Yogurt's Bitter Victory
While calling Seo Tae-woong and glancing around, Lee Ha-yan soon spotted a hulking figure about two meters tall that made the wooden chair beneath him look comically small. She hung up and approached his table.
"You're Seo Tae-woong, right? Good to see you again. Did you get a good rest last night?"
"Yes, that's me, announcer Lee Ha-yan. Nice to see you too."
"Hoho, I'm glad too, Seo Tae-woong. You must still be tired, but thank you for doing the interview. I was a bit late, wasn't I?"
"Oh! No, not at all. I just came out of my room myself."
"You look great up close—your skin is amazing. That's rare for a baseball player."
"No, haha. You're too kind. Thank you."
"Shall we order coffee and jump right into the interview?"
"Sure, sounds good."
"Get something expensive. This is the broadcast company's corporate card. What'll it be?"
Lee Ha-yan handed Tae-woong the menu first and immediately started scanning her own.
"Uh, I'll have..."
Expensive stuff. What's the priciest and tastiest? I love mix coffee the most... Nah, play it safe with Americano.
Just as Tae-woong settled on his choice in his mind and opened his mouth, Ace's sabotage whispered into his ear.
"Yes, then I'll have an iced Americano."
"Pardon? Oh, iced Americano, got it. Your answers in yesterday's interview were fun too—you've got great sense."
"Oh, yeah. Haha, sorry. This is my first one-on-one interview, so I guess I got a little nervous."
"No worries—it's fun. I'll go place the order."
"Thanks."
After some light pleasantries, they dove into the interview. Thoughts on his successful debut, season goals, team atmosphere, closest teammates, favorite foods and hobbies. How things were with his fellow rookie Kang Baek-ho, the only classmate in the first team...
Tae-woong hesitated at first, but soon channeled his mid-30s savvy, answering with a grin. His witty, 20-something charm—far from rote, boring responses—made the interview stretch longer than expected. By the time it wound down, lunchtime was approaching.
"Seo Tae-woong, thanks so much today. You didn't seem nervous at all for a rookie, and your answers were hilarious."
"Oh, thank you! I had fun too."
"The article should go up before tonight's game—pre-game posts get the most views."
"Got it."
"And Seo Tae-woong... um..."
"Yeah, Ha-yan? Go ahead."
Just as Lee Ha-yan hesitated, unbelievable words rang in Tae-woong's ears.
"If you're free today, want to grab lunch together?"
"Pardon? Me? Lunch, lunch with you?"
Ace, lounging at the next table with legs crossed and a bored expression, perked up his ears during their interview.
"Yeah, the interview went great, and you made time on a rest day, so as a thank-you... Of course, corporate card."
"Yes! Sounds great. Let's go! I'm honored—!"
Just as Tae-woong eagerly accepted the irresistible offer, his phone buzzed on the table.
Vrrr.
Vrrr, vrrr.
Who the hell interrupts at a moment like this...? Scammers are dead meat.
Vrrrr.
The vibrations persisted.
"Sorry, someone's spamming KakaoTalk at the worst time. Give me a sec to check..."
"No problem, go ahead."
Vrrrrrr.
New KakaoTalk messages kept popping up with the vibrations.
Gah... Why now, Manager Kim Jin-woong?! Why this bad timing with something urgent...!
Lunch alone with his ideal type, announcer Lee Ha-yan. Versus the manager's summons. For a fresh rookie, it was brutally unfair—but the choice was obvious from the start.
"Sorry, the manager just called me up. I really wanted to go with you, Ha-yan..."
"Oh, okay. Can't be helped. Lunch next time when you're free."
"Yeah, sorry."
"It's fine, really. See you."
Parting regretfully from Lee Ha-yan and the press crew, Tae-woong hurried to Manager Kim Jin-woong's room with a tense expression.
1958... 1959, 1960. Here!
Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Knock knock.
"Manager, it's Seo Tae-woong. You wanted to see me?"
"Yeah, Tae-woong? Coming right up. Hold on."
