A Day of Records
The second game between the Daegu Rhinos and the Changwon Gamers was the kind of contest that sent a thrill through everyone watching — the fans packed into the stadium, the viewers glued to their TVs, and even the casters and commentators calling the game.
Of course, for the pitchers on the mound, it was an absolute nightmare.
Gong Ji-hoo of the Daegu Rhinos and Jose of the Changwon Gamers. Two players putting on a home run show.
Their back-and-forth, tit-for-tat consecutive home runs were pure joy for anyone watching. Home runs, after all, are the flower of baseball.
Bottom of the fifth. Gong Ji-hoo's third plate appearance.
Casters and commentators are supposed to stay neutral. But they were human, too — and no human alive can resist a perfect popcorn moment when it lands in their lap.
As if answering caster Lee Han-young's voice, thick with anticipation—
CRAAAAACK!!!
Gong Ji-hoo's lightning swing sent the ball soaring over the wall and far beyond.
Gong Ji-hoo rounded the bases, touched home plate, and returned to the dugout — then stepped back out onto the field and bowed his head.
—WAAAAAAAH!!!
Fans who had filled the stands even on a weekday, just to witness the historic opening ten-game win streak with their own eyes, sent a roar rolling through the entire ballpark.
In more than forty years of KBO history, the previous record for consecutive at-bat home runs had stood at four. Only four players had ever done it: a Stars catcher whose number was retired, a foreign slugger from the Rhinos dynasty years, a foreign hitter from the Powderz's dark ages, and Kim Jae-sang, the starting catcher of the Swallows.
Now Gong Ji-hoo's five-straight had reduced them all to ordinary men.
And that wasn't even the end of it.
Ten home runs in ten games. The old mark of twelve games, unbroken for more than twenty years since 2004, had been obliterated.
"That counts as a record too?"
Gong Ji-hoo said it casually enough. But baseball has always been a sport of records.
One of the things record-breaking players always say is:
"I had no idea."
I used to snort whenever I heard that.
No idea? Come on. They were sweating it the whole time.
Right? It's a moment that lives in league history. How could the guy who did it not know?
The old me who thought that died today. Because—
"I genuinely had no idea!"
I had just been clearing the wall every at-bat thinking things like Man, the bat feels good today or He hits one, I hit one.
"That's probably why you hit them even better. Zero expectations. Haha."
Song Han-su said it with a bright, sunny smile. The weight off his shoulders had apparently unlocked his mouth, too — he kept casually leaking bits of our counseling sessions.
Psychological counseling is supposed to be confidential, you know…
Still, a man nearly forty wearing a smile that pure so well — he really was something special.
Even so.
"I don't think it was the lack of expectations so much as…"
Simply put.
"I just don't think five consecutive home runs is that big a deal…"
I meant it. Five at-bats in a row, five home runs — sure, that's nice. But it was a record built over just two games.
Not a single-season home run crown. Not a career total. Nothing on that scale.
And then—
"Fewest games to double-digit home runs? Honestly, if you're hot, anyone could take a shot at—"
I felt the atmosphere shift and shut my mouth. The eyes of the players sitting on the bench had gone terrifying.
"You fraudulent bastard."
Kang Ho-san.
"The worst part is he means it. He's not even flexing. Just making the rest of us feel worthless."
Jang Tae-wook.
"…Yeah, even I can't cover for you on this one, Ji-hoo."
Song Han-su.
To escape the glares and the open-mouthed disbelief, I stood up from the bench.
Today's note: the mouth is the root of all evil…
That was when a big hand clapped my shoulder with a hearty laugh.
"That's my Gong Ji-hoo! That kind of swagger is exactly what you need!"
Manager Dong Sang-guk.
I appreciated it, but—
What exactly is "my" style supposed to be…
The kind of encouragement that could reawaken a middle-school-delusion complex I never even had.
The scoreboard had read:
Daegu Rhinos 4 : 5 Changwon Gamers
For it to become:
Daegu Rhinos 5 : 5 Changwon Gamers
—the lineup had to turn over once. In other words, the tying hit didn't come until my fourth at-bat.
Runner on second. I got under a mistake from the new pitcher, and the ball—
CRAAACK!!
—didn't clear the wall. It settled for a double.
A game-tying RBI hit, and yet the stadium filled with disappointed sighs.
—Awww…
"Tsk… even after hitting it, it feels unfinished."
Crack!
The broadcast crew was wrong. Or more precisely, only half wrong.
THWACK!!
Even on warm-up pitches, the ball was enough to make the waiting opposing batters go pale.
THWACK!!
Oh Jin-muk had taken the mound in the eighth — with the score still tied.
"Man… every time I watch him, I wonder how I ever managed to hit that."
Gong Ji-hoo kept murmuring in awe as he watched the warm-ups.
