67. Okinawa Spring Camp: Tigers on the Rise
In Okinawa spring camp, I shook hands with Manager Kim Ki-taek. He'd come from Seoul Twins to take the helm of the Gwangju Tigers. Like me, he'd taken over a new team last year. But our paths had been similar. I'd turned a second-place squad into unified champions, while he'd dragged a last-place ninth into sixth. I'd kept a close eye on the Gwangju Tigers last season too. They didn't have any star hitters to speak of, but their pitchers had stood out with real promise. Several had given our batters fits—Yang Jong-hyun in the rotation, Choi Hyeok-pil in the pen, and Yoon Sung-min, fresh off MLB, closing games.
Manager Kim Ki-taek was rebuilding smartly; they had the juice to become contenders. Above all, they were the team with the most Korea Series titles ever—no ignoring that pedigree. I'd been a Gwangju Tigers fan back when I tagged along with my dad to games, so I'd always kept a soft spot for them. Playing ball had pulled my focus elsewhere, naturally drifting me away.
"Looking forward to it, huh? Wonder how last year's champs hold up this year."
"I'll learn a thing or two."
"Learn a thing or two... You're too humble for a young manager."
He chuckled at my words. But I figured he knew a bit about our roster bleed too. He gave my shoulder a pat as he passed. Our talent drain was no secret.
The Tigers started Hector, their new import ace. Stocky build, looked solid. His status window read current ability at 63, potential at 68—nearly maxed out. Peak form, basically. Maybe even past it, but at just thirty, probably not. Tigers had snagged a good one.
We went with Shin Young-jae up top. He'd impressed in camp as a starter. Both sides held scoreless through three. Shin Young-jae was steady, keeping them off the board. Hector was quirkier—not blazing fast in the mid-140s km/h range, but pinpoint control made him tough. No strikeout machine, no groundball wizard, yet our guys just couldn't square him up.
I asked Kim Kang-jun after he popped out to right. "Movement's nasty," he said. "Four-seamer curves in weird. I'll get it next time." Novel feel threw him off.
But they pulled Hector after three. We swapped in Coelho; they brought Yang Jong-hyun. Not a velocity guy either, but famous for command and ice-cold mentality. No glaring strengths, no weaknesses—a rare breed.
Coelho imploded in the fourth, spotting them three. Kim Kang-jun answered with a two-run bomb off Yang Jong-hyun, clawing us back.
We sent up Lee Yang-hoon in the fifth, but he got shelled; we yanked him for Jeon Sang-hyeok to douse the fire. I'd underestimated their bats—they hit harder than expected. No-joke resurgence from No Kwang-su, reborn in Gwangju. Latent talent blooming with speed and contact. Seo Dong-hoon, snagged via waiver trade, crushed a homer off Lee Yang-hoon like a statement. Lee Byung-ho and Kim Ju-cheon slashed too.
What really impressed was their D. Kim Ho-young and Kang Chan-ul, meh hitters, flashed the leather. Kim Ho-young in center? Absurd plays twice in the sixth, killing rallies. Bat's lagging—no hits yet—but if it clicks, monster potential.
Tigers looked tough, but post-sixth with Yang Jong-hyun down, their pen crumbled faster than expected. Not as deep as I'd thought. Our hitters, who'd struggled against Hector and Yang, teed off on the relievers.
Then in the eighth, up came Yoon Sung-min, last year's Tigers closer. Intrigued, I checked his status window.
Name: Yoon Sung-min
Age: 31
Position: Right-handed Overhand, Starter/Closer
Optimal Position: Closer
Stamina: 70 / 100
Current / Potential Ability: 51 / 88
Detailed stats private (opposing team).
Growth Potential: Stats will continue declining due to shoulder injury.
Mental: Burden of pitching through shoulder discomfort.
Notes: Private.
Something felt off. Thirty-one years old, potential 88, but current at a measly 51? Injury fallout, no doubt. I'd seen high currents tank from ailments before. Heard he'd flamed out in MLB from it—tragic. Shoulder screaming, yet he hid it, hurling with serene poise. Without the status window, you'd never guess.
Treatment's priority for him now, but I couldn't meddle in another team's business. Pity, but not my call.
Yoon blanked us in the eighth. Final: 7-6 loss. Couldn't erase the early hole. First skid since Lions scrimmage; we'd steamrolled everyone else.
Still, silver lining: pinpointed a dev area. Our hitters don't flail against heat or nasty stuff—they get owned by bland command guys. Hector and Yang Jong-hyun epitomized it. In a real game, our grit might've worn 'em down with foul city, forcing early hooks. But sans Kim Kang-jun, we barely connected through three apiece.
Plenty of reg season to tweak via exhibitions. Camp netted huge gains: bats, gloves, baserunning up across the board. Nailed a rotation anchor in Shin Young-jae—durable enough for 4/5. Rest? Rotate Ha Min-young, Choi Tae-won, Choi Sang-young. They'll bridge to six innings.
Pen studs: Shin Ha-jin, Hwang Do-gyun, Min Jeong-gil, Lee Bo-gyun, Kim Hyeok-tae, Kim Hyun-se. Defending champs won't embarrass. Push hard, better results await.
Camp wrapped clean; back to Korea. Two months' grind earned rest to shed fatigue. Exhibitions? We blew up again—"comeback kids."
Locked rotation through four; fifth rotates those three. Start the hot hand, yank if shaky. Told 'em straight—burdened 'em a tad, but sparked rivalry. Solid strat.
My third season as Heroes skipper, 2016. Effort primed for payoff.