Became the Problem Child of MLB - Chapter 222



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Episode 222 The Moment You See (1)

Ben Rover and Mikey O’Brien.

Both are the third starters for the Red Sox and the Cubs, but experts predicted the Cubs to be stronger. The Cubs’ first and second starters were already strong, so the rotation was pushed out, and Mikey O’Brien is still a strong left-handed pitcher.

Public opinion was in uproar when such a pitcher gave up three runs at the start of the game. The fans were also very disappointed, as he was a pitcher who had been competing with excellent pitching skills.

Commentators were concerned about Mikey’s stamina declining towards the end of the season, and even cautiously raised the possibility that he might be left off the postseason roster.

Veteran pitcher Mikey felt this public opinion without even seeing it. The fans staging a sit-in protest in the stands were the most accurate barometer.

It was a blow to my pride to go into a matchup where I was clearly in a favorable starting lineup and lost. There was no room for reconsideration.

But if the game isn’t over, if the pitching coach doesn’t come up to the mound with the ball, there’s still a chance to make up for it.

It was the top of the sixth inning. With the Cubs’ offense in full swing, Mikey O’Brien…

“Kukuk.”

He chuckled as he watched the opposing pitcher look dumbfounded as Han Je-yi’s hit went through the infield. In the meantime, Sejay Suarez quickly scored home and added another run. The score was now 7 to 3.

“Kid! Did you eat anything good in your room alone?”

“What a disloyal bastard!”

“Let’s share some together!”

“Woooooooooooo-”

The batters booed Han Je-yi heartily for hitting back-to-back RBI singles, and Han Je-yi shook his head as he watched the dugout.

“Hey, Sezai! Run so your feet can’t be seen!”

“Heh, Andy started jumping like that!”

“Look, if I were as fast as you, you wouldn’t be on this team.”

“…That’s harsh!”

And on one side, Sejay was grumbling as he winked at the stands behind the catcher and was caught by Andy McGregor.

“Hehehe.”

Mikey, who was sitting on the bench catching his breath, laughed quietly at the sight.

He knew it too. No matter how many pitches he added or how many mechanics he modified, it would be difficult to become a better pitcher than he is now. The current state is the peak of Mikey O’Brien’s pitching.

There may be a chance that he will break out of the shell, but even if he does, it will be difficult to beat this team’s first and second starters. But that didn’t matter.

Taaak!

“Victor!”

“For God’s sake, you’re forty!”

“Jay! Kid, run! Get in here!”

Aren’t there some Cubs hitters who are just crazy? Not just this season, but the best offensive lineup of all time. They will make you a winning pitcher.

I thought it was a pretty good match.

“Hey, finish it well and come back.”

Mikey asked slyly at the pitching coach’s words.

“Seven times would be too much, right?”

“hmm…….”

The pitching coach, who had already finished talking to the manager, stroked his chin. The quick-witted pitcher chuckled on purpose when he saw the coach looking troubled.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. Why are you thinking so seriously about this, you embarrassing people.”

“Damn it. You stay here. You guys are going crazy trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“If the club doesn’t cover the expenses, tell me. I’ll be there as a witness.”

“That’s so dirty it makes me cry.”

“Just do one thing at a time. Either say thank you so much that you cry, or say thank you so much that you get really, really angry.”

“Hey, if I were good at talking nonsense, my salary would be ten thousand dollars higher than it is now.”

Mikey, who laughed out loud at the pitching coach’s words, went up to the mound in the bottom of the sixth and shut out the inning without giving up a run. He then came down from the mound to applause from the Cubs fans.

“You worked hard. Go in and take a warm shower and come out. Then the other pitchers will have cleaned it up.”

“Haha, that sounds good.”

There was no need to worry about the aftermath. There were fresh pitchers who were clamoring to be used, and veteran bullpen players who were holding the center among them, waiting for their turn.

If there’s just one thing that worries Mikey… … .

“Um, Aiden? Son? How long has it been, oh my. Let me hug you. I think you’ve grown taller since I last saw you.”

“I saw you a week ago.”

“So you’ve grown so much in the meantime? Wow, you’ll catch up to me in just a little bit.”

It was a son’s assessment that was more sober than any critic’s. Game 1 against the Red Sox ended in a Cubs victory. The final score was 8 to 4.

Roger Mendez, who took over the mound, gave up a solo home run but finished the first inning safely, Dylan Schrenk, who is satisfied with his bullpen life, pitched one inning, and Rob Portman, who was ordered to rest due to a large score difference, pitched the ninth inning cleanly.

It was a game where they showed good performance overall. Except for the fact that they gave up the first point in the top of the first inning.

“Okay. I’m ready. Let’s begin.”

After the game, Mikey O’Brien met his family in the clubhouse hallway and started to act cute. Then Aiden O’Brien, who had been hanging on to his waist with his nose buried in his waistband, looked up.

“Dad, why on earth were you so excited? Even if a reptilian (humanoid reptilian monster) was chasing me from behind, I wouldn’t be in such a hurry.”

“Good, you finally took out the comic book you had hidden in the study. Did you know it was rated 12 and above?”

“…That’s not important right now.”

“Yeah, well. Let’s move on for now. Again? Is that all?”

“That can’t be true.”

“Oh, this is it. I was kind of expecting it.”

Mikey O’Brien walked down the hallway with his squeaky son dangling from his waist.

Baseball was a means of communication for a father and son who lived apart for half the year. It happened because he was more familiar with his father wearing his uniform on the other side of the screen than with his father mowing the lawn in the yard.

