Chapter 276: MGP!!!
After Yamaoka was walked on four balls, the situation became even more severe—nobody out, runners on first and second.
"Seventh batter! Second baseman, Hirai!"
"Although Hirai is more of a technical hitter, judging by Inashiro's style and the current situation, they'll probably go with a safe bunt! Don't get nervous, Kawakami! Let's secure at least one out first!" Miyuki signaled encouragement to the pitcher, while beside him Hirai openly showed a sacrifice bunt stance.
At this stage, every single run had become crucial. Rather than risking a two-run attack, they would rather secure a stable one run.
"Whoosh!"
Clink!
"To first!"
Pop!
"Out!"
"Successful sacrifice bunt! One out, runners on second and third! Inashiro's tying run has reached third base, and the runner from first has entered scoring position!
Can Inashiro pull off another comeback?"
"Eighth batter! Left fielder!"
"A forced run play is very possible here!" Miyuki thought, signaling the infield to move forward while the outfield tightened its middle coverage. But they also had to watch out for a sacrifice fly.
Even though Seidou's three outfielders all had strong arms, they couldn't rule out the possibility of a sudden surprise attack.
At this stage, things like pride or aesthetics were meaningless—everything had to give way to victory. The pride most needed by a king was winning.
Having suffered a huge loss last year, Seidou would not let it happen a second time.
"With their defense prepared this much, it'll be a straight showdown!" Coach Kunimoto cracked his neck as he thought.
The runner on third was their ace—the most important player they needed to protect. Unless absolutely necessary, Coach Kunimoto didn't want Narumiya to risk a collision at home.
In a game this important, a home-plate crash would never be gentle. Just like Oni-san's collision, or Miyuki's collision in the fall season—both opponents had definitely done it with some degree of intention. Both sides were fighting with everything they had.
Coach Kunimoto gave no additional signs—because everything that needed to be instructed had already been decided beforehand.
A coach who jumps around on the bench throughout an entire game only proves his lack of ability.
"First pitch! Fastball on the outside corner! Even if it's a ball, it's fine!"
"Whoosh!"
One had to admit—Kawakami's mouth shape when pitching really did look a bit like a rodent.
Crack!
"Foul!"
Against a pitcher with good control, the hardest part was discerning balls from strikes.
Kawakami's weapons were his four-quadrant precision control, the vertical width created by his sidearm angle, and a lone breaking ball—the slider.
"Second pitch! Outside slider!"
"Whoosh!"
Boom!
Pop!
"Strike!"
"Second pitch slider! The batter swings and misses!"
"Yoshi! Only two pitches and he's already cornered him!"
"This is the pressure of a championship game! Even the bottom of the lineup can exert this much pressure!" Kawakami's mental stability was indeed a problem.
The more critical the moment, the more nervous he became.
"Whew!"
"Third pitch—shift it one ball's width inside, an inside fastball!"
"Yah!"
"Whoosh!"
Clink!
"Foul!"
"The intention here is to deliberately foul off borderline pitches since they're too hard to judge!"
"Whew…"
"Falling behind in the count against a pitcher like this really is painful…But I can't just get taken down so easily! This is a perfect opportunity!" Inashiro left fielder took a deep breath, adjusting mentally.
The pressure went both ways—but Kawakami's psychology was still too fragile. He couldn't think that far right now.
This caused him to internalize all the pressure without being able to release it.
"One more pitch! This one should be even more inside than the last! Then finish him with an outside slider!" Miyuki had already decided on the sequence.
"They're not going to give me anything good to hit anyway! Then I'll aim for a fastball! If it's hittable, I won't hold back!" Inashiro left fielder fixed his approach.
"Whoosh!"
"Too far inside! That's going to get hit hard!" Seeing the incoming pitch, Miyuki was shocked, but all he could do was brace to catch it.
"Fastball!"
BOOM!!
CRACK!
"Not good!"
"Ahhh!" Manager Ota howled instinctively.
This hit was powerful and clean!
Narumiya on third and Yamaoka on second took off almost on reflex.
"Whoosh!"
SMACK!!
Masuko leapt diagonally with all his strength, forcibly snagging the blazing line drive out of the air.
