In the catcher’s area, Yamakawa Daisuke settled into his crouching position for catching, remaining silent for a while before placing his right hand between his legs, signaling to the pitcher on the mound—Kawamata Angi nodded in understanding.
Konan’s pitcher-catcher combination completed their signal exchange.
Outside the batter’s box, Lin Guanglai stood and swung his bat a few tis, trying to recover the feeling from his first turn at bat; after lingering in place for a mont and gathering his thoughts, he stepped forward into the batter’s box.
On the pitcher’s mound, Kawamata Angi poured rosin onto his hand, but his palm continued to sweat profusely—as a pitcher, Lin Guanglai understood the pressure his opponent was under, and precisely because of this, as a batter, he had to seize this opportunity.
Both the offensive and defensive sides treated this pitch as if it were the last of the entire ga—Fukasawa Kouta on first base and Tsuchiya Ryota on third base were both standing at dangerously far leads, but Konan’s defenders ignored them, focusing all their attention on the duel with the batter.
The nearly 40,000-square-ter Koshien Stadium was silent at this mont—every spectator held their breath, with so even afraid to blink, lest they miss a mont that could be recorded in history.
Kawamata Angi lifted his front foot, then compressed his whole body backward to store up power. When the power reached its limit, his entire body resembled a drawn bow, his raised front foot surged forward toward the pitcher’s mound, his lower body and waist rotated, and the inclined pitcher’s mound provided trendous traction, propelling his arm forward, releasing his fingers at the release point.
The baseball shot straight like a cannonball from the pitcher’s mound.
In the direct confrontation between pitcher and batter, Lin Guanglai naturally did not retreat, but started moving as well.
His front foot lifted slightly and stepped forward, his shoulders and waist rotating, the bat clutched tightly to his body swung out—the mont the bat made contact with the baseball, his hands continued to exert force, propelling the baseball further outwards.
"Clang!"
Bringing this precisely cornered low outside pitch up and out, Lin Guanglai imdiately discarded his bat, sprinting wildly toward first base—the distance that seed short on ordinary days appeared exceedingly long at this mont.
The baseball soared high into the sky, overlooking the people within Koshien Stadium:
In the outfield direction, Konan’s outfielders stood ready, their feet constantly adjusting according to the ball’s direction;
In the infield, including the catcher, all mbers of Konan High School lifted their heads, watching the soaring baseball;
By the players’ area and the stands, people all held the sa posture.
In right field, Mingyi Guijie felt his legs tremble—the baseball was dropping toward his location, about to land in his glove; but precisely at such a mont, he feared missing the catch: the two Waseda Real base runners had already returned to ho plate, with another still sprinting, missing this high fly would spell disaster.
"Pop." Nothing unexpected occurred.
The white baseball, marked with the words "92nd National High School Baseball Championship," landed steadily into Mingyi Guijie’s glove—an explosion of joy surged forth like a tide, enveloping him in imnse happiness.
At the mont the baseball landed in the glove, a wave of applause erupted across the entire stadium—this was the shout of victory from supporting Konan High School, comfort for the losers Waseda Industries, and gratitude for both teams for delivering such an extraordinary ga.
Even though the ga had ended, Lin Guanglai continued to run along the baseline with his head down—only when he lifted his head upon reaching ho did viewers see his expression through the caras:
His handso face was already covered in transparent liquid, whether sweat or tears uncertain, his heart filled solely with regret and reluctance, tears pouring uncontrollably from his eyes.
"Three outs, ga over!"
"5 to 4!"
"Konan High School, they displayed the will and determination of kings! Their dream of consecutive spring and sumr championships continues!"
Inside Koshien, as the ga-ending air raid signals sounded, mbers of both teams gathered near the ho plate area, shaking hands in mutual respect.
Shimabukuro Hiroshi approached Lin Guanglai’s position, extending his hand: "You played really well."
Lin Guanglai likewise extended his hand, replying through sobs: "Shimada-senpai, give it your all in tomorrow’s ga too."
Though opponents in the ga, both recognized each other’s prowess and performance, leaving a deep impression on one another through this contest.
After the post-match greetings concluded, the Waseda Real players retreated to the dugout side on the first base line, leaving the field’s center stage to the victors—next ca the playing of Konan High School’s anthem.
As the music started, Konan’s players stood with smiles and sang loudly in front of ho plate:
"Ah, the southern sea is clear and vast~"
"The academic palace stands tall~"
"Youth and hope soar high~"
"Following the path of truth~"
"We, the proud Konan High~"
"The chi of autonomy rings loud~!"
This marked the first ti in the current tournant that Waseda Real found themselves as the defeated party, forced to watch their adversaries sing their school song and their school flag rise over Koshien.
It wasn’t until now that the realization of loss washed over the players—driven by the overwhelming emotions within, many could no longer hold back their sadness, letting tears streak across their faces.
On so players’ faces, there even remained dirt sared from sliding or diving, with tears mixing with the soil, leaving distinct trails.
Lin Guanglai cried harder than anyone—a crushing defeat against a vastly superior opponent might not have felt as painful; however, because they stood evenly matched, the defeated found it even tougher to accept the loss.
As the person directly leading to the ga’s end, Lin Guanglai’s anguish felt even more intense than his teammates, with remorse, regret, and unwillingness nearly swallowing him whole.
Seeing his tear-streaked face, whether teammates, spectators on site, or television viewers, all couldn’t help but feel a pang of heartache—especially so of Lin Guanglai’s female fans, who wished they could go comfort him in person.
Comntators in the broadcast booth naturally noticed the scene too:
"Waseda Industries’ sumr ends here; for the first-year Lin Guanglai, his first sumr also concludes."
"In a single tournant, he pitched 24.2 innings, allowing only 2 runs, 1 earned—his batting totaled 4 ho runs, driving in 10 runs. This is the report card Lin Guanglai, a first-year, has presented."
"At least in my comntary career, I’ve never seen a first-year achieve such feats—undoubtedly, Lin Guanglai is a rising superstar in the high school baseball world!"
"With this batch of third-year players departing, and against the extensively researched formidable schools in West Tokyo, what will beco of Lin Guanglai next year? Will we see him again at sumr’s Koshien?"
"Dear viewers, let us eagerly anticipate together!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)