MacPays Weak Pitcher, Choi Seungtaek Steps In

Choi Seungtaek stared at Oh Myeongwol with a face full of worry.

Oh Myeongwol had originally been scheduled for middle relief.

But after the Daejeon Magpies’ starting rotation grew alarmingly thin, Manager Han Geunseong had switched him to the starting role as early as the exhibition game.

So even though ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Myeongwol had spent spring camp building up his body as a middle reliever, he had suddenly been forced into the starter’s spot and his frame simply refused to keep up.

At first he had been placed in the fifth slot. Myeongwol had planned to take care of the required five innings to qualify as a starter.

The only reason he could even attempt it was because Russell and Damon were on the roster, plus FA acquisitions Song Geumho from Gwangju Pigeons and Ki Youngbae from the Daegu Eagles.

Yet every single one of them had collapsed. Myeongwol had somehow climbed all the way to the second starter, and now there was no choice but to push his body beyond five full innings.

“Senior, are you all right?”

“Uh… yeah. Oof. Why is my back acting up like this?”

“You’ve been overworking it. It should be fine if you rest a little.”

Oh Myeongwol tried to sound optimistic, but his expression was anything but reassuring.

Because Manager Han Geunseong had pulled the starters short to give Russell and Myeongwol a day off, their recovery time had been cut. The extra workload was already showing in his body.

*Damn… there were supposed to be solid starters I could count on besides Russell…*

One reliable starter went down, and another was gone.

“Namewol, just rest and come back.”

“Yes, sir.”

The 1st-team pitching coach spoke with obvious concern. Myeongwol headed to the locker room to recover.

“Oh geez… big trouble. He’s going to throw another wild pitch fest.”

“What do you mean?”

“Namewol’s condition is terrible. He’s really not good right now. If they pull him, the media will call it a fake starter or something.”

A fake starter was when a nominal pitcher was thrown out just to hide the real plan, then quickly pulled with a quick hook once the deception was complete.

A quick hook was the early substitution of a starter before he finished five innings.

The reason fake starters caused problems was twofold.

First, fans disliked seeing a starter’s name on the scoreboard but watching a different game. Second, it wasted the opposing manager’s time by forcing them to prepare strategies against a pitcher whose role was never meant to be permanent.

After this, only Manager Han Geunseong still used them, which was becoming a genuine problem.

“Well, our manager doesn’t really care about that kind of criticism, but… it pisses us ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠off when our guys get called out for it. Besides, the pitchers are already short on rest; they’re struggling enough as it is.”

Manager Han Geunseong didn’t care much about the criticism of fake starters. In fact, he still actively employed the tactic.

Of course, there were exceptions.

If the starter was someone who could reliably eat innings—like Russell or Myeongwol—Manager Han wouldn’t even bother with the quick hook.

“You think our manager would be giving these orders?”

The pitching coach asked Choi Seungtaek.

“Me? No. Some teams might see it as unethical, but I think it’s a valid way to manage the roster. When done right, it’s actually pretty efficient.”

“What? Ah! Right. You’re a sneaky bastard.”

“Huh…”

The pitching coach was a little taken aback by the answer, but he remembered a recent interview and figured it made sense.

Of course, Choi Seungtaek wasn’t actually shocked. He had said it completely seriously.

In the past, starters had done everything.

Then pitchers learned the modern standard: starters had to eat at least five innings, middle relievers four, and closers one.

That system was still completely normal when Seungtaek was playing for Incheon Cranes.

But then the concept of the opener emerged—the opposite of a closer. A starter who only ate the first one or two innings so the bullpen could come in and eat the rest.

Especially when the Rays, short on budget, gathered decent bullpen arms and began chipping away at games with this new style and achieved great results.

Teams with smaller budgets followed suit, and openers flooded the league.

Seungtaek understood all of it, so he believed a bullpen-heavy approach actually suited the Magpies just fine.

The real problem was that the Magpies didn’t even have a bullpen strong enough to make the idea work, and their roster was already too weak.

“Wrong. Our situation is what it is. How do we fix it? If we don’t have starters, we have to use the bullpen.”