The runners were completely caught off guard. By rule, they had to return to their original bases.
Narumiya dove for third, but he was still a step too slow—Masuko landed and instantly dove onto the bag, touching it first thanks to the closer distance.
As a stone-wall third baseman, he had done this more than once.
He had even shown a similar solo performance in the Yakushi game.
"OUT!"
"DOUBLE PLAY!!! By third baseman Masuko!!
Three outs! Change sides!!!
With one out and runners on second and third, Seidou preserves their lead!"
"YOSSHAAAA!!!"
"Masuko-senpai! Awesome defense!"
"Masuko!!!" Manager Ota once again experienced a journey from hell to heaven.
Even Coach Kataoka shouted, and Chris-senpai nearly snapped the pen in his hand—so Ota's reaction was nothing.
Masuko didn't even bother to pick up his hat—he immediately struck his signature pose: deep side squat, right arm flexed prominently.
"It's here!!! MASUKO'S VICTORY POSE!!!
MGP! (Masuko's Glory Pose—the initials in English!)"
Sawamura raised his left arm, head lowered, wearing a blissful expression.
Pudding-senpai grinned and gave him a thumbs-up in response.
Though with that shaved head, looking like a gangster, the intimidation was a bit strong…
Then Masuko finally picked up his hat.
"MGP!"
"MGP!"
"MGP!"
"MGP!"
And the entire cheering section, whipped up by Sawamura, roared in unison!
"This is huge!" Akiko Oowada finally exhaled the breath she held as Kawakami threw that last pitch.
"Ah! With this, Seidou's morale will rise to its peak!Even Kawakami, who has always seemed mentally fragile, should be greatly encouraged! However…"
Mine Fujio didn't finish his thought. The next inning was the final inning. With Kawakami's personality, could he really handle the closer's role?
"Or… will Seidou continue to rely on this defensive lineup?
But really, they have no other choice!" Fujio shook his head.
Although he knew Sawamura had great potential and an interesting pitching motion, he was still just a first-year. He simply ignored the possibility of Sawamura appearing in the final inning.
And truly—unless Kawakami collapsed or got knocked out, Coach Kataoka would never switch pitchers.
High-schoolers grow fast—one year's age difference already meant a huge gap, especially when the older year had a full year of professional-level training.
Sendo, for example, had such a late birthday that he was effectively two years younger than some second-years.
"This defense lineup is seriously terrifying…" Harada said as he returned to the bench after the inning ended.
"If the pitcher can't throw good pitches, it's meaningless! How long can a defense based on luck hold? You can't reach Koshien on luck alone." Narumiya said coldly.
"Naru…" Harada murmured.
"Hey, Yassan!"
"Yeah?"
"From earlier, you keep spacing out from time to time.
Did you notice something? I saw you staring at that bastard more than once, you know!"
As Narumiya's closest partner, Harada was not someone who could be easily fooled. At this point, these two had such good chemistry they were practically telepathic.
Sometimes just an expression or a glance was enough to understand what the other was thinking.
"No, it's just… I was amazed at how small the world really is, and how it loves to play tricks on you."
"What kind of answer is that?"
"But! I did remember something—information about Sendo!"
"Huh? So you really found something?" Narumiya had only asked casually; he never expected Harada to actually give a yes.
"It's not even a 'discovery.' Rather, it's just… memories."
"What are you trying to say, Yassan?"
"Sendo and I actually knew each other six years ago, and we even played a match back then! I just remembered it now. So I also remembered a few things about him."
"I see." Narumiya recalled how Yassan had repeatedly said Sendo looked strangely familiar.
"So what's the information? It has to be one of his weaknesses, right?" Narumiya immediately shifted his focus to the important part.
He cared a lot about Sendo's weak points.
"That guy really is a monster… that hasn't changed one bit." Harada laughed helplessly.
"I didn't ask you to compliment him. I want intel!" the tsundere Narumiya snapped, impatient.
"To be honest, it's not exactly a weakness. Sendo basically plays baseball relying almost entirely on his physical talent."
"Huh?"
Narumiya's tsundere expression froze, then twisted into mild dissatisfaction—pouting, irritated.
