Chapter 69
Chapter 69
At the start of the season, Park Si-woo wasn’t exactly a pitcher you’d associate with changing speeds.
The only pitches he could throw were a knuckleball and a hard knuckleball.
He couldn’t control speed differences, and at the time, he didn’t need to.
But now, with his velocity back and the ability to throw a four-seam fastball, things had changed.
“Think of a 100-mile fastball as a breaking ball,” he said.
“A breaking ball?”
“Yes. With my current condition, I could throw full power for all nine innings. But I don’t need to throw that pitch to every batter.”
Oliver noticed how the KBO was a strange mix of top-tier players and those at the very bottom. The Marines were no exception.
In a league like this, there was no need to stick to 160 km/h. Thanks to the knuckleball, even a 150 km/h fastball was enough, while the near-160 km/h fastball could be used like a breaking ball to surprise hitters or at crucial moments.
It was a form of speed variation, with clear pros and cons.
The advantage was that, like the knuckleball, it didn’t require maximum effort.
The downside was that on days when the knuckleball wasn’t working, he might struggle a little.
Because of that, teams facing Park Si-woo often made one critical misjudgment:
‘He can’t throw many fastballs.’
But that was only in the regular season.
In the postseason, especially in the Korean Series, the stakes were completely different.
Whoosh!
“Strikeout!”
There was no need for careful speed management anymore.
Lucas Ramirez shook his head and walked back to the dugout, having faced just four pitches: fastball, fastball, fastball, fastball.
He struck out the league’s best fastball hitter using nothing but fastballs.
“Si-woo’s on fire today,”
Even the Marines players watching could feel how aggressive and dominant his pitching was.
If the knuckleball was a pitch hitters couldn’t touch, the fastball shredded their confidence.
Every time a batter stepped into the box, Park Si-woo asked:
Whoosh!
“Strike!”
Could anyone even hit that pitch?
Number five, Oh Hyun-min, swallowed hard and waited for the next pitch.
“Strike!”
‘Damn. Hit something already.’
Even a confident batter capable of 20+ home runs a season couldn’t easily handle this fastball.
And when their minds were filled with fastballs,
“Strikeout!”
The ball dropped suddenly right in front of their eyes. Right-handed batters saw a splitter, left-handers a slider.
There was a correct answer, but they couldn’t find it.
Park Si-woo’s pitches were like that.
Slowly, the Wolves batters began to question themselves:
‘We can at least get one run, right?’
They hadn’t given up, constantly challenging Park Si-woo throughout the regular season under Director Lee Jung-hwan’s guidance. To defeat the Marines, to win the championship, they had to beat Park Si-woo.
Even a single victory during the season would have been a big psychological boost for the postseason.
But the cost was brutal: complete games, 14 consecutive strikeouts, a perfect game.
Those memories haunted the Wolves hitters now. Could they really beat Park Si-woo?
Naturally, the Wolves hitters kept glancing toward Director Lee Jung-hwan for guidance.
And every time, Lee had always provided the answer.
But this time, he realized,
‘…I was wrong.’
He admitted failure.
During the regular season, he shouldn’t have faced Park Si-woo directly. He should have avoided him, like other teams did.
Even today, he should have sent out the fourth starter and left Connor Gray for tomorrow.
‘Too late to regret now.’
The only thing left was hope.
Director Lee, who never imagined thinking like this, let out a short, bitter laugh. He had always believed there was a way and had proven it, earning the nickname “championship closer.”
But Park Si-woo had no weaknesses. Today, all Lee could do was hope for a little luck for the Wolves.
“Strikeout!”
Yet for Director Lee, who had never relied on luck in his life, it was unclear if the heavens would shine down on him.
“You’re doing great. Stay calm. Good!”
Lee Dong-hoon encouraged players coming back from the field at the front of the dugout.
‘And I’m feeling this nervous too.’
Scheduled as the fourth starter, Dong-hoon was experiencing the pressure of the Korean Series for the first time, constantly drinking water.
‘I need to focus too.’
As a veteran, Dong-hoon had postseason experience, but the Korean Series’ tension spared no one, rookie or veteran.
Even with the score at 0-1, leading but barely, any tie or reversal was possible.
Seeing Park Si-woo on the mound, Dong-hoon felt the tension melt away.
‘Ha. Seriously.’
He wasn’t the only one. Players on the field, the coaching staff, fans filling Sajik Stadium, even the opposing team—all eyes were on Park Si-woo.
No one could fathom the weight he carried.
But Park Si-woo held it all, standing firm on the mound.
Dong-hoon let out a low sigh.
He couldn’t just stand and watch. In four days, he would start and face the Wolves’ sharp hitters. He had to think about how to handle them.
He wanted to find Kim Min-ki to discuss, but Kim Min-ki had already approached him.
“…Intimidating, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it really is.”
The two veterans exchanged slight smiles and prepared for the next sequence away from Park Si-woo.
The batters were in a similar situation. Despite Chae Jae-hoon’s homer scoring the first run, they were locked down by Connor Gray.
They didn’t need many runs. Just one point, enough to relieve some pressure from Park Si-woo.
This inning presented that chance.
In the bottom of the fifth, after Chae Jae-hoon went 2-for-2 against Connor Gray, the opportunity returned.
Lead-off hitter: eighth batter Song Min-seok.
‘No way I let him on base.’
If Song Min-seok reached, Chae Jae-hoon and Ha Seo-jin would follow.
The Wolves’ catcher swallowed nervously, intent on stopping him.
‘Still, this one’s kind of easy.’
Song Min-seok, young and facing the Korean Series for the first time, had naturally been tense.
But he surprised himself.
‘Finally, I can breathe.’
