Drafted by the Turkeys
"Hey, Hu-seong! Congrats, man!"
"You're actually a pro baseball player now!"
The voices of my friends hit my ears as they rushed over with shocked expressions. I gave an awkward smile, still dazed, and asked them back.
"This... this make any sense? The Turkeys picked me?"
"They picked you, so you should be happy, you idiot."
Lee Su-creang looked at me and said.
"Turkeys? The Turkeys..."
The Gocheok Turkeys were running second place this season—a powerhouse team. Plus, with their home base in Seoul's Gocheok, it was the perfect setup for a guy like me living in the city to kick off his pro career.
"Su-creang, what about you?"
"Daegu Eagles nabbed me in the eighth round. I'll be living in Daegu now. I told you, there's not much difference between you and me!"
"Not much my ass..."
As Su-creang and I chatted, the underclassmen swarmed around us, clapping and offering congratulations.
"Congrats, seniors!"
"This is insane! Pro players for real!"
What... what the hell is happening?
I scratched my head sheepishly and mumbled a quiet thanks. It felt awkward with everyone celebrating like this, but damn, it felt good too. Still, a nagging unease lingered in the back of my mind—I just couldn't wrap my head around it.
"Thanks, guys. But I still feel kinda out of it."
"I wanna feel that kinda daze too."
"Me three!"
"You've been busting your ass in training, senior—that must've paid off, right?"
"All those highlight plays against Suseok High? That's gotta be it."
The underclassmen chimed in with their theories.
Well... I guess against Suseok High, I didn't screw up once. Maybe that's it? And then I vaguely remembered that scout flashing through my mind. Or was it that time? Did that scout see something in me? Yeah, probably.
I trudged home in a bit of a fog and pushed open the front door.
Beep beep beep—click!
The cheerful chime rang out as the door unlocked.
"Son? What're you doing home? Isn't it dorm night?"
Dad, lounging on the living room sofa watching TV, glanced over. Mom was bustling around in the kitchen prepping dinner.
"Huh?"
The tension drained out of me at Dad's words, leaving me a little deflated, but I opened my mouth anyway.
"Mom, Dad."
"What is it, Hu-seong?"
Dad's straightforward voice came back.
"..."
No way—they don't know? For real?
Whoa...
"You... you guys haven't heard?"
"Heard what?"
"I've got somewhere to go now."
My parents' reactions when they first heard weren't what I'd expected at all. Dad stared at me blankly, remote in hand. Mom paused halfway out of the kitchen, tilting her head.
"Somewhere to go?"
"Oh! Did a college finally call you up?"
"Good for you, son!"
...Ah! Mom and Dad are both so damn practical. Of course they are—that's normal. Hell, I was the same way.
"Ahem. I got drafted. So... no college for me."
"Huh...?"
"What? You mean you're going pro?"
Dad froze, and Mom looked half-doubting.
"Yeah, for real. The Turkeys picked me. I'm a pro player now."
I pulled out my phone and showed them the draft list.
Gocheok Turkeys 11th round: Botong High Kim Hu-seong.
They still looked stunned. After a beat of silence, Dad set down the remote, stood up, and burst out laughing.
"Wha—wha—whoa! Yeah! Good job! Son? You're really a pro baseball player now? Awesome!"
His face lit up as it finally sank in. Mom snapped out of it too, beaming as she hurried over.
"Aigoo, oh my god! My boy's actually a pro!"
She patted my shoulder, finally congratulating me properly. But a tiny pang of hurt lingered from their initial reaction. Family's supposed to check just in case, right? Whatever.
"Man... I figured you'd have heard at home for sure..."
Mom caught my expression and looked sheepish.
"Sorry. We never thought you'd go pro... But hey, it worked out—huge relief!"
Dad raised his voice then.
"Turkeys, right? They're good with rookies—develop 'em well, give 'em chances. Sounds like you landed in a great spot."
At least Dad knew a bit about baseball, rattling off the team's strengths and quirks. He'd figured I wouldn't get picked, but whatever—now it was time to look ahead.
"Honey! We gotta get the boy a suit fitted."
"A suit?"
"Yeah! Entry ceremony's next week—he needs to prep now."
"Oh, right! Good timing coming home. Our pro son."
September in Gocheok. The late summer heat hadn't fully faded, but inside the dome stadium, it was cool and pristine. Dressed awkwardly in my suit, I shuffled in with the other ten rookies toward the Gocheok dome.
The moment we stepped into the stadium for the 2 p.m. entry ceremony, it finally hit me: I'm a pro baseball player.
Ugh... uncomfortable. The suit was stiff, the tie foreign. It felt like it was choking me, but weirdly, I was in a good mood.
"Whoa... this is the place we see on TV."
"Didn't realize there were that many lights up top..."
"It's huge..."
The rookies gawked around in awe. The endless domed ceiling above, the pristine turf, the dazzling light towers, the imposing dugouts—everything looked perfect to our newbie eyes.
The ceremony flew by. Club officials took the mic for welcomes, and Gocheok Turkeys' first-team manager Kim Young-ho gave a short speech.
"Congrats on signing. But know your place. You're pros now, starting from square one today. You're all the team's future, so I value you... but don't forget—the competition's already on."
"Got it!"
After that loaded speech, we snapped group photos, posed in our uniforms, and took family pics galore.
"Whenever you get time, take a lap around the field. You'll be running it soon enough."
The manager said that after the photos. We rookies, still suited up, headed down to the grass.
Whoa... the turf was softer and damper than expected, the dirt meticulously groomed.
"This... is a pro field."
"Totally different."
Someone muttered, and I could only nod. Solid facilities. Pro level for sure. Stepping on this field felt... surreal.
After the event, I joined my family in the table seats. The Turkeys had a home game today, and we'd scored premium spots to watch.
"What do you wanna eat?"
At Mom's question, I jumped up.
"I'll grab it!"
"My boy?"
"Yeah. Won't get many chances to live around here anymore—might as well now."
"Haha, go for it then."
Oh, tons of food. Way more than I thought—chicken, sweet-and-spicy chicken, takoyaki, all looking tasty. What to get? One of everything?
"Uh, two takoyaki please."
That's when it happened.
"Hey? Aren't you a rookie?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"On the house then. Good luck out there."
No way!
"Th-thanks!"
This is why you play. I'm actually happy?
The vendors were sharp. Spotting my rookie suit and build, they comped or discounted everything. Loaded up, I headed back to the table.
Meanwhile, in the dugout, the players eyed the table seats.
"Ooh... rookies are all over there. Can't wait to see 'em suffer."
"Think they know what they're in for?"
"Nah. Team keeps a tight lid on the bullshit."
The Turkeys snickered, watching us.
"How many'll survive?"
"Eh? If 2-3 make it past a year, that's a win."
"Scary stuff."
"Right? Another 11 coming in."
"Makes me wanna puke."
Then the first-team manager rushed over.
"Guys, heads up—club spent big on the rookie ceremony today."
The players' faces hardened.
"No way..."
"Yup. Order's out: no fridge drinks today if you can help it. Stick to the water cooler."
After he left, groans rippled through.
"What a fucking joke of an organization."
"We really second place?"
They shook their heads in disgust. Their eyes fell on us rookies, laughing innocently with our families, oblivious.
"Poor bastards."