The Manager's Heavy Choices
Oh Seon-jun had stepped in as the top backup for every infield position, while also showing off his solid hitting. He was finally starting to shine a little.
If he pushed just a bit harder from here, he could even claim a starting spot at one of the team's weak positions.
"With skills like Seon-jun's, his defense is way better than some of the infielders we have in the first team right now. And his bat's above average too, so that's even better."
Scritch, scritch.
Along with Manager Han Young-deok's mutterings, Oh Seon-jun's name was erased from the infielder roster.
Now his gaze settled on Choi Jin-hyung.
Choi Jin-hyung had been leading the team as captain, but he'd struggled early in the season with a mid-.100s batting average, getting sent down to the second team twice. He'd only started showing his true skills about a month ago.
The problem was that the players who'd filled his spot during his absence had performed so well that the team couldn't demote them now. Even after his return to the first team, starting lineup spots were hard to come by for him.
As a result, Choi Jin-hyung mostly came in as a late-game sub or pinch hitter.
On top of that, if he reached the required plate appearances this season, free agency awaited him.
"If he goes to the Wiz, he could start in left field or as the DH. He's been training hard in the offseason, lost some weight, gotten lighter on his feet—his speed and defense have improved too..."
When it came to FA eligibility, the Wiz was obviously a better fit for Choi Jin-hyung than the Eagles. He had to rack up those plate appearances somehow.
Scritch, scritch.
This time, Choi Jin-hyung's name vanished from the outfielder list.
With a regretful look, he crossed off both names from the position player roster.
Now only one remained: Park Jun-hong from the bullpen pitchers list.
"And Jun-hong... sigh..."
A heavy sigh escaped Manager Han Young-deok's lips.
His trade to the Wiz was already set in stone. Even though the manager himself had pushed for it without any front office meddling, his hand hesitated.
Seo Tae-woong had been the top overall pick by the Wiz.
Park Jun-hong had shown satisfying skills in high school, but his smaller frame as a pitcher kept him out of the first round—he went second round, 14th overall.
Not quite on Tae-woong's level, but expectations for Park Jun-hong had been high.
And the rapid growth he'd shown since being drafted proved the Eagles' choice right.
Everyone from Manager Han to the coaching staff saw him as the successor to Koo Dae-sung, the KBO's greatest lefty closer ever.
He wasn't quite matching peak Koo Dae-sung as a high school rookie, but in a normal Eagles season, they'd have declared him untouchable for trade.
But the bullpen pitchers—who'd been bottom-feeders until last year—had all started performing like crazy. That was the issue.
A lockdown setup crew and closer with ERAs in the 1s. The rest holding 2s to 3s. Even the chase and long-relief guys keeping it to low 3s to early 4s.
The Eagles' bullpen ERA sat at 2.94. Considering the extreme hitter-friendly parks in the KBO these last few seasons, it was nothing short of miraculous.
With the Bears—the league's number-two bullpen—rocking a 4.56, the Eagles were undisputed first in relief pitching.
'Who would've thought our bullpen catching fire would create this headache? Never saw it coming...'
If losing one reliever would cripple them, they'd never trade Park Jun-hong, the team's present and future.
He paused once more, then finally crossed off Park Jun-hong's name.
'It's a gamble. But Tae-woong's worth it.'
Before becoming manager this season, Han had been a respected pitching coach.
'I see the spark in this kid.'
He trusted his instincts.
Scritch, scritch, scritch.
With the three names gone, Manager Han Young-deok's eyes turned to the starting rotation list.
Starting Rotation Roster
1st Starter: Simpson (RHP, three-quarters)
2nd Starter: Hiller (LHP, three-quarters)
3rd Starter: Kim Jae-yong (RHP, sidearm)
4th Starter: Kim Min-wook (RHP, three-quarters)
5th Starter: Bae Young-seok (RHP, three-quarters)
Simpson, chasing the strikeout title. Hiller, the crafty lefty with solid value.