“Oh my god, someone take this hooligan off me. He’s drooling all over my uniform.”

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“Hehe, that’s a really annoying hooligan. I can’t possibly touch him.”

“Aiden, how have you been? Nice to meet you.”

The father suddenly ignored his son, who was climbing up his body like Tarzan, as the passing players greeted him. Instead, he smiled awkwardly and said,

“Well, Aiden is very happy to see you too. He just seems a little embarrassed right now.”

The son, who had been hiding behind his back, whispered in Mikey’s ear as the players disappeared.

“Still, I think it’s commendable that he overcame it on his own during the game.”

“Well, son, can you speak more childishly?”

“…Dad, you’re the best.”

“Hey, where did you sell your sincerity?”

Mikey, who was giggling, accepted the hat that his son had been holding tightly in his hand for a while.

“But what’s this hat? You should have left it with your mom.”

“I’ll get your autograph.”

“Sign? Who….”

“Jeeeeeeee!”

The weight he had felt behind his back disappeared in an instant. Mikey O’Brien stared blankly at his son’s back as he abandoned his father and rushed toward his teammate.

“Son? Aiden……?”

* * *

Sometimes I imagine myself playing against the Cubs from the opposing team’s perspective. Knowing how we look to the other team’s players gives me perspective on the entire series.

In that sense, the starting lineup of 3-5 starting with Mikey is a nightmare. If you look closely, they are pitchers who could be a one-two punch for other teams.

But the media doesn’t take that into account at all. After all, the only articles the players see after the game are probably heartbreaking articles like, “The Red Sox batting lineup collapsed due to the Cubs’ five starting pitchers. Is this okay?”

If it were my job, I’d honestly be a little annoyed, but… … isn’t everything in the world a little unfair?

Well, the Red Sox’s batting lineup was overshadowed by bigger news. I’m not sure the Red Sox would welcome that.

[Series Shutout! The Cubs cleanly swept the interleague series against the Red Sox. Next stop: San Francisco.]

[Chicago Cubs, just one step away from the all-time wins record (1906)!]

[Game 3 winning pitcher Johnny Garlick (7 innings, 8 strikeouts, 1 run allowed), ‘I want to show a different side of myself in the postseason than last year.’]

[Seungjang coach Sean Tillaherty, ‘The postseason roster is still changing every minute. Nothing is set in stone. Of course, there are names I want to put in the lineup first.’]

[The unstoppable runaway train ‘J’, Cubs’ Han Je-yi who hit the winning shot against Red Sox’s Noel Collins.]

[The 71st arch exploded in the 9th inning! A large and beautiful parabola that decorated the Boston sky.]

[The boy who decorated the MLB.com main page, ‘ONLY TWO-LEFT!’]

└I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you

└Okay, I’ve booked my flight to San Francisco and my tickets to the game. Everyone, please take good care of Chicago.

└I’m going too!

└Damn. Is there any chance that Jay can set a record at home?

└Fuck you, don’t bother going to the bathroom. Just stay home and pray.

In the past, whenever I saw fans like this, I would always think they were just talking nonsense, but not anymore. I can bet my remaining salary that they are 100%, no, 1,000% sincere.

Anyway, there are only seven games left: three against the Giants in San Francisco, then four at home.

Off-season training really shines in situations like this. When everyone else is tired, you can go the extra mile. This is especially important in close situations where it can make the difference.

“I never thought my son would be stolen by a loser, not even my childhood friend…….”

“How long are you going to do that?”

“Until the wounds in my heart heal…….”

“…….”

But I’m not immune to this kind of bullying. After the first game, Mikey would come to me whenever I forgot and mutter with a bitter expression, but after Victor kicked me out because he couldn’t stand it anymore, he only came to me when I was alone.

This guy is also a really dirty and vicious guy. I wonder if it’s because he has that kind of mentality that he succeeded in the major leagues.

“Hey, you’re sleeping? Are you really sleeping?”

That’s it, and I got tired of his persistence, so I folded my arms and closed my eyes as soon as I got on the plane to San Francisco. Surely he wouldn’t bother me by waking up a sleeping person.

Then, without realizing it, I fell asleep. In my dream, I was standing in front of the Commissioner’s Trophy, which is awarded to the World Series winning team.

The players standing in front of me made way for me, and I slowly walked over to pick up the trophy. Then I handed it over to Victor, who was watching me with bloodshot eyes.

Victor, who received the trophy, was silent for a while. Then, he finally opened his mouth to say something.

A crack appeared in the platform, and a large hole appeared under my feet. The hole swallowed me up as if it had appeared just for me, and I fell into an endless underground.

Falling. Falling.

The wind I felt sometime ago brushed past my cheek again. When the darkness that had been blocking my vision cleared, what I saw was a familiar building and yard.

What was spread out underfoot were lush weeds that had been left untouched by human hands. I thought calmly about how much of the shock those grasses would absorb.

I hit the ground and at the same time screamed and jumped up from my seat.

“uh…….”

“hmm.”

“haha.”

“…did you sleep well?”

I didn’t even have time to feel my damp back. Dozens of eyes were staring at me.

The players wearing colorful hats laughed awkwardly, and Victor, who was holding what appeared to be a ‘cake’ instead of the commissioner’s trophy, ran his hand over his face.

Boom. Boom.

After a few passes of my hand, the crushed cake fell to the floor, and Victor, who had spread whipped cream gently on his face, looked at me blankly.

“What are you doing?”

“…your last birthday party as a player.”

“…yes?”

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