Bonds or Ruth
For Wheeler, Korea had been the best option available.
Eating kimchi on a decent signing bonus beat choking down tear-soaked bread in the minors any day of the week. And in truth, Korea had turned out to be a pretty good place. The food was surprisingly excellent—he loved bulgogi—and the fans’ passion was something else. Even after he made it to the big leagues, he might still find himself looking back on those days fondly.
If only he had never met that devil.
Gong Ji-hoo.
After the nightmare that devil put him through in Game 2 of the Korean Series, Wheeler had wiped away tears in a thoroughly unmanly fashion.
…Damn it. I want to put a ball right in his ear.
The truth was, he didn’t want to take the mound at all. The moment he saw Gong Ji-hoo step into the box, the memories of that day would come flooding back. But—
I can’t do that.
Refusing to pitch would be running away. And a real man from Texas never ran.
That didn’t mean he could just throw another beanball, either. Wheeler understood better than anyone how important this game was—for himself, and for the Seoul Wolves.
In the end, it was simple. All he had to do was beat Gong Ji-hoo. Then the humiliation would become nothing more than a funny story, and the crumpled blueprint of his future would be ironed smooth again.
Thwack!!
“Ball.”
The first pitch was a miss. His heart had started hammering the second he looked at the guy standing in the box.
The devil tilted his head at the pitch, exchanged a few words with the catcher, then let out a little snicker.
The second pitch missed the zone as well. That one, at least, had been intentional.
…Should I just put him on base right now?
No. He was not going to run.
With that resolve locked in place, he threw the third pitch.
Tick.
“Foul!”
For a second he wondered if it was another one of the devil’s tricks. But the expression on the batter’s face said otherwise.
Is he just off today?
No matter how inhuman Gong Ji-hoo’s performances had been, this was still his first postseason. Which meant—
I’ve finally got him!
But then—
Tick.
“Foul!”
“Ah…”
Another foul, and that spinning little smile on the devil’s face. Wheeler’s mind went completely blank.
“Uh…”
Standing in the box waiting for the next pitch, I turned to Lee Mun-woo.
“Is he actually okay?”
Even from a distance, the pitcher on the mound did not look right.
“Time!!”
Lee Mun-woo saw it too and hurried out to the mound.
There’s no way a couple of fouls did that to him… He must just be off today.
A starting pitcher who dragged his aching body out there for the team’s sake. A real model for every ballplayer.
“Hoo…”
Lee Mun-woo came back to the plate with a long sigh.
“Hey. That wasn’t you, right?”
“What wasn’t?”
“I’m choosing to believe it wasn’t… or we’re going to end up with a corpse on our hands.”
Hmm…
So the guy’s mental game was weaker than I thought. In that case, digging even harder into the weakness was only proper courtesy to the enemy.
Tick.
Four-seamer nipping the outside corner. Cut.
Thwack!
“Ball.”
Changeup diving out of the zone. Let it go.
Three balls, two strikes. Full count.
I didn’t mindlessly cut everything the way I had last time. The battery was probably a little confused by now—whether I was cutting on purpose or just genuinely off.
A slider that kissed the outside edge of the zone with surgical precision.
Tick.
“Foul!”
“Tsk…”
Lee Mun-woo said nothing. He just quietly put down the next sign.
This time a two-seamer that drifted just off the plate. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have swung.
Tick.
“Foul!”
This was the first at-bat of the game. I had no intention of quietly taking a walk.
“Man, my timing’s off today.”
“Ji-hoo.”
“Yes?”
“You’re a terrible actor. Just shut up and stand there.”
“Hahaha… I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A four-seamer that clipped the bottom of the zone. A pitch that was practically begging to be hit.
Tick.
I didn’t like the location, so I cut it.
The cutting would continue until a pitch I actually wanted to drive showed up.
“Ha…”
Lee Mun-woo seemed to have figured out exactly what I was doing.
Ninth pitch, is it?
The Wolves battery actually had several options open to them.
One: throw something completely unhittable and walk me.
Two: just close their eyes and drill me.
Three: trust the stuff and challenge me.
The most likely choice was the third.
First inning, first batter. No matter how much the Wolves battery wanted to explode, they weren’t going to make an extreme call yet. A pitcher who still had full gas and hadn’t even thrown ten pitches yet would naturally want to go after the hitter.
Who knows? Maybe my timing really was shot.
—It’d be nice if they thought that.
Whoooosh!!
A pitch that painted the heart of the zone perfectly. One of Wheeler’s put-away pitches—the cutter.
And—
CRAAAAACK!!!
Korean Series, Game 2. The pitch Wheeler had given up a home run to me on back then had also been a cutter.
Whirrrrr.
I didn’t even need to watch the ball. I just flipped the bat and started walking. Jamsil might be huge, but this one was never coming down.
