Chapter 70
Chapter 70
Only one game of a possible seven had ended.
Yet the Marines’ fans celebrated as if they had already won the championship.
Everyone who bet on the Wolves is totally screwed lol
In the KBO, the team that wins the regular season has roughly an 80% chance of winning the Korean Series.
That made the Marines favored, but experts still predicted the odds around 70-30.
“The biggest weakness of the Marines is their over-reliance on Park Siwoo. The other players aren’t as strong compared to the Wolves. Winning the remaining two games without Park Siwoo could be harder than expected.”
“Even if Conner Gray falls short of Park Siwoo, he’s still the next-best pitcher. For the Marines’ lineup, which is inexperienced in the Korean Series, hitting Conner Gray won’t be easy.”
There was precedent for this.
When Park Siwoo had recorded his first perfect game, the Marines’ lineup struggled against Conner Gray, managing to score only in the 10th inning.
If that situation repeated, analysts thought the more experienced Wolves would have the advantage.
But that prediction was completely wrong.
Led by Cha Jaehun and Ha Seojin, the Marines broke through Conner Gray, and Park Siwoo did what Park Siwoo does.
Most importantly, they didn’t commit a single error.
Come to think of it, we’ve been through plenty of big games too lol
A no-hit no-run and a perfect game aren’t considered big games?
Damn, Park Siwoo has really gone this far
Honestly, if I were a fielder, a perfect game would be even more nerve-wracking
Anyway, defying experts’ predictions, the Marines claimed victory in Game 1.
The team that wins the first game has a 75% chance of taking the series.
Cool cool, let’s just win the next two in Gwangju
If we win one game without Park Siwoo, that’s already three wins
Wow, seeing it this way, the Wolves must be furious lol
The Wolves were essentially playing the series knowing they’d lose the two games with Park Siwoo pitching.
And momentum was on the Marines’ side.
The hitters were confident from having taken down Conner Gray, and the closer squad was ready at full strength.
The value of a pitcher like Park Siwoo was immense.
But Game 2 at Sajik Stadium went a little differently than the Marines’ fans had hoped.
Thwack!
“…Phew. Sorry.”
Gale Davis, the Marines’ second starter, couldn’t finish the 5th inning and was taken off the mound.
4.2 innings, 4 runs.
Gale Davis had clear strengths and weaknesses.
His OPS against left-handed hitters was 0.491, but against right-handed hitters, it soared to 0.779.
Facing a team that had already dealt with Park Siwoo minimized this disadvantage, essentially giving him a kind of advantage.
So far, the Marines’ plan had worked as intended.
But Game 2 was different.
Wolves’ manager Lee Jeonghwan rested his starters the previous day to manage their condition and the aftereffects of facing Park Siwoo.
He also fielded a right-handed-heavy lineup to face Gale Davis.
That gamble paid off, giving them control of the game.
And by bringing in the full bullpen without holding anything back, they secured the win.
“Now it’s tied. Let’s go to Gwangju and settle it.”
Let’s just win 2 games in Gwangju
It was disappointing, but it was still 1-1.
Players and fans comforted each other as they headed to the away stadium.
But the home Wolves in Gwangju were strong.
Even when they upset the Phoenix last season, they did it with two home wins to turn the momentum.
That momentum carried into Game 3.
The Marines sent out Danny Jones, the Wolves their third starter.
A matchup between a domestic and a foreign starter.
Most predicted a Marines win.
Danny Jones pitched 7 innings, allowing 2 runs.
The Wolves’ starter fell apart in 4.1 innings, giving up 3 runs. It seemed like the victory would go to the Marines.
Hit! Lucas Ramirez’s ball! That ends this intense game!
In the bottom of the 9th, Lucas Ramirez hit a walk-off three-run homer.
The Marines’ players were stunned and remained frozen in place for a while.
The Wolves’ players, on the other hand, reaffirmed that Manager Lee Jeonghwan’s choices had been right, and they rallied together.
Now all eyes and expectations of the fans focused on one player.