"Exactly. From what I knew before, and from the information up to now–Sendo was practically a complete amateur before entering high school. Even now his techniques show obvious signs of being learned in a rush. Six years ago, back in elementary school, his swing decisions were already like that. But one of his teammates at the time shouted out the reason in excitement. Sendo couldn't distinguish balls from strikes. A normal batter won't swing at anything that's even two balls away from the strike zone, but Sendo couldn't tell. Even then, he was never sure whether a pitch was a ball or not."
"I see! So that's why his swing selection is such a mess! But that guy can still hit bad pitches anyway, right? Doesn't matter much." Carlos said.
"Exactly—it doesn't matter for most pitchers.
But if it's Narumiya, there's a chance you can exploit that flaw without him noticing."
"I'm being praised!" Narumiya reacted fast, placing his left hand behind his head, face full of bliss.
"If that's true, then their No. 4–5 combo isn't as terrifying as it seems. But why didn't Seidou strengthen that part of Sendo's training?" Yabe asked.
"For the sake of immediate fighting strength," Coach Kunimoto responded.
"Coach!"
"If he entered high school as a near-beginner in technique, then the staff would naturally teach him things that would make him combat-ready quickly. Plus, his inability to distinguish balls and strikes—well, for a player like Sendo, there simply aren't pitchers who can really exploit that. That's why his batting skyrocketed in these last few months. The flaws caused by that approach were either covered up or neutralized entirely by his talent. That's what you wanted to say, right, Harada?"
"Exactly. That's why I said he's a real monster. This kind of weakness can only be exploited once. And we have the pitcher capable of doing it. Plus, it's already the final innings… Looks like Lady Luck is on our side!" Harada sighed again.
He had already sighed like this countless times today.
Whoosh!
Pop!
Whoosh~!
Inashiro's third-year backup pitcher Iguchi continued practicing hard in the bullpen, letting out his usual verbal tic with each throw.
"Nice pitch! The ball's really moving, Iguchi-san!" the backup catcher Itsuki encouraged.
Pop!
"Whoosh~!" Iguchi exhaled lightly after receiving the return throw.
Seidou's bench had such a second-year player as well…
But speaking of Iguchi—he was an exceptionally strong pitcher. Not inferior to Manaka of Ichidaisan, or Kiryu's Hiromi.
He was definitely stronger than any pitcher Seidou had faced along the way, including Yakushi's Sanada at his current level.
"Iguchi-san is a third-year. Of course he's burning with fighting spirit for this last big tournament. No matter the situation, he should be able to execute his pitching. But… I never expected we'd enter the final inning trailing by one. And even less did I expect Narumiya would give up eight runs in this match!"
"Sendo Akira… just thinking about him gives me goosebumps," Itsuki said with a shiver.
Of the eight runs scored this game:
—A two-run inside-the-park homer at the start,
—A run stolen with pure running speed in his second at-bat,
—Then a three-run homer…
Basically, Seidou's scoring was carried almost entirely by him alone.
How could that not strike fear into people?
Itsuki didn't even dare imagine the future. The fact that Sendo was the same grade as him—a first-year—was something a bench player like him absolutely didn't want to think about.
Two more years in the same division as this kind of monster.
At least he wasn't in charge of collecting data, otherwise he would also know that in the same West Tokyo division, there was another first-year named Raichi—another monster.
Though compared to Sendo, Raichi was the more "adorable" type of monster.
Coincidentally, Inashiro's situation resembled the original timeline a bit: final inning, trailing by one, starting the bottom with the ninth batter.
The scoring was much higher than in the original timeline, of course.
But Seidou's situation was worse—starting with their No. 9, not No. 6 like before.
The fact that both Harada and Itsuki could sigh like this meant they never imagined themselves losing.
Their defense was still solid, while Seidou's had far too many weaknesses.
After all, Seidou had two inexperienced first-years—Furuya and Haruichi—both prone to errors. And Haruichi was playing at second base, a position that heavily relied on coordination.
Even in the original timeline, Haruichi still made errors with Kuramochi in the late Fall Tournament, let alone in summer.
As for Kawakami on the mound—even as a second-year, he was a time bomb in critical moments.
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