to win two straight games.
Anyway, we were gathered at Lee Donghoon’s house.
We’d agreed yesterday during training to watch the Wild Card game together.
“Why at my place, though?”
“Because among us, only you and Siwoo live alone.”
“Then hurry up and get married if you’re annoyed.”
“…Ugh.”
Senior Kim Mingi had two kids, and senior Park Hyunwoo was married.
Minseok lived with his parents, and my house was too small for everyone.
“Still, if we win this, you could get married, right?”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
Park Hyunwoo grinned, fiddled with his phone, and showed me the screen.
“…Going all out today?”
On the screen was a young Lee Donghoon saying he’d get married after winning.
“Argh! Siwoo…”
Park Hyunwoo tapped and called me over, but even I thought that was too much.
Instead, I checked both teams’ lineups.
“Senior Heo Min and senior Tae Yongho?”
“That’s why competing till the end of the season is tough.”
The Wild Card game starts just two days after the regular season ends.
If rankings aren’t finalized quickly, pitchers can’t be rested.
The same applies to the semifinals and finals.
That’s why the KBO is always said to heavily favor the 1st-place team.
We could enter the Korean Series with our full strength preserved.
Of course, upsets still happen.
The last two Korean Series had upsets despite only seven in total history.
Thinking of that, we couldn’t just relax.
“They won this one.”
The first Wild Card game ended with a Seoul Falcons victory.
Starting pitcher Heo Min threw seven innings with just two runs, securing the win.
“He’s gotten better since the second half.”
His splitter had improved more than any other pitch.
Watching the game, I felt restless, eager.
Desperate, intense.
A side of the players you couldn’t see in the regular season.
Seeing that, I finally realized it.
Autumn baseball had begun, and everyone played for the championship.
You couldn’t pitch as if it were the regular season.
Just realizing that made watching today worthwhile.
A few days later, training finally started.
“Jungwon’s fine. But Hyunwoo’s velocity isn’t coming up as expected.”
“Let’s wait and see. Good work.”
Coach Gwak nodded and left.
The Marines, preparing for the Korean Series, were feeling the toll of the regular season.
Few players had been sidelined with injuries during the season.
At most, about a month.
‘We got lucky.’
But most starters had logged heavy innings, and fatigue was catching up.
Park Hyunwoo was one of them.
‘And they just lack experience.’
Most Marines players had come up through the team.
Which meant most of them were experiencing autumn baseball for the first time.
And that it was the Korean Series added both opportunity and pressure.
Managing that was the coach’s job.
‘Better to bring them up through real games than overtraining.’
The question was who would help the Marines.
They had one practice game against Sangmu, but just one.
‘We’ll fill the rest with an intra-squad game.’
Being the 1st-place team was lonely as well as advantageous.
Coach Gwak made that decision, but when he got a call from director Lee Kyutae, he couldn’t help asking again.
“Is that really true?”
—Yes. Phoenix said they’d help with a practice game.
There was no reason to refuse.
‘They made a big decision.’
Phoenix was the team with the worst fan sentiment right now.
And yet, during the finishing training, they agreed to play the Marines?
Not an easy decision.
But the new director had strongly insisted.
We didn’t know the full story, but it was good for the Marines.
“Thanks for coming.”
“No problem. We want to help too.”
On the day Seoul Friends faced the Daegu Aces—who beat the Gwangju Wolves in the Wild Card—Phoenix came to Sajik for a practice game.
Though many starters were absent, it was roughly a 1.5 squad level.
Phoenix hadn’t taken this lightly either.
‘We were preparing for this until last year.’
The Phoenix players wore bitter expressions.
That frustration fueled them.
“Since we’re here, let’s win.”
Captain Park Chanhyuk’s words fired them up.
Reaching the Korean Series three years in a row wasn’t due to one player.
Phoenix still had resilience and could compete.
But their opponent was Park Siwoo, who had single-handedly carried a last-place team to first place.
He might not pitch long innings, but his presence alone crushed the morale of the other team.
“Play ball!”
The umpire’s call was followed by a heavy four-seam fastball inside.
“Ball!”
It was, but Park Siwoo gave Park Chanhyuk a slight grin.
‘You never get tired, huh?’
After receiving Siwoo’s 159 km/h greeting, Park Chanhyuk let out a short laugh and prepared for his at-bat.
