The Genius Pitcher Dad Throws for His Daughter - Chapter 73

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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 73
#73.
Daejeon Phoenix VS Busan Dolphins.
Phoenix Park was sold out today, a Sunday game, with the mere presence of the starting pitchers drawing the crowds.
In truth, with the season winding down and both teams’ records leaving much to be desired, filling the stadium would normally be a difficult feat.
Yet fans and journalists who knew the story of these two starting pitchers had anticipated this game since the night before.
[Park Myung-hwan and Kang Ho-jin, bound by the thread of master and apprentice! A clash between mentor and student!]
[A duel of curves—one crafted through seasoned experience, the other brimming with audacious youth!]
[A confrontation spanning generations! What will be the outcome?!]
Countless journalists had already proven their anticipation, churning out articles from late into the night right up until game time.
Naturally, for the fans, the articles themselves mattered, but as supporters, this game was something that tugged at their very heartstrings.
– How the hell am I supposed to watch this without crying?!
– Wife and daughter. Honestly, it’s an invincible tear button. sob
– I just support you regardless of whether you win or lose. ㅜㅜ
– I hope both of you are happy. ㅜㅜㅜ
These weren’t merely fans of a single team, but supporters who knew the story of these two men, and they wrote messages of encouragement all the more earnestly because of it.
Yet what they were watching was baseball.
Until the game began, the forum had been filled with posts supporting both teams’ starting pitchers and anticipating their performances, but it transformed in an instant once play commenced.
– Damn it, I could do better than that!
– Are they scarecrows?! They just stand there staring!
– Why swing at a pitch that’s clearly out of the zone?!
– Watch the ball and hit it, you idiots!
– What the hell are you doing?!
The fickle nature of sports.
The moment the baseball game began, the peaceful forum transformed into a battlefield in seconds.
It wasn’t just one team’s community—both the Dolphins and Phoenix forums were ablaze.
* * *
“Come on! Block properly!”
“Catcher! What are you doing?! Stop dropping the ball!”
“Do it right! Do it right!”
These were the voices I heard as I came down from the field after finishing defense in the bottom of the third inning.
“Huff… huff….”
And there was Hyun Myung-su, looking half-dead as he trudged along.
The moment I reached the Dugout, I hastily removed my catcher’s gear and collapsed against the bench, utterly spent.
Senior Pitcher Bang Ho-gun tossed a towel to my exhausted face and pressed a water bottle into my hands.
“Th-thank you….”
“Don’t talk. Just recover.”
I wiped the sweat drenching my face with the towel.
I sipped the water slowly and carefully, one mouthful at a time, and only after draining the entire bottle did my ragged breathing finally begin to stabilize.
The other senior pitchers watching me shook their heads and clicked their tongues.
“This is killing him, absolutely killing him.”
“If it were me, I’d be thinking about retirement.”
“After retiring, I wouldn’t even piss in the direction of Busan.”
“Even if my hometown is Busan, I wouldn’t go back.”
“Hey! You okay?! Get it together?!”
The other senior pitchers tossed jokes one by one at Hyun Myung-su, who looked like he was dying on his feet.
But it seemed like nothing was reaching Hyun Myung-su’s ears—he was being drained both physically and mentally.
All I could tell was that he was alive from the occasional twitching of his body and the heaving of his chest as he gasped for breath.
“Um… Ho-jin…”
“Yes, Coach.”
The Pitching Coach approached me carefully.
Then, seeing the concern in his eyes, I nodded as if everything was fine.
“I’m okay.”
I’m fine.
Over three innings, I’d thrown forty-nine pitches.
That was more than usual, but it was unavoidable given Hyun Myung-su’s blocking and weak fielding.
Four errors by the catcher.
Two were balls that rolled all the way to the net behind Home Plate, one was a routine fly ball he should have caught but didn’t, and the last one—he kicked the ball with his back foot while searching for it, letting what should have stopped at Second Base roll all the way to Third Base.
Despite the catcher’s successive errors, we’d managed to keep it scoreless thanks to the infield’s concentration.
“Good! Let’s keep it up!”
“Myung-su! Your brothers are here! Don’t worry!”
“You’re doing great right now!”
Even as the other senior pitchers encouraged him, Hyun Myung-su couldn’t respond.
He was desperately throwing his body around, rolling near Home Plate to catch every ball that fell, and by now he was covered head to toe in dirt. It was almost laughable—you’d think he’d been rolling around alone on some playground.
But no one dared to tease him about it.
He was using his entire body to make sure he didn’t miss a single pitch I threw, and thanks to that, we were keeping it scoreless.
Though there were four errors, if we counted strictly and said all of them should have been caught, we could’ve easily had over ten errors. So this was actually pretty good.
And after each inning ended, I personally dusted off Hyun Myung-su’s uniform a bit. I’d say a word or two to him.
“You’re doing well. Just keep it up, and focus on catching the ball.”
“Yes, Senior Pitcher.”
Despite his exhausted face and ragged breathing, Hyun Myung-su answered clearly, then rested to recover.
You might think it was excessive, but I could definitely feel his reactions and movements improving as each inning passed.
It made me think that his usual sluggish demeanor and complicated mindset might have been because his body was too worn out.
Anyway, the game continued like that, and the top of the fourth inning ended without any runs.
Even though the batting order had cycled through once, Myung-hwan showed his true form.
Our batters were helpless against his fastballs in the 140 km/h range and curves that varied in speed. He pulled out different pitches to catch batters off-guard and shut us down without a run.
The only concern was the pitches piling up rapidly.
Because runners kept getting on base due to close outs, forcing him to keep pitching inning after inning, his pitch count kept climbing.