"…"
Oh Jin-muk, mid-throw, glanced toward third base. Their eyes met, and a startled Gong Ji-hoo—
—bowed his head.
"Sorry for distracting you while you were focusing."
He offered a polite apology.
"…"
Oh Jin-muk nodded in reply, and Gong Ji-hoo let out a quiet sigh of relief.
I was about to say you hit it ridiculously well…
I was about to tell him he hit it ridiculously well.
The only people who knew what Oh Jin-muk actually thought were Oh Jin-muk himself and his battery mate, Kang Ho-san.
Of course—
This is too fun. I'm not saying a word!
—Kang Ho-san had no intention of telling him.
THWACK!!
"Strike!!"
Maybe—
THWACK!!
"Strike!!"
—baseball really is—
THWACK!!
"Swing, strike three!!"
—that easy.
Pitching so dominant it almost made you think so. Oh Jin-muk annihilated the top of the eighth in the blink of an eye.
Nine pitches. Three strikeouts.
Is that what they call an immaculate inning?
In a sport obsessed with records, anything that looks special becomes one. So yes — this inning was a record too.
"Nobody seems particularly excited about it, though?"
Kang Ho-san's expression stayed completely calm at my question.
"The guy who threw the immaculate inning is Jin-muk. You think this is the first or second time we've seen it?"
"Ah…"
Still, one of the batters he'd faced was Jose, who had been on an absolute tear today.
"So what? Our pitcher is Oh Jin-muk."
"Fair enough."
People really do need to stay humble.
I can call myself a record-breaker all I want, but…
The king of the Rhinos is Oh Jin-muk.
Some people say it's overrating him — that he's "just a bullpen pitcher." But think about it. Even as "just a bullpen pitcher," Rhinos fans take real pride in the name Oh Jin-muk.
Honestly.
That senior is just built different.
A player who makes a team great. A player who makes a team feel proud.
Oh Jin-muk was one of the players closest to what I wanted to become. Which is why he was also one of the teammates I most wanted to get close to.
Not sure if that's possible, though.
I was close with his little sister, but…
Just as the top of the eighth had vanished in a flash, the Rhinos' half of the eighth disappeared just as fast — like roasting beans over a lightning bolt.
"Strike three!"
The six-hole: strikeout.
Tick.
"Out!"
The seven-hole: groundout.
"Strike three!"
The eight-hole: another strikeout.
It couldn't match Oh Jin-muk's immaculate inning, but the Gamers' high-leverage arm had retired the side in order cleanly.
Buoyed by that, the Gamers' hitters gave everything they had in the top of the ninth to scratch across an insurance run.
"Out!"
But of course—
"Out!"
—the wall named Oh Jin-muk—
"Out!"
—was simply too high.
The bottom of the ninth arrived in an instant. Score still 5–5.
Facing the final regulation inning, the Rhinos players had already wiped a certain word from their minds.
"Don't even think about extra innings!"
Because—
"Jin-muk came in from the eighth!"
Their closer had climbed the mound two innings early and chewed through the other team.
"And that Gong bastard over there is in peak form today!"
Gong Ji-hoo, locked into the bottom of the ninth, was at the absolute top of his game.
"What do you mean, 'Gong bastard.' Who are you calling a Gong bastard."
And so the bottom of the ninth began.
Thud.
A hit-by-pitch on the very first pitch. The nine-hole batter didn't even get angry — just grinned as he took first base. Honestly—
Lucky break.
—he'd figured a hit or a walk was beyond his own skill set today.
Next up: leadoff man Jang Tae-wook. He settled into his stance—
Tick!
—and laid down a bunt on the first pitch. The ball dropped in the perfect spot, enough to move the runner to second.
"Out!"
Even as he was retired at first, a smile spread across Jang Tae-wook's face. Mission accomplished.
The pitcher on the mound swallowed hard. The next batter, Gong Ji-hoo, felt like an unstoppable disaster. And that assessment—
"Gong Ji-hoo — first base!"
—was shared by the Gamers' dugout. They elected to intentionally walk him and put him on first.
There was just one thing they had overlooked.
"SHIT…"
Gong Ji-hoo was not the only terrifying hitter on the Rhinos.
CRAAAAACK!!
Garcia, the free-spirited foreign slugger, swung like a man taking out his frustration — and the ball he produced slammed off the wall and—
"WOOOO!!!"
—ended the game right there.
An opening ten-game win streak no team had achieved since 2003. In 2025, the team that claimed that historic mark was, once again, the Daegu Rhinos.
Opening ten-game win streak. Five consecutive at-bat home runs. Fastest double-digit home runs. An immaculate inning. A walk-off hit.
After a Gamers Game 2 overflowing with records and plays worth gasping over, the Rhinos had locked down first place with ten wins — and among the Rhinos fans watching them, an incurable chronic condition began to surface once more.