The Genius Pitcher Dad Throws for His Daughter - Chapter 54

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 54
#54.
The inning progressed in a flash.
“A swing at the dropping breaking ball! Kang Ho-jin strikes out another batter.”
“Wow, the angle of that drop is pure artistry.”
Kang Ho-jin’s curve never failed to drop.
Some pitches settled obediently into the Catcher’s glove, while others struck the Home Plate directly.
Each time, the Catcher threw his body in front of the ball, his uniform already caked with dirt.
The Batters sprinted toward First Base, desperately trying to survive against the falling pitches.
Yet not a single one made it safely to First Base—they were swept away like autumn leaves.
Kang Ho-jin stepped down, and Park Myung-hwan took the mound once more.
Today’s Park Myung-hwan displayed the form of his prime years, yet seasoned with the wisdom of experience in his pitching.
“This time, an even slower curve—swing and a miss for strike three!”
“The timing is completely off because of the velocity difference between the fastball and the breaking ball.”
“The next batter faced a slightly faster breaking ball than usual.”
“Fast, then slow. A veteran’s cunning on full display.”
His fastball velocity alone made him appear five years younger, and his curve surpassed anything he’d thrown before—he orchestrated a perfect battle of timing through masterful control of pace.
By the end of the sixth inning, after the batting order had cycled twice.
Both pitchers had thrown over seventy pitches, each recording ten strikeouts, yet the score remained deadlocked at 0-0.
The seventh inning began.
Tick—!
A batter who had been swinging and missing finally made contact with the ball.
Kang Ho-jin allowed consecutive blooper hits against the leadoff batter for the first time, and only after throwing ten pitches did he finally secure an out.
To anyone watching, it was clear the Batters’ eyes had adjusted to Kang Ho-jin’s pitches, and if this continued, they would break his momentum entirely.
Yet Kang Ho-jin maintained his pitching composure.
He mixed fastballs and curves strategically, doing everything to minimize his pitch count, and by the end of the seventh inning, he had thrown over eighty-five pitches.
Park Myung-hwan faced the same situation.
Crack—!
A sharp crack of the bat echoed through the stadium, sending chills down the spine.
But the ball curved toward the Stands instead of beyond the Fence, resulting in a foul ball, and a collective sigh laden with mixed emotions swept through the Baseball Stadium.
The Dolphins’ lineup had also grown accustomed to Park Myung-hwan’s pitches and worked the count aggressively.
The leadoff batter went to nine pitches in a tight at-bat, and the second batter extended it to ten.
The pitch count climbed rapidly. Park Myung-hwan gave a small nod.
And in that moment, a two-seam fastball left his hand for the first time.
Tick—!
The batter swung, expecting a curve, and the quick swing resulted in poor contact—the top of the bat made contact, sending the ball floating harmlessly into the air.
Pop—!
“Out!”
Thus, Park Myung-hwan added the two-seam fastball to his arsenal of fastballs and curves, easily securing an out against the third batter.
Silence fell over the Ground.
The natural tension that arose from the breathtaking duel between the two starting pitchers continued unabated. With both players now etching remarkable records into the game, I simply gazed at the Ground, my heart racing with anticipation and wonder, consumed by expectation.
The fans’ cheers had already fallen silent since the sixth inning began.
The two starting pitchers’ fastballs were that good, and the crowd watched with such focus, unwilling to miss a single moment.
Four-seam fastballs and curveballs.
When Park Myung-hwan pulled out a two-seam fastball to continue the duel that had been waged with just two pitch types, someone thought internally.
‘Ah… the passage of time….’
It was a sigh born from the regret that if Park Myung-hwan had been just five years younger, this battle might not have continued to this point.
And more than anything, with both pitchers now having thrown considerably more pitches, we had reached the eighth inning where the heart of the batting order would step up.
The breathtaking pitcher’s duel had only two innings remaining.
* * *
I headed to the Mound for the eighth inning as well.
‘Is it fifteen now?’
As the game had evolved into a pitcher’s duel, one hour and forty-two minutes had elapsed since the start.
After eighteen more minutes passed, one additional pitch would be added to my count, but in truth it was meaningless.
I had somehow managed my stamina to throw a hundred pitches, but the fact that I wouldn’t be able to finish this game myself was somewhat disappointing.
‘Still, at least….’
I felt I had come to understand Senior Pitcher Park Myung-hwan’s curveball.
To make it completely my own, even if I had to leave the Mound, I intended to see this through with curveballs until the end.
I believed this was my respect for Senior Pitcher Park Myung-hwan and my courtesy toward his teachings.
“Ho-jin.”
Senior Pitcher Kang Do-bin approached me.
It was a brief moment before heading to Home Plate.
“Don’t you think it would be better to mix in some other pitches now?”
It showed on the Senior’s face.
The look that came from batters gradually timing up to my pitches. As a Catcher, he would naturally think this, and likely the Manager and Pitching Coach would have the same thought.
Rather than speaking directly to me who was focused on the game, he had spoken to Senior Pitcher Kang Do-bin the Catcher, and now it was being relayed to me.
“No, sir. Today I’m going with just fastballs and curveballs—two pitches only.”
Under normal circumstances, I would listen to the Senior’s advice, but not today.
“I… I see.”
After answering me that way, I watched him turn slightly and shake his head. He was probably relaying the current situation to the Pitching Coach.
I felt sorry for being stubborn during the game, but there was no helping it.
I wanted to make Senior Pitcher Park Myung-hwan’s curveball my own that badly.