And having to manage a rookie catcher on top of all that? It’s killing him.
‘I’m getting tired too.’
Worrying about this and that, I couldn’t help but grow exhausted.
That said, I couldn’t call up Bang Ho-gun, my fellow catcher, either. If I thought about it coldly, Hyun Myung-su was just slightly better than Bang Ho-gun.
It was like comparing acorns by height, but considering that Hyun Myung-su was younger, it was an investment in the future and a sure bet.
Now I had to take the mound for the fourth inning, and thinking about the remaining innings, I had to survive on 52 pitches. Even if I recovered a bit as time passed and managed to add two more, at best I’d pitch about seven innings today.
‘The Bullpen is already getting worn out….’
Yesterday’s game went into extra innings, which put significant strain on the Bullpen.
The silver lining was that tomorrow was Monday, a day off, so I wasn’t too worried, but considering we were on the road, returning and resting here wasn’t the same as resting at home.
Ultimately, I needed to throw as many innings as possible, but Park Myung-hwan was pitching too well for that.
“Swing! Batter out!”
The top of the fourth inning—Phoenix’s defense and the Dolphins’ offense.
By the way, the Dolphins had sent nine batters to the plate so far, and every at-bat had ended in either a strikeout or an infield fly.
Even the pitch count was well-managed; he’d only thrown 39 pitches, averaging 13 per inning.
“Swing! Batter out!”
Actually, let me correct that.
He’d thrown 42 pitches—five strikeouts and the rest all fly balls.
With no one reaching base, I could see spectators here and there beginning to recall historical records.
After the batting order cycled through once and we faced the next three batters, Park Myung-hwan produced two more strikeouts and a fly ball, then turned his gaze toward me.
A smirk.
I shook my head at his satisfied expression.
“Tch, can’t be helped.”
If Kang Do-bin had been behind the plate, the result would probably be different right now.
The pitch count would be much lower, and by reading the batter’s movements and suggesting new approaches, he would’ve managed the game more flexibly.
But Hyun Myung-su lacked that experience and knowledge, so the game unfolded as it was.
Still, one thing was certain: Hyun Myung-su’s growth was visible.
‘He’s really working hard. And I mean really….’
From what I know, baseball is one of those sports where your entire body gets covered in dirt.
And that dirt-covered appearance proved just how hard you’d worked—it was evidence of a player’s effort.
Look.
There’s the proof right in front of me.
Kang Ho-jin-! Hyun Myung-su-!
Kang Ho-jin-! Hyun Myung-su-!
The roaring cheers of fans as we two took the ground for the bottom of the fourth inning.
Hyun Myung-su, who’d been half-dead until now, stopped in his tracks with a bewildered expression and looked toward the Third Base Cheering Section packed with fans.
His face showed surprise at hearing fan cheers he’d never received before, and disbelief that this was actually happening.
I tapped Hyun Myung-su’s backside with my glove and said:
“What are you doing? Raise your hand or something.”
“Huh? Huh?!”
Without thinking, Hyun Myung-su raised his hand as I told him.
And the fans responded to it.
Waaaaaah-!
Hyun Myung-su flinched at the roar that thundered through the stadium.
Releasing my junior’s stiffened hand—overwhelmed by a fervor I’d never felt even at Sajik Baseball Stadium—I guided him toward the ground and spoke.
“You can miss. You can let it slip. Everyone knows you’re giving your all. Let’s just do our best.”
At my words, Myung-su’s eyes suddenly blazed with new fire.
“No, sir! I won’t miss a single pitch!”
With that, he bolted toward Home Plate.
He settled his mask firmly in place, crouched down, and began patting his catcher’s mitt with sharp, deliberate strikes.
Then, glancing at the batter, he pressed the pitch-com before I could—not after.
Four-seam fastball, low and inside.
Now it was my turn to be surprised.
The batter stepping up was a right-hander with a weakness on the outside—and as a left-handed pitcher, outside pitches felt impossibly distant. He’d been helpless against them in his first at-bat. Yet my junior was calling for inside. Doubts flickered, but I threw it anyway, honoring his conviction.
“Strike!”
Remarkably, the batter flinched and stepped back a full pace.
He stared at Myung-su and me with genuine shock, then re-entered the box with renewed resolve.
This time, he didn’t press the pitch-com first—I did.
Changeup, low and outside.
I signaled a pitch that would drop nearly at Home Plate, and the catcher settled his mitt there with quiet readiness.
Seeing him prepared, I threw without hesitation—the ball bounced off the plate earlier than expected.
Crack!
He threw his body in front of it, caught the ball, and fired it to the side.
Technically, there were no runners on base, so the block was unnecessary. But his determination to defend every single pitch I threw with absolute sincerity—that satisfied me deeply.
The count: one ball, one strike.
I was weighing whether to work the count or throw another bait pitch when he aggressively pressed the pitch-com.
Four-seam fastball, high.
He wanted a high-heat fastball up in the zone. I nodded and threw with everything I had, no hesitation.
Whoosh!
“Swing! Batter’s out!”
The bat came through clean, and Myung-su—clearly satisfied—sprang to his feet, his fist clenched tight.
I caught the ball he threw back, pleased to see the confidence blooming on his face.
The next batter was stepping in, and I watched as he said something to Myung-su—something harsh.
My junior lowered his head slightly and settled into position with quiet obedience. In that instant, something surged in my chest unbidden.
‘What? Are they harassing our junior right now?!’
My grip on the ball tightened with fury.
Grrrr!
The first pitch was decided.
And I threw it.
“Damn—?!”
I slowly curved my lips into a smile.
Well, what of it.

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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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