Chapter 63, A Reckless Exposure
The score remained 1-0 through the third inning.
We were holding a comfortable lead.
Why did this one-run lead not feel unstable?
The answer was simple.
The players trusted me.
For some reason, our dugout was especially peaceful whenever I started.
“Just make sure we play good defense!”
Kim Hak-seong walked around encouraging the players.
Did he already think we had won?
Of course, even I was not thinking, It’s only a one-run lead, this is dangerous.
Why would I be nervous?
We were going to win anyway.
Still, it was true that our hitters had done almost nothing except for my solo home run.
I allowed two hits but completed the inning without trouble.
Kim Beom-jin did the same.
Aside from me, he had allowed only one hit.
My second plate appearance arrived.
140 km/h.
It was slightly slower than his fastball, but a powerful two-seam came toward me.
“Strike!”
It barely clipped the strike zone.
Low and outside.
Not bad.
It seemed he was trying to use a two-seam while he was still young, relying mainly on velocity.
That judgment was not bad either.
But because he had only recently added the two-seam alongside his fastball, there was a clear difference in velocity.
150 km/h.
When another fast pitch came, I swung without hesitation.
High inside fastball.
“Foul!”
I did not hit it cleanly.
Kim Beom-jin looked slightly pleased.
Was it because he had pushed me to two strikes?
When we faced each other in high school weekend league games, the matchup was usually decided before the count reached this point.
Either I got a hit.
Or he got an out.
Most of the time, though, it ended with me hitting a home run.
Who had hit consecutive home runs against the supposedly great Kim Beom-jin?
Me.
125 km/h.
A curve with a large drop came in, but my bat did not move at all.
It was going to drop below the zone anyway.
Two strikes, one ball.
Another fastball went low.
I could tell even with my eyes closed.
That pitch was too fast for Kim Beom-jin to control properly.
155 km/h.
The uncontrolled fastball bounced in the dirt.
Two strikes, two balls.
I calmly watched it go.
You could not get me out with pitches like this.
It was about time for him to bring out his finishing pitch.
Fastball?
Two-seam?
Or slider?
He could even use the same pitch I had hit for a home run earlier.
There were several possible mind games.
Which one would come?
I could sense it instinctively.
Knowing Kim Beom-jin’s personality, he would try to be perfect.
138 km/h.
Slider.
A two-seam would have been slightly faster.
It was not a hard fastball either.
The catcher had probably called for a slider breaking outside.
Crack!
I swung immediately.
I was not trying for extra bases.
It was a light swing.
The ball flew high and just barely cleared the infield at decent speed.
The right fielder and first baseman both ran toward it, but the ball dropped awkwardly between them.
I quickly reached first.
I would never forget Kim Beom-jin’s expression at that moment.
He was not irritated.
He was not angry.
He looked anxious.
Manager Park Pil-seong quietly thought.
Kim Beom-jin had lost again.
Choi Seong was flying again.
Honestly, this was the worst.
He hated it.
Park Pil-seong had debuted as a professional player in the 2010s, but never made much of an impact.
People even said his second life as a coach was a miracle.
After producing decent results as a coach, he had somehow continued working as a manager until now.
But whenever he saw superstar players, complicated feelings rose inside him.
Former Doosan manager Choi Seung-ryong, who had been fired.
He had been a superstar who dominated the late 1990s and 2000s.
Just like Choi Seong’s current arrival.
His personal record for most home runs in a single season still remained an unbroken wall.
“He only got anywhere because of his old reputation.”
A manager without a great playing career like Park Pil-seong had to prove everything through results.
That was why he liked Choi Seong, yet hated him at the same time.
There were two reasons.
First, the fact that Choi Seong was so good triggered Park Pil-seong’s inferiority complex.
Second, maybe one day they could work together through free agency.
The Oceans had a foreign manager anyway.
Perhaps Park Pil-seong himself could eventually take that job.
Those were his two thoughts.
If a talented player existed, Park Pil-seong wanted to use him.
Then use that talent to lead a team.
It was like wanting jewels for no reason other than keeping them in your own box.
Fifth inning.
Kim Beom-jin had allowed one run in the first, but was pitching very well.
Park Pil-seong did not care much.
Other pitchers could do roughly the same.
His judgment was simple.
Before calling Kim Beom-jin up to the first team, he had looked into his reputation from high school.
Kim Beom-jin had clearly been a reliable ace at his old school.
However, he had experienced serious conflict with Manager Gu Byeong-seok near the end.
When Park Pil-seong asked Gu Byeong-seok why, the answer was simple.
“He doesn’t listen. He doesn’t even appreciate the person who raised him.”
Gu Byeong-seok refused to explain further.
Park Pil-seong could roughly imagine what had happened.
Maybe Gu Byeong-seok had ordered an intentional walk and Kim Beom-jin had ignored it.
Or perhaps, just like Park Pil-seong, he had considered ordering him to hit a batter, and Kim Beom-jin refused.
Still, Park Pil-seong had no intention of ordering him to hit Choi Seong right now.
Everyone in baseball would immediately know the order came from him.
If that happened, he would simply have to turn Kim Beom-jin into a cheaper version of Choi Seong.
“Get the bullpen warming.”
“What? But Beom-jin is pitching well...”
“Didn’t you hear me? Get them warming.”
The head coach flinched and called the bullpen.
They started warming pitchers in the third inning, even though the actual substitution would probably happen around the fifth.
Park Pil-seong intended to keep applying pressure.
If he wanted to create a budget Choi Seong, this much pressure was necessary.
Kim Beom-jin glanced toward the bench.