—Waaaaaah!!
Home run.
“Shit…”
The pitcher stood with his head bowed, glove covering his face. Looking at that posture—
I’m already looking forward to the next at-bat.
It was only one run. It had only been a ten-pitch battle.
I was still hungry.
“At this rate… am I going to starve to death out here?”
During cleaning time I sat on the bench and let the complaint spill out.
“…You’re vicious, you know that?”
Lee Dae-beom said it as he handed me an electrolyte drink.
Gulp.
“Still, at least we’re winning.”
After five innings the score stood at:
Seoul Wolves 0 : 3 Suwon Wizards.
The Wizards were out in front. After my leadoff homer, the guys behind me had managed to push across two more. Those three runs were still the only ones on the board for either side.
“…I get that they want to avoid the top of the order, but still.”
Lee Se-ho’s injury was really starting to hurt. Before he was a third baseman, he had been our cleanup hitter.
I leaned back against the bench with a sour look on my face. Because—
“Two intentional walks in a row? Seriously?”
I hadn’t taken a single swing since that first at-bat.
“That’s what you get for tormenting the guy so hard. Honestly, if I were the pitcher I would’ve just closed my eyes and gone for the headshot.”
Of course Lee Dae-beom would say that.
“No sportsmanship.”
“I was just saying!”
“Tch.”
If there had been runners on in front of me it might have been different. But in today’s game, outside of ninth-place hitter An Sung-woo, the entire bottom of the order had failed to reach base even once.
“At this rate they’re going to intentionally walk me with the bases loaded.”
“No way.”
I wasn’t Bonds.
“Actually… if the opposing pitcher is that guy, maybe he would?”
“That’s… a shame.”
Wolves starter Wheeler had given up three runs in the first and still managed to grind through five innings, doing his job. We probably wouldn’t see him again in the sixth. Still—
“A three-run lead feels a little thin.”
Gong Ji-hoo’s worry did not turn out to be unfounded.
The sixth inning passed without incident, and Suwon Wizards fans allowed themselves a brief moment of relaxation.
Then, in the bottom of the seventh, disaster struck.
Crack!
Joo Young-hoon, who had come in a full inning early for the seventh, immediately allowed a leadoff single. And it got worse.
“Ball.”
A walk to the second hitter, and then—
CRAAACK!
An RBI single from the three-hole, and just like that Joo Young-hoon had given up a run and was starting to come apart.
Fortunately—
Pop!
“Out!”
Just as commentator Kim Jung-up warned that it was far too early to relax—
“Ball.”
Another walk, and suddenly the bases were loaded. Even so, Joo Young-hoon refused to fold easily.
Thwack!!
“Strike three!”
One more out and the crisis would be over. The Wolves, however, had no intention of going quietly.
And then—
The Suwon Wizards had just burned their last bridge.
Gulp.
Manager Kim Tae-sik swallowed hard against the tension.
This is the best move I can make right now.
Still, he had to think about the next inning as well. There were still two frames left before this game was over.
“…You said you could throw, right?”
“Yes, sir. I’m ready whenever you need me.”
Suwon Wizards closer Kim Mu-shin. With his signature velocity and fearless personality, he was the rock who locked down the back end of the Wizards’ bullpen. But—
Thwack!!
“Ball.”
Maybe the incomplete warm-up was the problem.
The words had barely left the booth when—
CRAAAAACK!!
The runners were already flying the instant the bat met the ball.
Whoooosh!!
Thwack!!
“Out!!”
Having just snuffed out the Suwon Wizards’ biggest crisis of the night, Gong Ji-hoo raised a thumb and jogged back toward the dugout with a smile on his face.
Honestly?
That defensive play in the bottom of the seventh had been pretty damn cool. Cool enough that they could play the highlight at my funeral someday and nobody would complain.
Still—
A tie is still a tie…
We had to score somehow.
“Hoo…”
An Sung-woo stood on first. One out.
“You’re not seriously walking me here too, right?”
“…”
Backup catchers all seemed to share one unexpected trait: most of them barely talked.
Is it because they don’t have the luxury of chatting?
If they intentionally walked me the way they had earlier, it would be first and second with one out. Park Ji-han would be at the plate with An Sung-woo in scoring position. With the game almost over, that was a situation they desperately wanted to avoid.
Then again—
Facing me is probably just as stressful for them.
Fine. I would narrow their options for them.
I stepped into the box, raised the bat, and—
Point.
I pointed straight out toward the distant outfield.
Lee Dae-beom had brought up Bonds earlier, hadn’t he? That guy was a juiced-up cheater.
If you’re going to copy someone, at least copy the real deal.
…You absolute bastard.
That was what I thought to myself.
If they still walked me after this, then all bets were off.