Homecoming Heroes and the Ace Awaits
While Seo Tae-woong was lost in his happy daydreams, Rohis's count had somehow reached three balls and one strike—a batter's dream count.
He's letting guys on base back-to-back... looks like his mental game's cracking.
Crack!
"The ball's flying deep! Oh! It threads the left-center gap!"
A deep liner punched through left-center. The ball buried itself deep in the fence, letting Rohis slide into third. And with that, both runners from first and second scored easily.
Lucky we faced him in the intrasquads. If this was a real matchup now, no way I'd get him out.
Back in first camp, Rohis had slumped unexpectedly—maybe from bulking up all winter messing with his swing balance. He'd wrapped the three intrasquad games with just a single and a walk amid a parade of strikeouts.
But second camp? Total 180. In eight scrimmages, he hit .450. Three homers, four doubles, a triple. Plus eight walks—one per game. He was crushing everything for extra bases, a monster performance.
Kim Jin-woong had been agonizing over the lack of speed and on-base skills at the top of the order. But after those scrimmages, he locked in Jeong-hyun and Rohis as table-setters.
And that choice was paying off big time.
Tae-woong grinned ear-to-ear, nodding like he was the manager himself.
Strong table-setters? Hell yeah. Follow the trends quick—that's the way to do it.
A few years before Tae-woong headed to America, MLB had jumped on the bandwagon of power-hitting leadoff and two-hole guys.
MLB's sabermetrics crunching was light-years ahead of KBO's. Five years back, table-setters prioritized average and steals. Now? Data showed the most efficient play was stacking your highest OPS guys up top—on-base plus slugging. Every team shifted that way.
By the 2030s in Korea, it was standard too—but that wouldn't hit for years yet.
Thwack!
"Strrrikeout!"
The next batter, Hwang Jae-gun, lofted a deep fly to center. The fielder snagged it and fired home...
Whoosh!
But the throw died short of the mound, rolling slowly on the grass. Rohis trotted home leisurely for another run.
"Woooaaah!"
With few innings left and the gap widening on the Dinos, the players sensed victory and roared.
As the ninth loomed, the Wiz dugout burned hotter than ever.
[Wiz Crush Dinos in Exhibition Rout]
[Rookie Seo Tae-woong! 3 Shutout Innings! Joining the 2018 Rookie of the Year Race?]
[Kang Baek-ho's Back-to-Back Homer Frame! Rookies Powering Hitters and Pitchers to 9-3 Win!]
[Wiz Topped Spring Exhibitions in 2017 Too—But Finished Last in Regular Season. Different This Time?]
[First Team to Lock in All Five Starters Among 10 Clubs]
[Wrapping Spring Training, Heading Home Today]
[New Rookie of the Year Contender Emerges?]
[Seo Tae-woong, Spring Camp Pitching MVP—Interview]
[199cm, 99kg—Four-Seam Topping 125km/h!]
[Secrets to His Delivery?]
["Velocity's Low, But Confident in Rookie Race."]
["Season Goals: Survive in the First Team and Win Rookie of the Year."]
["Studying English Steadily—I've Always Been Interested."]
["Grateful to Fans Cheering Us On. Will Always Prioritize Fan Service."]
As Tae-woong's name bobbed at the tail end of the green search rankings, the AT Wiz squad boarded their flight home after wrapping exhibitions.
The AT Wiz squad returned without major injuries, riding high from camp success. A light heart carried them home.
Over a month in America for spring training—short in retrospect, yet long enough. Everyone had given their all: starters chasing better stats or bigger paydays, bench guys fighting for first-team spots.
"Urghhh."
"I want kimchi stew."
"Urrrghhhh."
"Coach Ahn... baseball... I wanna play... ughhh."
Tae-woong and Kang Baek-ho, who'd trained till the final buzzer, passed out the second they hit their plane seats. The flight crossed the Pacific while they slept, touching down in Korea.
March 10, 2018. Saturday. Incheon Airport buzzed with reporters and fans welcoming the Wiz.
As a rookie, Tae-woong trailed the coaches and vets out the gate with Baek-ho.
Click! Click! Click!
"Eeeeek!"
Click! Click!
"Kyaaaah!"
"Look here, Jae-gun oppa!"
"Seong-baek oppa, sign this!"
"Hey... isn't Um Seong-baek only four years older than you?"
"Shut up, bitch. Handsome guys are all oppas. Seong-baek oppa, over here! Here!"
"Fairband fighting!"
"Yang-pyo, autograph!"
The vets who'd exited first were mobbed by media and fans. Kim Jin-woong—aka "Coffee Manager" for his instant coffee obsession—sipped a reporter-gifted Starbucks while fielding questions.
"Manager, satisfied with camp?"
"Thoughts on Kang Baek-ho?"
"Do you know kimchi?"
"What? Do you know kimchi? Who said that?"
"Phew... lucky. Looks like no one's paying us any mind. Let's grab our bags quick."
Baek-ho, who'd soaked up rookie spotlight already, sighed in relief at the lack of attention, sticking close to Tae-woong.
"Yeah, whatever. Tired anyway—good timing. Everyone's busy; let's fetch the luggage."
Tae-woong hadn't dreamed of fan love either, so he agreed, skirting the crowd.
Then his eyes met a cluster of fans.
"Isn't that Kang Baek-ho?"
