The Prodigy Who Rejected the Major League Chapter 19

Episode 19

 

◆ ‘High School’s Top Prospect’ Song Seongjun Still Weighing U.S. Move Until the Final Hour of KBO Draft Application

 

With the application deadline for the KBO rookie draft set for midnight on the 16th, all eyes are on whether ‘high school’s top prospect’ Song Seongjun (18, Seongun High) will submit his name.

Among this year’s high school Top 3 prospects, Moon Seungchan (18, Jeongchun High — Texas, $2 million) and Yoo Hyundo (18, Gyeonggi Jeil High — Houston, $1.3 million) have already decided to head straight to the United States. Only Seong Jinseong (Jeongseong Aviation High) has expressed a desire to remain in Korea.

Song Seongjun had been evaluated as a catcher prospect worthy of a first-round selection, but compared to the three players mentioned above, he had received relatively less attention.

However, at the recent President’s Cup, he threw 160 km/h, launched seven home runs with raw power, and showcased center field defense capable of covering tremendous ground. With that performance, he rapidly rose to become the top high school prospect.

At 185 cm and 88 kg, he possesses a solid, athletic build. A hospital examination even reported that his growth plates have not yet closed.

After signing a representation agreement with RIPS Korea Agency this past July, every possibility remains open… a direct jump to the U.S. or staying in Korea.

Rumors have circulated about both options, but he has yet to make a final decision.

Song Seongjun’s father, Song Jaehun, stated, “We are reviewing offers from both Korea and the United States. Since this concerns my son’s baseball career, our entire family is deliberating carefully. I expect we will decide by the application deadline.”

Seongun High head coach Bae Seonggon also commented, “Seongjun told me both sides have made appealing offers, so he is thinking it over. I have not heard that he has made up his mind yet.”

The rumored signing bonus alone has reached $4 million, nearly double the previous record for a Korean prospect (Kim Byunghyun’s $2.25 million). Given the unprecedented figure, few around him are actively discouraging a move to the United States.

A Major League scout shared his view: “In recent international signings, position players… specifically those who can play the center line, have been trending upward. Pitchers, comparatively, are rated lower than hitters. For talk of a $4 million-plus bonus to surface, it means they see Song Seongjun as a top-tier position player, or close to it. Of course, they likely recognize his pitching potential as well. But it is difficult to sustain a true two-way role in professional baseball. Even in Major League Baseball, there is a shortage of quality center fielders.”

Whether Song Seongjun has applied for the KBO draft can be confirmed starting at 9 a.m. on the 17th.

 

***

 

“He’s still undecided until the very end?”

Seunghye said as she looked at the article online.

“If we go to the stadium tomorrow, it’s going to be chaos, right?”

Tomorrow was the Round of 32 game against Cheongtap High.

Since the national team assembly begins in a few days, I have decided to stay with the team only through tomorrow.

“I wonder? Will it really be that chaotic?”

I tilted my head and shrugged.

As a rookie, I had never really received much attention.

When I first left for the United States, I was practically treated as if I did not exist. Even during my minor league years, aside from a handful of reporters, there was little interest.

The full force of media attention did not arrive until after I was promoted to the Major Leagues.

From then on, whenever I returned to Korea during the offseason, there would be press conferences waiting for me at the airport.

Compared to that, I was certainly receiving more attention now.

But look at this moment. No one even knows who I am.

“No way.”

Right now, Seunghye and I were sitting in a café with a cozy atmosphere. We had chosen a secluded corner table, leisurely enjoying iced Americanos on what felt like a carefree date.

Of course, the hardcore fans who followed amateur baseball closely were probably very interested.

“You want it to be chaotic?”

I asked, crunching the last cube of ice in my cup.

“If it gets crazy, it will be hard for us to date like this, just the two of us.”

“That would be a problem.”

At my words, Seunghye furrowed her brow.

“But you are going to become famous. What do we do then?”

A small laugh escaped me.

You are going to become famous, she said.

Had she believed in me like that from the beginning?

I did not even know.

“Isn’t that a bit too certain? What if I fail?”

“Do not talk about failure before you even start. Scratch your head. Now. Hurry.”

At my single remark, Seunghye scolded me, saying it would jinx things, urging me to scratch my head immediately.

Scratch my head?

It was one of my mother’s favorite superstitions.

Whenever someone said something unlucky, you had to scratch your head quickly to ward off misfortune.

As a kid, I believed it wholeheartedly and scratched often. After I grew older, I stopped.

And yet here I was, doing it again because of Seunghye. Did she learn that from my mother?

“Do not say things like that again.”

When Seunghye glared at me intensely, I told her okay.

Strangely, being scolded like this did not feel bad. It felt… nice. It meant she cared about me that much.

“When I get famous?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let us just date publicly. That way, there will not be any problems, right?”

Usually, problems arise when you try to hide things.

“Go public?”

“Yeah. Is there a problem?”

“Aren’t we already public right now?”

Oh? Ah. Right.

“I never intentionally hid it.”

Seunghye frowned and stared at me.

“Wait. Have you been telling people you do not have a girlfriend?”

What?

How did the fire jump over there all of a sudden?

No. Absolutely not. Never.

“As if I would.”

Indeed, I had never gone out of my way to introduce her formally to acquaintances.

But I had never intended to hide her either.

If I had, would I have sent heart signs on the field and openly acknowledged her in the stands?

“Right?”

Seunghye nodded.

Exactly.

There was never a deliberate plan to conceal anything.

So perhaps it would be fine to continue as we are.

Though perhaps quitting social media from now on would not be a bad idea.

“Social media?”

“Yeah.”

“You do not even use social media.”

Huh? Me? Is that so?

“You never post on Byulstar.”