“That’s right… there’s nothing we can do.”

The pitching coach still looked troubled.

He was already worried about losing the second starter for the rest of the season and having to report it to the manager.

“Then how about using rookie Shin Jeong-woo as the next starter?”

Since it was already announced, Seungtaek simply recommended Shin Jeong-woo, who was left-handed.

“Shin Jeong-woo?”

“Yeah. Senior probably won’t be able to throw much, but switching to lefty will make it less stressful for him, won’t it?”

“That makes sense. Plus, we can test him immediately in real game situations.”

The pitching coach agreed with the suggestion.

“Oh, then you warm up and get ready. I’ll go report to the manager.”

“Yes, sir!”

Seungtaek finished checking the pitchers and returned to the locker room. He drank the rest of his water and decided to rest a bit before the game.

* * *

“Fuck.”

Choi Seungtaek glared at the Magpies dugout with pure resentment.

Together with the battered Oh Myeongwol, he had somehow managed to hold the first inning.

He allowed two hits, but ground balls and a double play had saved the day.

Then, in the second inning, instead of Myeongwol, Manager Han had brought ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out Ki Youngbae.

Seungtaek didn’t understand the decision at all.

*Why again? When they’re already pulling starters short?*

Ki Youngbae had been the one scheduled to start the next game.

He was also the pitcher whose pitch count was visibly dropping every week.

Seungtaek stared at the strike zone.

*Fuck. It’s ruined.*

The opposing batter was number six, but the entire zone had turned bright red.

*Huff… at least one side is still bright.*

Seungtaek moved his glove to the brighter area.

[Outside fastball]

*Thud.*

The bat cracked with a satisfying sound and the ball was hit.

[Outside breaking slider]

*Crack.*

Seungtaek sent the ball to the best position he could, called for the defensive shift, but Ki Youngbae’s pitches were weak and his command was all over the place. Hits kept coming.

Hits kept coming even against the sixth and seventh batters. There was nothing Seungtaek could do.

“Damn… Ki Youngbae’s stuff has gotten even worse. He probably can’t even make it through one full inning.”

Choi Seungtaek watched Ki Youngbae with concern. The veteran pitcher’s face was set in a hard, tense line.

*His insides are probably burning hotter than mine right now. First, I need to calm down and think this through slowly.*

Seungtaek kept moving his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠glove to the most favorable locations without showing any sign of emotion.

* * *

Fortunately the game ended with the Magpies victorious.

Ki Youngbae had given up four runs in the second inning and the game was already in danger.

But when Lee Gun-taek and the energized infielders came back, they steadily scored two runs per inning starting in the fourth, and the Magpies pulled away for a 12-6 win.

After Ki Youngbae came Park Hyeok, Yoon Jeong-jin, and Kwon Gyu-jin, and the bullpen shut the door perfectly.

After the game ended, Choi Seungtaek went looking for a late-night meal.

He had considered the restaurant recommended by cheerleader Lee Naeun, but the game’s outcome had soured his mood, so he decided to eat high-quality meat at an upscale steakhouse and clear his head.

Recalling advice from past seniors, Seungtaek once again headed to a fancy Hanwoo specialist restaurant.

“Hello!”

“Oh! Hello.”

When Seungtaek walked in, the restaurant staff greeted him with genuine warmth, and he was surprised but quickly responded.

“Who are you? Is it someone we know?”

The manager, seeing the staff’s overly friendly attitude, asked the question.

“This is a Magpies player.”

“Ah! Did you come here to eat with the people inside?”

*Inside? Everyone’s doing extra training, so who would have come but me?*

“No? I just came alone.”

The staff looked startled at the answer when a familiar face suddenly appeared from across the room.

“Who is this? The Magpies catcher, Choi Seungtaek?”

“Hello!”

Seungtaek recognized him immediately and greeted him loudly.

“Hahaha. I watched today’s game. It was great.”

“No, thank you!”

“You don’t have to thank me! I was doing the commentary and you gave us a smooth win, so I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

The man standing in front of Seungtaek was the game commentator, Song Gol-mae.

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