The Prodigy Who Rejected the Major League Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

After the game ended,

I got an earful from both sets of parents.

Apparently, hiding something this big wasn’t exactly forgivable.

“Since when did you start pitching?”

“I’ve been practicing all along.”

In the majors, I threw about twenty innings every season. Never more than that.

Well… except in the postseason.

‘I wanted a World Series ring too, you know.’

And just like that, I ended up wearing one on each hand.

“You’ve been doing it?”

“Yes. Half of it was more like a hobby.”

In the major leagues, it wasn’t a hobby. Half the reason I did it was out of frustration.

I had been on the verge of a big-league call-up as a pitcher when a shoulder injury crushed that dream.

I was diagnosed with both a torn glenoid labrum and a torn rotator cuff.

Even after surgery and rehab, my velocity never came back. For the team, cutting a minor leaguer like me was the easiest decision in the world.

“And you kept working at it?”

“Yes.”

Not here, but before the regression, in the majors, I faithfully did my ‘main job’ and then squeezed in pitcher training whenever I had time.

In other words, my life was nothing but baseball.

I didn’t even realize my relationships were falling apart.

Back then, I didn’t know moderation.

Like someone who would die without baseball. Like I was possessed.

“That’s enough. It’s not like he did anything wrong.”

“Son, are you okay?”

An old memory must have flashed across my face.

“I’m fine. Really.”

But once you start lying, the lies stack up.

Of course, there was no way I could explain the truth.

Father asked a few more questions before getting scolded by Mother.

Uncle and Aunt still looked half-fascinated, half bewildered.

Seunghee noona was absorbed in her phone.

Seunghye was looking at me.

“Uncle, Aunt. I’m not going to the U.S.”

“Huh?”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m staying in Korea.”

“Really?”

“So you’re coming to the Bayseons?”

I knew the Bayseons would come up immediately.

Seunghye’s parents were famous Bayseons fans. I’d counted on that.

“Wait, you knew and still kept it from us? Dongsaeng, I didn’t think you were like that.”

See? The arrow flew straight at Father.

“I’m disappointed.”

Aunt chimed in, sounding just as let down.

Father looked at me helplessly.

It was my idea from the start… let’s keep it secret. Only the family should know.

Let’s wait until after the rookie draft registration deadline passes.

“Seunghye, your reaction’s kind of flat.”

Seunghee noona narrowed her eyes.

“Wh-what?”

“This lukewarm reaction. That’s even more suspicious. Hey, you already knew, didn’t you?”

Her instincts were razor-sharp.

“What?! Seunghye, you knew too?”

“See? They say raising daughters is pointless!”

“Mom, Dad! Why is that suddenly the lesson here?”

“If not now, then when?”

Small skirmishes were breaking out everywhere.

Sorry, everyone.

“Anyway, I’m not going to the U.S. But please keep it a secret for now.”

I explained why.

“That much is easy. You’ve gotta make the other side sweat a little. They’ll offer better terms.”

“But you’re really staying, right? You’re coming to the Bayseons?”

Uncle asked again.

“Yes. As long as they don’t lowball me.”

I intended to stay in Korea if at all possible.

Counting both before the regression and after the first regression, I’d spent nearly thirty years in the United States.

Life had improved since my minor league days, but traveling around the entire country for over half a year, every year, wasn’t easy.

I didn’t want to live like that again.

And right now, being noisy like this with family… I liked it.

It felt like living.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll introduce you to someone the Bayseons can’t possibly lowball.”

???

 

***

 

After my sensational performance in the President’s Cup high school tournament, the calls increased.

Even though I’d decided to stay in Korea, I hadn’t made that public yet.

Honestly, it hadn’t even been a few days since I’d truly started standing out. There wasn’t time for anything else.

“You’re going to need an agency from here on.”

Up until now, the Phillies had been the only major league team showing interest.

And looking back, maybe that ‘interest’ had been more like, ‘If we can sign him cheap, great. If not, whatever.’

But the situation surrounding me had changed completely.

“You’re at least going to hear out the MLB teams, right? It’s not just one or two clubs calling.”

Uncle asked. Father nodded.

Several MLB teams, one or two domestic teams, and even reporters.

“If a player expresses interest in going to the majors, he can sign with an agent.”

Sign the agency contract, hear out all the major league offers thoroughly…

and then choose to stay in the KBO if that’s what I want.

And have the agent assist with domestic negotiations as well.

“Hyungnim, is that allowed?”

“Of course. It used to be informal, but it’s been officially codified now.”

“I see.”

Why hadn’t I heard about this before the regression?

‘Back then, I probably wouldn’t have listened anyway.’

I’d been fixated on going to America.

I didn’t even realize the contract the MLB team put in front of me was basically a scratch-off lottery ticket priced cheaply.

 

***

 

Uncle said he knew someone in the agency world.

One of the few in Korea with an official MLB agent license.

“Hyungnim, you knew an agent like that?”

Considering my ex-wife before the regression, it wasn’t strange at all.

‘Was it Uncle’s network?’

After we divorced, she prepared to become an agent.

Eventually, she grew her own company.

I didn’t know the details after the divorce.

But Uncle’s connections must have played a part.

Anyway, the agency he introduced me to was…

“LipCo?”

I hadn’t expected it to be LipCo Korea… the largest agency in the country.

“So you want to hear offers from both KBO and MLB clubs.”

“That’s right. It’s too early to narrow our options.”

“Exactly. No need to make a public declaration and limit yourself.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say, dongsaeng.”

Was the LipCo CEO also on brotherly terms with him?

