For the supporters of Practical Academy, today's game felt like a roller coaster:
Before the game began, even the most loyal supporters of Practical Academy wouldn't dare to say, "We can defeat Waseda Industries."
—After all, for a team whose best historical result was merely the fifth round, the mindset when facing a powerhouse should be to lose by less, treat it as a win, and enjoy the process.
However, the development of the game overturned their previous beliefs: under Sanzaki Yuuki's full performance, by the end of the eighth inning, Practical Academy was still leading Waseda Industries by 3:1—"We can really win!" This thought appeared in the minds of Practical Academy's supporters for the first time.
But the scoreboard above the field truly reflected the current situation—bottom of the ninth, Waseda 5:3 Practical Academy.
From leading by 2 points to trailing by 2 points, it all happened in just half an inning, lasting no more than half an hour.
In the stands, the students who came to cheer for Practical Academy found it hard to accept the truth. The players who couldn't make it to the roster held their heads in their hands, mouths agape, each with furrowed brows; the emotional girls even shed tears, burying their heads in their cheering scarves to avoid being seen.
And those who couldn't come to the scene, who could only cheer for their school team in front of the TV, and alumni, none of them could smile anymore.
—The middle-aged men lit cigarettes, trying to numb their nerves with nicotine while recalling their youthful days; some students dared not watch anymore, closing their eyes tightly, and clasping their hands to pray to God for favor once more.
The most cruel thing in the world is no more than giving hope and then plunging one into despair:
If before the game someone told these supporters of Practical Academy that they would battle Waseda for nine innings and then lose narrowly by 3:5, they wouldn't be disappointed, and they might even feel content;
But now, no one could say, "It doesn't matter if we win or lose" or "we did our best" —when the chance of victory was right in front of them but not seized, the regret and pain of losing the game become even deeper and heavier.
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Standing on the pitcher's mound, Lin Guanglai felt his body tense, and his thoughts began to tumble chaotically in his mind.
After all, this was the bottom of the ninth—the most charming and thrilling moment of a baseball game, unparalleled by any other sport.
A single hit could turn the tide for the losing side; a strikeout could render the entire stadium silent; a misstep could squander all the efforts of the game—in over a hundred years of baseball history, countless miracles have begun from the bottom of the ninth.
Slowly closing his eyes and gently stretching his body, Lin Guanglai tried to clear his mind, not to think about the tense situation now, but rather to treat the upcoming match like an ordinary inning.
Opening his eyes again, the opponent's batter had already settled in the batter's box—for the first three batters of this half, they matched the heart of Practical Academy's lineup, so Lin Guanglai needed to navigate more patiently facing them.
Observing the stance of the first batter of Practical Academy closely, Lin Guanglai noticed the batter liked to stand close to the home plate—after exchanging signals with Tsuchiya Ryota, he threw the first pitch of the bottom of the ninth.
—A fastball low inside.
The closer to the home plate, the less adjustment room the batter has when facing inside pitches. High school hitters don't have the swing adjustment abilities as strong as professional players—so, against batters who like to stand close to the home plate, attacking their inside is the most effective way.
No surprise, facing the baseball coming tightly at his inside corner, the first batter of Practical Academy didn't choose to swing—making a rash swing at such a ball is almost handing the opponent a strike.
0 balls, 1 strike.
For the second pitch, Lin Guanglai chose to throw a curveball.
The thinking here was to continually disrupt the batter's hitting rhythm through the variation in pitch types between a curveball and a fastball and their huge speed difference, causing the batter to make a wrong judgment.
Obviously, facing this second pitch significantly slower than the first, the batter couldn't resist and wanted to swing—after all, Practical Academy was still trailing by two points, and the desire to get on base urged the batter to swing.
However, the reason a curveball is called a curveball is due to its noticeable deviation and trajectory shift after being thrown, diverting from the anticipated direction by the batter—and Lin Guanglai's curveball's displacement was even more pronounced.
The batter swung and missed for this pitch.
0 balls, 2 strikes.
For the third pitch, Tsuchiya Ryota at home plate signaled for a high-speed ball to the inside high corner—with a huge advantage of two strikes, an inside high-speed ball is the best way to tempt the batter to swing.
Lin Guanglai nodded, lifted his leg, generating power, rotating, throwing—red and white baseball left his hand, flying straight toward the inside high corner of the Practical Academy batter;
The situation of two strikes imposed substantial pressure on the batter, and coupled with the sensitive position of the inside high corner, even a ball outside the strike zone might sometimes be called a strike by the umpire, so the batter dared not take a swing, choosing to swing anyway.
"Strike, out!"
Watching the opposing batter swing and miss, Lin Guanglai stretched his clenched right fist towards the sky and shouted, cheering for himself and his teammates.
One out, two batters to go.
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When the baseball was hit by the fourth batter of this inning from Practical Academy, Lin Guanglai's heart twitched violently—if this ball went out, the score would be tied again.
Keeping a close eye on the high-flying baseball, after roughly judging the ball's speed and trajectory, Lin Guanglai raised his right hand, signaling the outfield to prepare for the catch.
"I got it!!!" Right fielder Onoda Shunsuke shouted to remind his teammates while sprinting quickly towards the falling direction of the baseball. After estimating the general landing spot of the baseball, Onoda stood still, waiting for the baseball to come down.
At this moment, all the spectators' eyes were on Onoda: Supporters of Waseda Industries naturally hoped Onoda would secure the out; while Practical Academy could only pray for the baseball to fly a bit further.
Facing the dazzling sunlight of a summer afternoon, Onoda lifted his glove, stretching it towards the direction of the falling baseball.
With a "pop," the baseball was caught securely by him.
"Batter out, game over!" The umpire made the final call of the game. Under his signaling, the players from both sides lined up on either side of the home plate.
"Waseda Industries 5:3 Practical Academy."
"Winner, Waseda Industrial School."
"Both sides, salute!"
After nearly three hours of intense battle, the players from both teams were utterly exhausted—whether it was Waseda Industries or Practical Academy, they had given their all in this game.
Taking off their baseball caps, the players bowed to their respectable opponents and stepped forward to shake hands.
After the post-match salute, led by the captains of their respective teams, the players headed to their cheering stands to show gratitude to all those who supported the teams.
In front of the stand for Practical Academy, amidst the comforting voices urging, "It's okay" and "Try again next year," Miyazaki Tomohiro could no longer suppress the regret in his heart—he had given up a home run as soon as he took the mound, causing the team to lose this game, and he felt he had let down everyone's trust and efforts—his self-blame made it hard to control his emotions, and he knelt on the ground sobbing.
While others tried to pull the kneeling Miyazaki Tomohiro up from the ground and calm him down, Sanzaki Yuuki, uncharacteristically, stood still without any action—if one observed closely, his eyes were already filled with tears, just forcing them not to fall.
First-year Miyazaki still has a future, but his own dream must end here.
Sanzaki Yuuki turned around secretly, away from the sight of supporters and teammates on the stands, as warm tears streamed down his face.