Oh? So you checked?

“I have to make sure no one is flirting with my boyfriend.”

At her resolute expression, I could only smile.

“But it seemed like you do not even log in. So I figured it was fine.”

Before my regression, I barely kept up with the people around me. When would I have had time to scroll through that?

“But are you sure you will not regret it? Staying in Korea, I mean.”

“No. I will not regret it. Absolutely.”

I had been Rookie of the Year in Major League Baseball. I had been the league MVP. I had two World Series championship rings.

Only after all that did I finally realize…

Without family to celebrate with you, it means nothing.

“You should not use the word ‘absolutely’ lightly.”

“I know. I do. But this time, absolutely is right.”

“Seriously. You are not even going to the U.S., and you still put Director Hong through all that stress?”

“If I can get better terms, why not? There is no reason to cling to staying in Korea at any cost.”

Last night, I met with my parents, Agency CEO Lee from RIPS, and Director Hong.

 

***

 

“Fifteen billion won as the signing bonus. The highest rookie signing bonus in history.”

Director Hong was correct. The previous highest had been ten billion won. No one had come close to that figure for years.

But I did not consider it a particularly large amount.

Though it had not leaked publicly, one Major League club had reportedly offered up to five million dollars… roughly seventy billion won.

Agency CEO Lee had told me that such an offer was indeed on the table.

I was giving up that massive sum to remain in Korea.

If I had gone directly to the United States, I would have had to start from the minor leagues.

Surviving there… competing against prospects from all over the world, is anything but easy.

That is true. I experienced it firsthand. I know better than anyone.

Major League organizations throw all their prospects into the minor league jungle and pick out only those who survive.

In short, it is every man for himself.

However, even in Major League Baseball, not everyone begins at the same starting line.

There is inequality there as well.

I witnessed up close how organizations treat high-bonus ‘bonus babies’ with extraordinary care.

The treatment is entirely different.

And yet I survived in that unfair minor league system.

Even after reaching the Major Leagues, the competition did not end. It continued. And I survived there, too.

I ended my Major League career while the crowd was still applauding.

I do not look down on the KBO.

But it would not be harder than the minor leagues.

“Player Song requested that certain conditions be explicitly written into the contract. We will include them as requested.”

 

The number of conditions I asked for was not large.

★ I will never be a starting pitcher. (I failed to recover from a major injury suffered while starting.)

★ I want to focus on being a hitter. (I played fifteen years in MLB, and even in my final season, received a twenty-million-dollar contract offer.)

★ Fix my defensive position as an outfielder. (Center field was my main position in MLB. I have not caught in over twenty years.)

★ Do not alter my batting or pitching form. (They are the optimal forms I refined over decades of experience.)

 

That was about it.

I also built in a bit of flexibility.

Roughly at the level I handled in MLB.

“You mean occasional bullpen appearances would be possible?”

There are games where you are either winning big or losing big and need someone to eat innings.

Why waste a regular pitcher in those situations?

Use me.

“Using a slaughtering knife to kill a chicken. Haha.”

Though he agreed to my conditions, Director Hong still seemed somewhat regretful.

“As long as it is within an innings limit, I am fine pitching in tough situations.”

If I were going to pitch occasionally anyway, I might as well take it a step further.

The contract would include an innings limit.

In MLB, I had been a double stopper. I had closed games.

“So we will consider that as undergoing a pitcher evaluation test as well.”

“That is fine.”

Director Hong asked whether this was a rookie contract negotiation.

But he could not say no.

Last year, after finishing dead last for the first time in franchise history, the chairman’s fury had swept everyone away.

Everyone.

That is how he became director.

This year’s rookie draft had already been criticized because two top-tier prospects chose to go to the United States.

Then suddenly, a generational prospect appeared.

And that prospect did not insist on going to America unconditionally. He said he would consider staying if the terms were right.

And thanks to last year’s last-place disaster…

The team now had the chance to draft that generational talent.

Fail at the very first step?

The risk would be enormous.

If negotiations collapsed and Song Seongjun boarded a plane for the United States, word would inevitably leak.

People would not care about the fine details of the contract.

They would fixate on one number.

Seventy billion won.

“Song Seongjun turned down 70 billion won from MLB to sign for only 15 billion won in Korea, and the deal fell through because of the club!!!”

“Why??? How terrible must the terms have been to make the deal collapse?!”

…That is how it would go.

So he chose to look at it positively.

In modern baseball, being a true two-way player is extremely difficult.

At some point, you must choose.

Even now, Ohtani remains the only one who has truly done both at the top level.

And even Ohtani was only a pitcher and designated hitter. He did not play defense.

Moreover, there is no Ohtani Rule in Korean baseball.

And although Song Seongjun stated he would focus on hitting and outfield play, he still agreed to pitch within an innings limit.

“Alright. That alone should be good enough.”

Had the team not finished dead last last year, he would never have become director.

He would never even have had the opportunity to discuss signing at this draft position.

But that last-place finish…

Last year’s battle to avoid the cellar had been historic.

The decision was not made until the final game of the season.

 

8th place — Gocheok Villains: 58 wins, 6 draws, 80 losses (.420)

9th place — Daejeon Hawks: 58 wins, 3 draws, 83 losses (.411)

10th place — Daegu BaySuns: 58 wins, 2 draws, 84 losses (.408)

 

Who could have imagined that last place would be determined by a mere .003 difference in winning percentage?

After that, a few more minor details were discussed.

The broad framework was finalized.

Of course, it was not yet an official contract.

It was a verbal agreement.

But the meeting included the player’s representative from the agency.

Unless Director Hong did something insane… like failing to select Song Seongjun in the first round of the rookie draft, the deal would not fall apart.