He was tense wearing the catcher’s mask, balancing the responsibility to catch Park Si-woo’s pitches and call the optimal sequence. Yet, at the plate, there was no pressure.
‘The ball’s really good.’
Compared to Park Si-woo, Connor Gray’s pitches were inferior; Song Min-seok had nothing to worry about.
So he waited calmly.
Crack!
On the first pitch, he swung decisively, not hesitating. The shortstop tracked it and threw, but Song Min-seok reached first safely.
“Nice swing. Expect a bunt next, be ready.”
“Yes.”
The first-base coach’s praise left Song Min-seok dumbfounded.
Was it the pitch? Or just confidence?
He refocused.
Next up, Yoo Jung-woo laid down a successful sacrifice bunt: one out, runner on second.
Hwang Seo-jun struck out, leaving two outs.
Now Chae Jae-hoon stepped up.
The Wolves’ dugout became tense. One out, and the inning ends. One hit, and another run scores.
But Chae Jae-hoon was on fire.
They couldn’t skip him because Ha Seo-jin was on deck.
Even if he went 0-for-2 today, Ha Seo-jin was next. Every choice carried potential praise or blame.
“Ball!”
The Wolves chose Ha Seo-jin. They tried to bait him, throwing near the edge, but Chae Jae-hoon didn’t react.
His condition was excellent, a nightmare for the Wolves.
‘This is the worst.’
In a short series, a single hot batter can dominate. Chae Jae-hoon wasn’t proven yet, but his form was clear.
He walked on a base on balls, runners at first and second with two outs.
Director Lee came to the mound with a translator.
Meanwhile, Ha Seo-jin prepared at the plate with his hitting coach.
They had waited for this moment countless times in their minds.
But Ha Seo-jin remained calm.
“Ball!”
The Wolves were under pressure. If they couldn’t score now, trust Park Si-woo.
A one-run difference felt close, but with Park Si-woo, it was enough.
If they scored one more, the Wolves were finished.
“Ball!”
“Ball!”
Ha Seo-jin resisted every off-speed pitch, waiting patiently.
Full count: 3-0.
Crack!
He connected with the fastball, stepped on home plate, and pointed at the Marines logo on his uniform.
“Awesome. I just watched.”
“Thanks to you and Si-woo, actually.”
Chae Jae-hoon blushed, embarrassed but happy, heading back to the dugout with a grin.
Ha Seo-jin meant it. Thanks to Chae Jae-hoon, he had his chance and trusted Park Si-woo, swinging on a 3-ball count.
Had the outcome been different, he might have been scolded for greed.
‘I don’t want regrets without trying.’
If he’d tried harder, held the team together, maybe it would have been different.
But he had trust. Even if this chance was lost, he believed Park Si-woo would handle it without shaking.
Ha Seo-jin and the team congratulated each other, ending with a handshake with Park Si-woo.
“Thank you.”
“I should be the one thanking you.”
With Ha Seo-jin’s 3-run homer, the lead extended to four.
The Wolves still had four chances, but…
‘…Ha.’
When cleanup ended and Park Si-woo returned to the mound, the atmosphere turned tense.
He wasn’t satisfied.
‘I can do more.’
He needed to completely dominate, leaving an impact for the next game.
In the top of the sixth, Park Si-woo retired three more batters in order.
Director Lee substituted hitters en masse.
Korean Series, Game 1: four-run lead.
It was too early to give up, but Lee sacrificed today for tomorrow.
‘Four runs is huge.’
Scoring four against Park Si-woo? Impossible.
Exposing starters to his pitching could even ruin their timing for the next game.
For most pitchers, losing today could fire up hitters. But not Park Si-woo.
From 110 km/h knuckleballs to 160 km/h fastballs, hitters bent before he even broke a sweat.
Any batter facing Park Si-woo would be off their game the next day against Gale—well-known fact.
“I’ll take responsibility. Prepare for tomorrow.”
Just one sentence changed the Wolves’ dugout.
‘…Unbelievable.’
Park Si-woo glanced at the Wolves’ dugout, briefly disappointed at the substitutions.
He had hoped to use knuckleballs from the seventh to ruin their rhythm, but plans failed.
He shook off the thought.
‘I’ll do what I can.’
Just as the players trusted Park Si-woo, he trusted them.
“Strike!”
Park Si-woo trusted his teammates.
The grand Korean Series Game 1.
“Strikeout!”
A perfect victory for the Marines.
Gwangju Wolves 0 : 9 Busan Marines
Marines’ first Korean Series of the 21st century, and the star is Park Si-woo!
Park Si-woo, KBO’s first perfect game in the Korean Series!
Nervous? That’s Park Si-woo for you.
Song Min-seok with three watches lol. At this rate, Si-woo’s entire salary could go just to watches.
Checking Song Min-seok’s SNS, some watches are over 2,000.
If you’re worried about that, buy a Korean Series perfect game commemorative uniform instead lol.
Park Si-woo writing history every game, perfect games are expected now
Did anyone else feel it? Si-woo was seriously prepared.
Saw 160 km/h in the 8th and just gave up.
I gave up from the first inning lol.
White flag surrender in the Korean Series? Fans didn’t want this!
But I think Lee Jung-hwan made the right choice.
Even if starters came out, could you stop the perfect game? F*ck, Si-woo’s insane.
Seriously, this is unreal.
MLB scout at the stadium: “Every team is watching when Park Si-woo might come to the US.”
Please, please, please, please…
He’s crazy even by KBO standards.
Quick, pass a special law to send him overseas.
Marines only won for one year, what MLB?
We have some conscience, let him win five years and then send him lol.
Damn, this feels too real, kinda scary.