“Anyway, take good care of him. He’s like a son to me.”

 

***

 

After beating Sudeok High in the Round of 16 and advancing to the quarterfinals, we faced Gyeongnam Jeil High two days later.

The 5:30 p.m. game turned into a pitchers’ duel through four innings.

The turning point came in the fifth.

Gyeongnam Jeil cracked first.

Their starter, Lee Minwoo, had two outs but allowed a single.

Still, with one out left, the inning should’ve ended smoothly…

But suddenly his command wavered, and he issued a straight four-pitch walk to the No. 2 hitter.

 

┗Pitcher Lee Min-woo now has to face Jeong Dongju.

┗And the next batter is Song Seongjun, isn’t it?

 

Jeong Dongju also worked a full count and drew a walk.

Two outs, bases loaded.

 

┗Gyeongnam Jeil’s head coach, Jeon Minseung, is heading to the mound. They’re making a pitching change!

┗That’s the right call. His command is shaky, and his velocity has dropped.

 

From the quarterfinals onward, the President’s Cup was broadcast on cable TV.

This was the first televised high school game between Gyeongnam Jeil and Seongun High.

And if you were interested enough in high school baseball to watch cable broadcasts, there was no way you didn’t know Song Seongjun.

 

┗ Oh! Bases loaded in front of Song Seongjun!

┗ The table’s set! Seongjun, just enjoy your meal!

┗ What’s he done today?

┗ Two plate appearances, one walk.

┗ Saying it like that makes it sound like he’s been trash lmao

 

The new pitcher was Kang Changsoo.

While he warmed up, Coach Hwang Taeho called me over.

I immediately recited what I’d memorized.

“Fastball averages mid-140s km/h, heavy slider usage, and the curve is his put-away pitch. Right?”

I’d memorized the scouting report.

“And he throws a curve that could work at the pro level… I remember that too, Coach.”

“You remembered all of it.”

“You went to the trouble of preparing it. Of course I remember.”

“Is that so? Hahaha. Then go hit one out. Nothing more to say.”

“Yes, sir!”

The pitcher finished warming up, and I stepped into the box.

“Strike.”

I watched the first pitch.

They said his overall command was good.

“Ball.”

Second pitch, a slider. Movement wasn’t bad.

But by my standards, it was average.

“Strike!”

After seeing the absurd stuff in the majors… This felt mild. Relatively speaking.

“Foul!”

“Foul!”

I fouled off two consecutive sliders.

Then came a fastball.

High… almost head level.

“Ball.”

Probably trying to set something up.

[146 km/h]

But the velocity wasn’t impressive.

The pitch was way too high.

Was he hoping that would mess with my timing for the next one?

Besides, wasn’t the curve here way too obvious?

Two balls, two strikes.

Crack!

I scooped up the dropping curve from near the dirt and sent it to the outfield.

 

┗It’s a towering home run!

┗It smashes into the upper scoreboard of Mokdong Stadium!

┗A grand slam by Song Seongjun! Seongun High takes a 4–0 lead in the fifth!

┗ Holy crap! That’s insane!

┗ Finally, a right-handed power prospect! Do you know how long it’s been?! KEKW

┗ Wasn’t that curve a ball? If he can yank that out and send it over, what’s the pitcher supposed to do? LOL

 

***

 

President Hong Jungil was heading to a meeting when he checked the game results.

The quarterfinal between Seongun High and Gyeongnam Jeil was underway.

Earlier, it had been 0–0.

“7th inning, 10–2?”

Gyeongnam Jeil had won both the Blue Dragon and Golden Lion tournaments this year.

Their trio of senior pitchers… Kang Changsoo, Joo Wonhee, and Choi Sang-woo had a combined ERA of about 2.01.

A fortress mound.

Yet Seongun High was leading by a wide margin.

Checking the details, it became clear why.

Song Seongjun

4 PA, 3 AB, 1 BB, 2 HR (5th inning, 4 runs; 7th inning, 3 runs)

He’d taken seven runs off Kang Chang-soo and Choi Sang-woo with two homers.

Through three Presidents’ Cup games, I had already hit five home runs.

At this rate, I might even set a new post-wood-bat era high school record.

Silent all year…

then the moment the President’s Cup began, my stock skyrocketed day after day.

This year’s No. 1 overall pick had been widely considered weak compared to previous years.

It was good that a worthy candidate had suddenly appeared.

But now…

It wasn’t purely good news.

‘I heard 18 MLB teams sent scouts to Mokdong today alone?’

Too many competitors.

And at the meeting with my parents…

“Why is CEO Lee here?”

Lee Himchan, the CEO of LipCo Korea, was seated there as well.

“We felt it would be better to have a professional handle contract matters, so I came along.”

“President Hong, hello. It’s been a while. I’ll be handling both Song’s MLB and KBO negotiations.”

President Hong’s face briefly twisted as if he’d bitten into a bug.

He recovered quickly.

But inside, he was swearing.

‘What the he-… why… here? Why is LipCo involved?’

 

***

 

“Our player is considering staying in Korea if the terms are satisfactory.”

“We cannot match MLB-level signing bonuses, CEO Lee. You understand that.”

The rumored figure was already 3 million dollars (4.18 billion won).

Nearly ten times the signing bonus of last year’s KBO first-round picks.

And that 3 million wasn’t even the ceiling… rumors said it could climb higher.

Realistically, the KBO couldn’t match that.

“Of course. If we were asking you to match MLB-level signing bonuses from the start, we wouldn’t even be here. We’d just be negotiating with the MLB clubs instead. Hahaha.”