"Tall guy's Seo Tae-woong, right?"
"Whoa, he's huge! Like Napert height!"
"Yeah! Totally!"
"Autographs please!"
"Kang Baek-ho, look over here!"
"No way, Kang Baek-ho and Seo Tae-woong?"
"Dude, Seo Tae-woong's insanely handsome."
"Right? Stands out next to Baek-ho."
Hah, knew it!
Damn! Standing with this guy...
Tae-woong and Baek-ho's ears twitched faintly.
Slide.
Amid the chaos, Baek-ho—having overheard the comparisons—tried peeling away from Tae-woong.
Tae-woong slung an arm around him, yanking him back.
"Yo, where you going? Gotta snap a pic together. Run off now, and they'll roast you."
"Kuh, damn... let go!"
Baek-ho squirmed but failed. They flashed smiles at the cameras.
"Kang Baek-ho, natural smile! Looking stiff."
"Ah, yeah. Haha."
Like the vets, Tae-woong and Baek-ho got swarmed. Quick interviews, autographs—busy times.
After twenty minutes, the earlier vets and coaches started slipping away. Sharp-eyed Tae-woong caught it and addressed the fans.
"Uh... we're the babies, gotta move bags. Gotta head out—sorry!"
"Thank you! We'll work hard, so come to the ballpark!"
"Thanks! Next time for anyone who missed—sorry!"
"Whew, tougher than training."
"Tch, keep smiling through the signs. Fan service basics."
"I know. But I'm beat."
"Sheesh, still a kid."
"My birthday's earlier than yours?"
"......"
Tae-woong gunned the cart past Baek-ho.
"Hey! Where to, Seo Tae-woong! Baek-ho hyung! Say it! Baek-ho hyung!"
They barely made the bus after last-second fan grabs, sorting bags just in time.
Good vibes flowed through the squad, so the vets waved off their tardiness with laughs.
Tae-woong dozed briefly—woke to near Suwon.
"Great work, everyone. Jet lag first—training starts Monday lunch. Head home safe."
With Kim Jin-woong's weekend rest order, the team dispersed.
"Seo Tae-woong, manager's office quick."
"Yes, Manager!"
Tae-woong, mid-farewells and heading home, got called back.
"Manager, you wanted me?"
"Yeah. Confident?"
"Huh? What's that suddenly...?"
"Haven't seen? No interview articles?"
"Ah, sorry. Conked out on the bus."
"You're starting the first exhibition."
"Pardon?"
"Decided right before my interview. Tuesday vs. Lions—you're on."
Tae-woong clenched a fist without thinking.
Kim grinned, clapping his shoulder.
"This guy's playing coy but hyped, huh? Haha."
"Thank you! I'll give it everything!"
"Sure. Lions' Yang Chan-seop's going five per his manager's interview—so match it, five innings."
"Got it! Will grind hard!"
"Yeah, no overdoing it. Rest till tomorrow, see you Monday. No trouble!"
"Yes, sir! No issues on my watch!"
Manager left first. Tae-woong bounded out.
Yes! Nailed it! Got the shot!
He wanted to leap for joy.
Means they're counting on me some... Do decent, and first-team doors stay open!
His thrill had reason: matchup with Lions' Yang Chan-seop.
Future ace, huh... Not bad.
Tae-woong steeled himself, gazing at the starry sky.
If falling stars were his past self, now he'd shine steady up there.
Pre-regression 2030s: Over 15 million fans per season flocked to KBO games. That boom kicked off in 2018.
Future lore called 2018 the gateway to KBO's golden age—first breach of 10 million, surging to 15.
Fan surges need competition, not dynasties. With 10 teams, one- or two-team domination killed buzz. Tight races from wire-to-wire hooked crowds.
2018 delivered: comet rookies rivaling Ryu Han-jin, who'd burst on Daegu Eagles in '06 before Dodgers stardom.
Daegu Lions P Yang Chan-seop. Busan Giants P Yoon Sun-bin and 3B Han Do-hee. Seoul Bears' Kang Bin. AT Wiz LF Kang Baek-ho. Daejeon Eagles P Park Jun-hong.
They became aces, cleanup hitters, elite closers.
Baek-ho snagged Rookie of the Year, powered Wiz to playoffs, then MLB.
Yang Chan-seop went undefeated internationally, national ace.
Kang Bin followed Kim Dong-ju as "Boss Bear," Bears ace.
Park Jun-ho extended Daeseong's no-loss streak—"Junhong Invincible"—NPB detour, then 200 MLB saves.
Yoon Sun-bin and Han Do-hee, by 2022 post Lee Dae-hyun retirement, aced 1-hole and cleanup to end Giants' 30-year drought.
Their group nick? KBO's Fantastic Six, Eagle Six Brothers? Ugh, so corny. Still cringey naming sense.
Tae-woong had rubbed shoulders as high school prospects.
But while he floundered through slumps and injuries, their stars soared 180 degrees.
As he choked down stale bread with peanut jam in the minors...
They were franchise faces.
Jealous? Salary, obviously...
By 25, they cleared 500 million won salaries; FA deals topped 10 billion base.
10 billion... Hell, 100 million and I'd kowtow.
Debut monsters, they still starred in MLB/KBO through 2034—pre-regression.
"You guys hogged it all? My turn now!"