The casually dressed manager opened the door.
"Good work yesterday. Slept well? You threw a ton—no soreness?"
"Body feels fine. Thanks for worrying. But... what was the urgent thing?"
"Oh, right. Almost forgot—that's why I called. Wait here a sec. Not too busy?"
"No, manager. I was about to be, but thanks to you, I'm free now."
"Huh? What do you mean? What were you up to? Should've said."
"Oh, nothing. Just rambling—lost in thought."
"Alright, be right back. Wait here."
"Yes, sir."
As the manager vanished into the room, Tae-woong's mind raced with possibilities.
What? No booze, so not DUI. I don't even do SNS...
He tensed.
Wait... did my sleepwalking relapse...?
Early 20s, during his minor league slump and injuries, he'd suffered sleepwalking for months. Suspicious.
If not that, then what?
No way he'd screwed up otherwise. But a frantic summons meant something big...
"...So I could cut you too and keep just the system?"
Ignoring Ace's nonsense, Tae-woong waited by the door.
No way they send me to second team after yesterday's gem, right?
Deep in thought, he saw the manager return from the room—arms loaded with yogurt.
Huh? Wait, loaded? Yogurt? Sudden yogurt?
No way the urgent thing is yogurt. Has to be something else. Please.
This is a dream. Wake up, Seo Tae-woong! Lunch with Ha-yan!
Ace was spot-on, and sadly, Tae-woong's hopes were dashed.
"Here! Take 'em. Whew, heavy load."
The manager handed over the pile of yogurt. Tae-woong took them silently, then asked.
"Manager... this was the important urgent matter...?"
"Yeah, called you for yogurt. Super tasty—special for you only. Others got zilch. Got it?"
"Uh... thanks."
"Don't tell Baek-ho. Eat 'em all yourself. Reward for yesterday. Understand?"
"Yes, sir. But... is this really it? Nothing else important?"
Tae-woong's pleading eyes were gloriously misinterpreted.
"What, not enough? This is all I got—pitch well next game, more coming. Haha!"
Tears welled in Tae-woong's eyes and dropped.
A man's hot tears. And prime entertainment for Ace watching.
"Th... thank you, manager. Really... sniff... why am I tearing up..."
"Hey! Big bear like you crying over this? Something wrong? Too touched?"
"Yeah, touched... but yogurt... hic... so grateful... I'll savor every bottle, chew 'em good..."
"Chew yogurt? You okay? Why the waterworks? Tae-woong, you good? Bipolar? Depressed? Want mental coach?"
As the manager pulled out his phone to call the mental coach, Tae-woong stopped him.
"No, I'm fine. Just remembered a sad story. Nothing... Thanks for the yogurt. Rest up."
"Alright, go on. See you later."
Sniff. "Yes, sir. Later."
Back in his room, arms full of yogurt, Tae-woong unleashed fury like Cha In-pyo's angry brushing—yogurt guzzling.
Gulp gulp gulp.
"Damn... this yogurt's too good even now."
"Shut up. Junk food with Ha-yan would've tasted better than good yogurt."
"Uwaaaah! My lunch! Give it back! I wanna go back!"
"Shut up! Fine, I'll pitch my ass off for another interview!"
Monday—no game, sole rest day. Tae-woong's ended with yogurt.
Stashing the rest, he swapped ideal-type lunch for camaraderie with seniors, then headed from Gwangju to Incheon for the three-game road series against the Wyverns.
His sorrow lingered on the team bus, red eyes fixed on the sky.
Kang Baek-ho, watching, teased.
"Yo, Seo Tae-woong. Eyes red? You cry?"
Tae-woong, staring blankly out the window, responded to the jab.
"...Ever wonder how long choking takes? Suddenly curious. And your neck's right here."
"...Sorry. No more teasing. I'll sit still, silent, to Incheon."
"Good, Baek-ho. Quiet if you like breathing."
"Yes, Tae-woong nim."
Conversation over, Baek-ho froze like his life depended on it—no twitch, no sound. He survived to the Incheon road hotel.