The Marines’ eternal third starter, the pride of the team.
“Nice weather, huh.”
He said this to Lee Donghoon.
Before the Korean Series began, Lee Donghoon had a dream.
He dreamed of pitching in the 4th game, finishing it, and claiming the championship.
After Park Siwoo’s perfect game in Game 1, he thought maybe it was possible.
‘What a ridiculous dream.’
The only thing that was somewhat similar between dream and reality was the weight of the game—it felt even heavier in reality.
1-2.
If the series wasn’t evened here, even with Park Siwoo pitching tomorrow, winning would be difficult.
Conversely, if they won today, it meant Park Siwoo would pitch next.
The Wolves would surely fight tooth and nail to win.
“Ugh, this isn’t easy.”
Lee Donghoon got out of bed, dragging his stiff body.
He knew his own condition better than anyone.
Maybe it was because he was used to resting at this time, or maybe because of age, but his body wasn’t in shape.
‘…Would it be better if Gyeongsu pitched instead of me?’
He slapped his own face.
‘Idiot. Focus.’
He had finally grabbed the opportunity to win the championship, and here he was, barely fit.
Staying in bed would only make things worse, so he went outside.
“…Did you sleep well? Wait, I don’t need an answer, I can tell.”
In the dining area, Kim Mingi sat down with a tsk, noticing Lee Donghoon.
“Try to get some proper rest.”
“Your face isn’t much better.”
It wasn’t just him.
The aftereffects of yesterday’s walk-off were still lingering.
The Marines’ lack of big-game experience was holding them back.
To win, they couldn’t dwell on regret.
They had to forget the past and move forward.
Most Marines hadn’t experienced this, and they were stuck thinking about yesterday.
No one could teach them this—they had to realize it themselves.
And the player who could buy them that time was Lee Donghoon.
But even he was in a similar state.
After a modest meal, he stood up, planning to take a walk to clear his mind before heading to the stadium.
“Senpai? Where are you going?”
In the hotel lobby, he ran into Park Siwoo just returning.
“Just going for a walk. Where have you been?”
“Had some things to think about for tomorrow’s game.”
Yet his expression seemed fine.
“Siwoo, are you okay?”
“About what?”
“Just… everything.”
Lee Donghoon wondered who bore the heaviest burden on the team.
Was it him, pitching today? The manager, under public scrutiny? Or Park Jungwon, who had taken that walk-off homer yesterday?
None of them.
It was Park Siwoo.
He had never lost a single game.
The expectations from the team and fans were enormous.
But if he lost tomorrow?
People would pounce, and the backlash would be far greater than any regular-season loss.
Park Siwoo must have known that.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“Really? Got it. Go get some rest.”
Lee Donghoon was about to let him go when Park Siwoo stopped and called him over.
“Senpai, can I walk with you?”
“Why do you need permission for that?”
Soon, they walked around the hotel together.
“Ah, sorry. Since you’re starting today…”
Fans they occasionally met were waved off by Park Siwoo taking the lead.
Those who knew would cheer from a distance.
“Go Donghoon!”
“Win today for sure!”
‘Did I even need to come out?’
The cheering felt heavier than usual.
Yet Park Siwoo looked calm.
Seeing that, Lee Donghoon muttered without realizing it.
“You’re really amazing.”
“Excuse me? For what?”
“…Just… in many ways.”
The gap in experience between Park Siwoo and Lee Donghoon was over ten years.
Even if they were close, a veteran’s pride kept Donghoon from speaking freely.
‘But does that even matter?’
It’s the Korean Series, after all.
If it helps, asking and listening couldn’t hurt.
While Lee Donghoon was pondering, Park Siwoo spoke first.
“Senpai, remember when you talked about a wish for your 400th pitching appearance?”
“…That?”
Park Siwoo referred to the time he said he’d make Donghoon’s wish come true on video.
And that wish…
“I was mistaken back then. I thought your wish was to pitch in the Korean Series, not to win it.”