I would fill in what I was lacking now and acquire it as a pitch style uniquely my own.
“Hup!”
And so I threw the first pitch fastball against the heart of the batting order.
Crack—!
“Strike!”
A fastball on the outer lower corner, barely catching the zone against the right-handed batter.
It was a distant fastball in terms of being far from the strike zone, but for that batter it must have been a frustrating location, as he smacked his lips and stepped back.
He swung his bat, seemingly adjusting his timing to match the fastball I had just thrown.
Here, there are only two choices.
Either I throw a four-seam fastball to get ahead in the count, or I throw a curveball as if aiming for the fastball, dropping it to avoid the bat.
“Hah….”
I exhaled deeply, covering my mouth with my glove.
In truth, if I threw a splitter now, I could definitely draw the bat out. Even a changeup alone would be sufficient for that purpose.
My head kept demanding cold calculation, but my heart—burning hot and fierce—refused to obey.
Squeeze.
I gripped the curveball and released it.
This pitch, too, was aimed at the lower outside corner, and if luck favored me, it would pass through ABS; if not, it would be called a ball.
‘Oops.’
But I’m only human—a wild pitch escaped me.
The ball didn’t catch my fingers as it should have, creating a flat curveball instead, and the batter, confident against outside pitches, swung without hesitation.
Crack—!
The ball instantly split the gap between left and center field, piercing over the shortstop’s head and rolling toward the Fence.
“Hah….”
As I moved toward First Base for backup, breathing heavily, the batter had already passed First Base and was racing toward Second Base.
Meanwhile, I repositioned myself back toward the Mound to cover in case I was needed, and just as the batter touched Second Base, the ball was delivered to the Second Baseman.
Roaaaar—!
From the Third Base Cheering Section, a thunderous cheer erupted for the first time in a while, calling out the batter’s name.
“Ha Go-won! Ha Go-won!”
The batter, standing on Second Base, clenched his fist and thrust it toward the Third Base Cheering Section.
“Ah….”
“Of all times….”
Sighs of regret echoed from the First Base Cheering Section.
It seemed to stem from disappointment, yet it proved their support for me hadn’t wavered—they began chanting my name.
“Time!”
The Pitching Coach climbed onto the Mound, apparently intending to visit.
It seemed he was coming up to clear the air after the record was broken, and I could see my Senior Pitcher and other teammates approaching with regretful expressions.
Once everyone gathered, I spoke first.
“I’m fine. To be honest, I was too focused on learning Park Myung-hwan’s curveball to worry about a perfect game.”
“R-really?”
“That’s what it was?”
“Phew….”
The Pitching Coach was flustered, while my Senior Pitcher and the others looked bewildered yet relieved.
Since I hadn’t given up a run and this stemmed from my own stubbornness, it was fine. Rather, I felt sorry because I planned to continue being stubborn.
“The Manager says it’s okay even if you give up runs, so do what you want and come down.”
Fortunately, the Manager understood my stubbornness without me even saying it.
“Thank you. I’ll do my best to hold them through this inning.”
“Work hard.”
Believing I could manage through this inning, everyone withdrew.
The game resumed, and Phoenix’s designated hitter stepped into the Batter’s Box.
It was Gu Hyun-im, the same age as both Kim Se-jin from our team and Park Myung-hwan, my opposing pitcher.
Though my curveball had just been hit, I didn’t think he’d be able to connect so easily again. And since I needed to throw the curve for my confidence, I pressed the pitch-com from the first pitch to settle the matchup.
A nod.
With Kang Do-bin positioned toward the batter’s side, I threw the curveball without hesitation.
Crack—!
It was a well-thrown curve.
But Gu Hyun-im’s bat was already waiting for it.
The ball sailed straight over the Fence.
“Ha… haha….”
I threw it well, but the batter hit it even better.
All I could do was laugh in disbelief.
* * *
Kang Ho-jin finished the inning having given up 2 runs.
With no outs, he threw 11 pitches to retire the 6th, 7th, and 8th batters.
He still managed to get them out using only his fastball and curve, finishing the inning at 100 pitches.
Now it was Park Myung-hwan’s turn to take the mound.
As if he’d found a second wind, Park Myung-hwan still threw his pitches with authority.
“Swing! Batter’s out!”
He struck out the 4th batter.
“Out!”
The 5th batter went to a 7-pitch count before Park Myung-hwan tried to induce a ground ball with a two-seam fastball, but he walked instead.
The moment he reached 100 pitches, a record was about to be broken.
“Time!”
With two outs within reach, the Phoenix Manager visited the Mound.
The two of them conversed back and forth for a while, but ultimately the Manager quietly withdrew from the Mound.
Park Myung-hwan remained on the Mound, and the fans cheered for him.
Park Myung-hwan—! Park Myung-hwan—!
Amid that support, the game continued, and the 6th batter, Catcher Kang Do-bin, stepped up.
Park Myung-hwan’s mind wasn’t on any record.
His only thought was winning today’s game, and pitching to shake off the regrets of his younger days.
And from Park Myung-hwan’s hand, which had thrown no bad pitches until now, came his first mistake.
Crack—!
The ball traced a massive arc and flew beyond the Fence, instantly becoming a home run that gave the opposing team a point.
Score 2 to 2.
Since our team was still winning, Park Myung-hwan lowered his head in frustration.
He could give up runs, and though he’d given up countless home runs, this one still felt unfamiliar.
With a bitter expression, he came down from the Mound.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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