CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER 56: THE PITCHER’S RESPONSIBILITY

There’s no denying it, even the harshest high school baseball critics must acknowledge the excellence of the Kurashiki Commerce team: their on-field defense coordination is exceptionally tacit, clearly the result of extensive practice; whether it’s the synergy between the pitcher and catcher, the cooperation between infielders, or the backup from the outfield group, they display absolute trust in each other.

Moreover, what surprised the Waseda Jitsugyo players and the audience on site, as well as the professionals focusing on Takayama events, was the adjustment capability Kurashiki Commerce exhibited during the game:

Setting aside the runs lost due to fluctuations in the fifth inning, throughout the entire game so far, Kurashiki Commerce has been able to make timely adjustments every time a batter hits a base. Either the pitcher strikes out directly, or they intentionally create a ground ball double play situation. Even when the defense seems shaky, they manage to keep the score from widening.

For the Waseda Jitsugyo players, this feeling isn’t so wonderful: it feels as if they’ve fallen into an endless quagmire, the more they struggle and try to hit the ball out, the easier it is to fall into the opposing defense’s trap.

On the substitute bench in the players’ area, Tsuchiya Ryota, who was double-played out by Kurashiki Commerce’s infield combination in the previous half-inning, sighed and then complained to his teammates beside him:

"Ugh—Kurashiki Commerce’s defense is just too solid! I felt like my swing had both power and angle, thought it could go between second and third base to the outfield, but didn’t expect that shortstop to be so fast..."

Sitting next to Tsuchiya Ryota, Fukasawa Kouta patted him on the shoulder, responding with a helpless look: "Well, Ryota, you’re actually better off. At least you didn’t get struck out today, right? I’ve been striking out so much I’m full—I’ve hit Kensuke’s breaking ball plenty in practice, how come I can’t hit it today..."

The two fellow batters exchanged a glance and then shared a bitter smile.

Behind them, Suzuki Kensuke gave each of them a light punch—the force of the punch was very light, just a little tap on the back.

Tsuchiya Ryota jerked his head around, shouting at his teammate, "Kensuke, what are you doing??? Why did you hit me suddenly???"

"Seeing you two so listless, as the captain, it’s my duty to wake you up a bit—don’t let your mind wander while defending, there are two and a half innings of the game left!" Suzuki Kensuke spoke slowly.

"Got it, got it, just watch, Kensuke, there absolutely won’t be any problems with our on-field defense!" Fukasawa Kouta raised his arm to show his muscles, promising his pitcher.

With a light nod to show he understood, Suzuki Kensuke picked up his glove and began to call his teammates onto the field.

Slowly stepping onto the pitcher’s mound, Suzuki Kensuke turned around and looked up at the scoreboard in the Koshien Stadium—after seven innings, the score remained 2-0, with Waseda Jitsugyo leading by two points.

This score, if placed in the last ten minutes of a football match, could almost be considered enough to kill any suspense; but in the top of the eighth inning of a baseball game, one mistake could instantly turn that two-point lead into nothing.

With their lineup consistently failing to produce, winning through offense seemed increasingly unrealistic; Suzuki Kensuke knew that now was the time for him, as the pitcher, to take responsibility!

Having confirmed the pitch selection for this at-bat with catcher Tsuchiya Ryota, without any hesitation, Suzuki Kensuke lifted his front foot, then turned and threw his arm forward—the baseball came at high speed, heading towards the inside low corner of the strike zone against Shimada Keita.

Not particularly good at batting, Shimada Keita was naturally powerless against this pitch, stepping back one step to clear space while letting the baseball through to home plate.

No balls, one strike.

With the inside pitch opening up the outer corner, Suzuki Kensuke gladly accepted the gift—the outer corner low forkball, which was not only fast but also had a significant downward drop.

Shimada Keita, choosing to swing at the ball, was deceived by the pitcher’s motion, clearly mistaking this pitch for a general fastball; the bat and ball seemed to move parallel to each other, appearing only a step apart but actually worlds away.

No balls, two strikes.

Unlike usual, he didn’t choose to persist with balls to engage the batter, and this next third pitch was the deciding pitch that Suzuki Kensuke and Tsuchiya Ryota decided upon together.

Leg lift, gather strength, turn, swing arm, release ball.

The quickly swinging arm cut through the air with a slight sonic boom, and the baseball "whoosh" flew off Suzuki Kensuke’s fingertips, plunging into the catcher’s glove with a "pop" before the batter next to home plate could react—Shimada Keita’s bat just barely managed half a swing, and the ball had already passed through the strike zone.

"Strike, out!" The home plate umpire raised his hand high to the sky, and Suzuki Kensuke on the pitcher’s mound also raised his hand high—this is the first, two more to go!

The Kurashiki Commerce batting order cycled once more, with their leadoff batter Mio Kyosuke stepping back into the batter’s box for the fourth time in this game—so far, in his three previous at-bats, he hadn’t managed a hit: two fly balls caught out, one sacrifice helping a teammate advance, were his current statistics.

Raising the bat high, Mio Kyosuke focused all his attention on Suzuki Kensuke on the mound: "This time, no matter what, I must hit a base hit, it’s about the dignity of being the lead batter!"—that was his truest thought in that moment.

Despite the lack of achievement in his previous three at-bats, Suzuki Kensuke didn’t underestimate him at all:

In baseball, it’s quite common for a batter to miss the ball more often than not; if you look down on an opponent for this reason, you’re bound to pay dearly; someone who can open up the path for the team as a lead batter definitely has some tricks up their sleeve.

Similarly, as a pitcher, Suzuki Kensuke held onto his own pride—the so-called pitcher must bear the expectations of teammates who can’t play, standing on the mound to pitch for the entire team; therefore, he wouldn’t back down in this at-bat, nor could he back down.

With the same leg lift and power gathering, the explosive force from the lower body and hips transmitted to the baseball, which flew toward home plate like a cannonball—even with firm resolve and preparation, not hitting means not hitting, no amount of effort changes that; Mio Kyosuke swung and missed three consecutive times, and in his fourth at-bat in this game, he couldn’t escape being struck out again.

Nine pitches, three outs, a perfect half-inning—this was Waseda Jitsugyo’s captain, third-year Suzuki Kensuke, delivering his answer sheet at the critical moment of the game.