“…What? Don’t tell me that now.”
“Sorry. But what you said back then left such an impression.”
“What did I say?”
“I wanted to pitch in the Korean Series at least once. I had that as my wish at one point.”
“…Really?”
“But I realized I was wrong.”
“Wrong?”
Park Siwoo nodded.
“That was my wish when I was with Phoenix. Once I came to the Marines, it meant nothing anymore.”
“…Why do you have to say it like that?”
“No, you’ll understand once you’re on the mound yourself.”
With confidence in his voice, Park Siwoo made Lee Donghoon smile.
“So, what are you trying to say?”
“Win today.”
“…You really don’t back down, huh?”
“Sorry, I’m not good with words.”
Who tells the starting pitcher this before a game?
If it weren’t Donghoon and Park Siwoo, it could have caused a serious issue.
“Just focus on that, and I’ll handle the rest.”
Whatever Park Siwoo was thinking, he sounded confident.
And he had every right to be.
“…Alright. I’ll do it. I’ll try.”
“Thank you.”
“Just do well. Don’t go around saying stuff like this again. Geez, my heart almost stopped.”
Lee Donghoon laughed while speaking.
“Want me to play that game for you?”
“No. I’ll go first.”
After some time, Lee Donghoon awaited his pitching appearance.
‘Just think about winning today…’
That was the only thing on his mind.
He usually overthought, but the weight of the Korean Series kept him grounded.
‘This is probably my last chance anyway.’
As the fourth starter, pitching today meant he wouldn’t pitch again until Game 7.
Even then, the odds of pitching again weren’t high.
“Ready?”
“Yes. You?”
“As usual.”
“Shouldn’t it be different?”
“Ah, just take it easy.”
He warmed up in the bullpen with Kim Mingi, waiting for their turn.
The Marines’ top of the 1st inning ended scoreless.
It was now Lee Donghoon’s turn.
“Senpai.”
“Yes.”
He smiled at a visibly tense Kim Mingi.
“Just think about winning today.”
“…Alright. That works.”
Once he gripped the ball on the mound, Lee Donghoon understood why Park Siwoo had said that.
‘It’s meaningless.’
The Korean Series mound, which he had longed for, wasn’t about shouting “champion” or celebrating.
Realizing that, he threw the first pitch.
All-out.
If today’s pitching by Lee Donghoon could be summed up in one word, it was all-out.
The ball didn’t have overwhelming power, but he poured everything he had into each pitch.
The result: 5 innings, 70 pitches, 1 run.
Having given everything, he voluntarily left the mound.
“How was it?”
“No words needed.”
“Really?”
He smiled as if satisfied.
“Aren’t you disappointed?”
“Of course.”
Yet his expression showed no trace of regret.
“But there’s always next year.”
“Next year?”
“Yeah. You’ll get us to the Korean Series again.”
That caught him slightly off guard.
“Senpai?”
“Nothing. Saying that today, that’s enough.”
“Understood.”
The mound after Lee Donghoon’s all-out pitching was taken over by Oh Kyungsu.
Two innings, 1 run.
Score: 4-2.
Still not safe.
In the 8th, Park Hyunwoo came in.
One inning, clean.
He slipped between us and the game.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah, just… feeling good about doing well.”
His shameless attitude made Lee Donghoon laugh it off.
Now, the bottom of the 9th.
Thwack!
“Out!”
Park Jungwon struck out Lucas Ramirez, the leadoff hitter.
At the moment Park Jungwon overcame yesterday’s nightmare, the result of the game was set.
Thwack!
“Out!”
“Nice!”
2-2, series tied.
Back to square one.
“I kept my promise.”
“What promise?”
“There’s a thing. You know it, deny it.”
Tomorrow is my pitching day.
Ideally, winning two days in a row would be best.
“Wow, even the manager is amazing.”
The Wolves had made their final gamble.
“Not Conner? That’s ruthless.”
Tomorrow, my opponent isn’t Conner Gray—it’s the Wolves’ fifth starter.