When the practice game was arranged, Park Siwoo had asked Park Chanhyuk,
‘Treat it like the Korean Series…’
Even without the request, they’d have played seriously, and Phoenix batters readily agreed.
“Phew.”
The best approach against Siwoo was to make balls in play and pray—be it an error or BABIP luck.
-Whack!
The plan worked.
A ball deep inside the zone was pulled toward second base.
He pressured the weak fielding Cha Jaehoon.
“Out!”
Cha Jaehoon handled it expertly.
After his mistake in the final game, he had trained diligently, spending much of practice on fielding drills.
‘Luckily it wasn’t the Korean Series 7th game; I couldn’t have made it to Sajik fully healthy.’
The practice wasn’t long, so changes weren’t dramatic.
Still, focused areas had improved.
For example, reacting to borderline balls when a left-handed batter ran full speed, like Park Chanhyuk did.
“Safe!”
‘Hah.’
A ball came between Park Siwoo and Cha Jaehoon.
Cha Jaehoon hurriedly threw to first, but the runner was safe.
“Sorry.”
“No problem. Couldn’t help it.”
Siwoo was sincere.
The ball was slow and in a good spot; impossible to make the play.
‘Focus.’
The next batter’s ball came rapidly toward Cha Jaehoon.
“Out!”
“Out!”
Ending the inning with a double play.
‘Good. Calm.’
Cha Jaehoon comforted himself but noticed something odd.
‘All the balls are coming my way.’
He brushed it off while heading to the on-deck circle.
And it wasn’t his imagination.
“What do you think?”
“Throwing near the zone makes swings come out immediately.”
“Yeah.”
“No point going long against you; bat comes out easier than expected.”
A different pattern than usual.
During the season, Siwoo usually dominated with sheer pitching power or deceived with knuckleballs and splitters for strikeouts.
But the Korean Series was slightly different.
Batters’ concentration peaked, and you never knew what tactics they’d prepare.
‘It was the same with Phoenix.’
Even if he couldn’t make the roster, word got around about what the Wolves did against Choi Myungjun.
So they tested multiple situations.
Siwoo’s main concern in preparation was pitching efficiently while finishing innings.
The Korean Series has seven games.
If Siwoo starts the first, he’d get two starts.
How to pitch without accumulating fatigue—he was experimenting.
All the induced balls ended up with Cha Jaehoon.
And there was another tool: the knuckleball.
It hardly uses stamina, allowing him to pitch more innings.
“The best is to finish by Game 4.”
“Exactly.”
No matter the opponent, both teams had experienced postseason players with knowledge and know-how.
That difference was significant.
Especially the Wolves, who had caused last season’s upset.
Their past experience would give them confidence.
“Should we throw slightly outside the zone in the 2nd inning? See if they still swing?”
“Good…”
-Whack!
Just as Song Minseok was about to reply, a loud crack echoed through Sajik Stadium.
“Oh, nice!”
“Jaehoon’s hitting is insane lately.”
Cha Jaehoon hit a solo home run over the fence and returned to the dugout.
“If he keeps this up until the Korean Series, it’ll be reassuring…”
How his timid nature would play out in the Series remained to be seen.
Siwoo pitched the 2nd inning slightly further from the zone.
‘Okay. This is tough.’
After gauging the batters, he boldly threw.
Three up, three down, then 3rd inning, knuckleballs.
‘Hah, this pitch…’
The batter struck out, looking exasperated.
Could anyone hit this on a good day?
A mistake pitch? The four-seam over 150 km/h or a splitter in the mid-140s would drop with insane movement.
But ignoring it, the slow speed lingered in their mind.
Swinging made them miss.
‘No wonder he has those stats.’
Ending his appearance with 3 innings, 1 hit, 0 runs.
The rest of the game was one-sided.
Marines’ two foreign pitchers, Lee Donghoon and Oh Kyungsoo, plus relievers, shared innings, conceding 2 runs over 9 innings.
On offense, Cha Jaehoon thrived, scoring 6 runs for a 6-2 win.
The practice game was over.
“Win the championship.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Park Chanhyuk cheered Siwoo one last time before returning to Daejeon.
Preparation was complete.
And…
“The Wolves won.”
The Marines’ opponent was decided.