Flames (3) [Baseball's Elder Statesman? Creator of Dirty Baseball?]

The aftermath of my press conference rippled through the baseball world. Even the 9 o'clock news revisited the incident, dragging long-buried events back to the surface.

Three managers—among the younger generation in the league—issued statements in support of me. Recent incidents like bench-clearing brawls, headshots from beanballs, and slides targeting infielders' legs had led to unnecessary injuries. Their point was simple: baseball should be played in the spirit of sportsmanship, not unwritten rules.

Just like that, the flames of reform ignited across the baseball world at a rapid pace. And the narrower Kim Geun-seong's position as Eagles manager became with every passing moment. The day after my press conference, during his own interview, he exploded at a reporter asking about instructing beanballs and stormed out—earning widespread condemnation for refusing to acknowledge his mistakes.

But regardless, the 2015 KBO season flowed on differently. By May, with each team having played around 30 games, the standings were already taking shape.

At the top was the Gocheok Heroes, where I served as manager, followed by the Daegu Lions in second. The Lions boasted a rock-solid rotation led by Yoon Seong-han, a sturdy middle relief corps anchored by An Ji-hwan, and Im Chang-yong closing games. Their pitching staff rarely lost.

Third place went to the Changwon Dinosaurs, who had forged a perfect pitching-hitting balance around standout foreigners Hacker and Thames.

Surprisingly, fourth was the Daejeon Eagles. Despite the managerial turmoil, their hot start had some fans defending Kim Geun-seong: "Your manager you're trashing is delivering this kind of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠performance." I'd managed there before, and the team was loaded with talent I'd developed—enough to keep them competitive this year too.

Fifth was the Seoul Bears. Under new manager Kim Tae-young, they'd transformed into a hustle team, with players throwing their bodies around on the bases and in the field to maintain their strong results.

Incheon Wyverns trailed closely behind. At the bottom were the so-called "Triple Ts"—Twins, Tigers, and Giants—lumped together despite their history and fanbases, now a mildly derogatory nickname. Toss in the expansion Suwon Wiz sitting at 10th, and "Triple T Wiz" became "Double T Triple Weaklings," drawing laughs all around. Their fans must have been fuming.

As May rolled in, our team faced its own headaches. Rookies like Kim Kang-jun, Kang Hyun-jun, Kim Seong-ha, and Im Byung-uk—new to the majors—were showing signs of fatigue after nonstop games.

To make matters worse, Seo Geon-cheol ruptured his ACL colliding with Seoul Bears' Go Young-in while running to first after a single. Losing our steady .340 hitter and irreplaceable second baseman who anchored our young bats was a massive blow. Sure, backups Kim Su-ji and Seo Dong-hun were options, but filling his shoes wouldn't be easy.

I called Kim Kang-jun into the manager's office.

"Manager, you wanted to see me?"

"How's your condition lately? Feeling worn out?"

"Haha, I'm good. Guess I'm still young—holding up fine."

Kim Kang-jun put on a brave front, but his stamina gauge read just 71 in my eyes—and that was before the morning game even started.

I'd planned to ask if he'd consider second base, but that idea vanished. On second thought, maybe now was the perfect opportunity.

If he got demoted to the minors, he'd have to wait 10 days to return. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I wanted to send him down, test his second-base skills over 10 games, and let him rest up.

"Kang-jun, don't take this the wrong way. You know Seo Geon-cheol got hurt, right?"

"Yes... I do."

His face hardened as I set the tone.

"I'd like you to step up and cover second for him."

"Me? But I've never..."

His expression darkened further. He'd never played second before, so the pressure was real.

"That's why I'm saying—head to the minors and play 10 games at second. Check your own skills, rest up, and come back stronger."

No player likes hearing "demotion," but Kim Kang-jun broke into a bright smile.

"Got it. I've been thinking I can't be a DH forever anyway."

He got it—knew his weaknesses well enough not to misread my intent.

"Good, glad you see it that way. Go show us another leap forward when you return."

"Yes, Manager!"

He bowed and left the office. Rookie fire? Classic young gun attitude? Seeing that in Kim Kang-jun convinced me the Heroes' crisis wasn't dire yet.

I drew up the roster changes. Pitchers: Pier Band (13 total: Pier Band, Van Hekken, Han Hyun-ho, Lee Ji-seung, Song Young-shin, Choi Tae-won, Jo Sang-hoon, Kim Hyun-se, Son Seung-hyuk, Kim Woo-dae, Kim Hyung-taek, Lee Yang-hoon, Min Jung-gil).

Hitters (14): Park Byung-hyun, Yoo Jun-han, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lee Geun-taek, Kim Sung-min, Yoon Min-seok, Kim Seong-ha, Schneider, Kang Hyun-jun, Park Won-dong, Kim Hyun-jae, Park Do-heon, Kim Su-ji, Seo Dong-hun, Go Jong-hoon.

From pitchers, Ha Min-young was dropped for Choi Tae-won, whose minor-league stats earned the call-up.

Hitters: Seo Geon-cheol, Kim Kang-jun, and Im Byung-yoon out; Park Do-heon, Seo Dong-hun, and Go Jong-hoon up. Im Byung-yoon's batting had dipped to the .200s with fatigue, like Kim Kang-jun—needed rest. Park Do-heon filled in. Go Jong-hoon replaced Kang-jun with solid contact and speed, though weak glove and arm meant DH over outfield.

After sending the roster adds/drops to the operations chief, I dove into lineup planning. Needed someone for Seo Geon-cheol's spot now: Kim Su-ji or Seo Dong-hun. I picked Seo Dong-hun.

He could play anywhere, and uniquely, he was a switch-hitter—the only one in KBO history to go back-to-back homers from both sides in a game (2008 and 2010). Versatile to a fault, never elite anywhere, but a team player who handled the dirty work.

As the broadcaster and commentator noted, today's lineup felt a bit light. I'd given Kim Seong-ha a breather too—his stamina had dipped into the 60s. Only rookie Kang Hyun-jun was out there, and his never fell below 80 unless mid-game; rest restored it quick, thanks to his diligent routine.

Even as manager, micromanaging rest was impossible—I built lineups based on their conditions.

Unlike their worries, I liked this lineup. I'd seen the endless competition, the effort from everyone. The backups would step up, especially against slumping Twins.