Kim Jae-yong and Kim Min-wook, young guys in their 20s with ups and downs but holding their own, eating 5-6 innings.
And veteran Bae Young-seok in his late 30s.
'Who can I afford to move...?'
The two foreigners were off-limits, obviously. That left three.
And none dominated good or bad—their stats were neck-and-neck.
'Give the young guys experience, or lean on the vet's savvy? No choice.'
After pondering who to shift to the pen, he nodded—decision made.
Scritch, scritch.
He crossed off Bae Young-seok, whose recent slump stemmed from stamina issues.
And wrote a new name in the blank.
5th Starter: Seo Tae-woong (LHP, three-quarters)
"This is the best call, right?"
He voiced it aloud, but the train had left the station.
From the Eagles' view, snagging a reliable innings-eater starter was worth more than three non-starters right now.
The other spots had backups; starting pitcher? Scoured the first team, second, futures, rehab—not a single option.
Manager Han Young-deok vowed not to look back or second-guess once he left this office.
Sending off longtime favorites hurt, but trades without losses didn't exist in baseball.
In the KBO, first-team rosters change most on Mondays and Tuesdays.
Monday brings the removal list via articles. Tuesday morning, the new additions drop.
Fans flood comments with praise or flak for the club and manager.
What about the players?
No direct word, but they sniff it out. Same-position guys know one'll get called up when another's demoted.
Tae-woong had checked yesterday's article on Wiz removals—no starters listed.
Meaning no need to add one to the first team.
"Sure, two relievers got cut, so one could be me... but nah, don't give up, Tae-woong! You're heading to the first team!"
Ace, watching Tae-woong's happy delusions, crushed them.
"So you're saying my odds of first team today are zero?"
"Guess I wait longer."
But even as training wrapped and lunch neared, no one approached Tae-woong.
Anxiety built as time ticked.
"Ace, why the silence? We gotta roll out by tomorrow latest—unpack, train together, play Thursday?"
Ace pointed at his holographic ear, "bleeding" from annoyance.
"That's just your lazy red filter. Ruining my appetite—fix it."
First time Ace "bled," Tae-woong freaked. Now? Old news, fake.
"Ugh, stressing me out. Time to drown it in food."
First to the cafeteria post-morning training, Tae-woong piled pork ribs sky-high.
"Yeah, you're right!"
Tae-woong yelled, dropped the tongs, headed to the table.
"One tray spills if overloaded—split to two trays."
Tae-woong's food-stress relief was ironclad. He demolished the pork mountain, yanked over tray two.
Mounds vanished fast.
Not chewing—just esophagus express, barely touching tongue.
Hack, hack.
Choking mid-smug explanation of his "secret."
Tae-woong bolted to the water cooler, gulped cold endlessly.
Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp.
"No, urk. Nearly choked for real, urkkk, eep! Gaaah!"
"Burps won't, urk, stop, eep!"
Then his smartphone buzzed wildly on the table.
Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz, bzzz.
Planning to reject once burps eased, Tae-woong glimpsed the caller and accidentally hit accept.
Kim Jin-woong, the manager.
In a Wiz Park meeting room.
Tuesday before a midweek three-game series, a few chatted.
GM Lim led, Manager Kim Jin-woong sipped coffee—point made.
Opposite: PR chief and team tapping laptops.
Laptop clatter faded; PR chief spoke.
"GM, Manager, we'll send the press release as discussed."
"Do it. Soften the wording, PR team."
"Of course. Oh! When for posting?"
Manager Kim Jin-woong replied.
"Haven't told Tae-woong yet. Time left?"
"3-4 hours pre-game best. It's just past noon—2-3 hours."
"Plenty. Call post-meeting. Better he knows before articles drop—less shock."
"Got it, we'll schedule."
"Thanks for today."
Meeting ended, all filed out.
Kim Jin-woong returned to his office, shut door, sat, pulled phone.
Screen blared: Seo Tae-woong.
"Sigh... How to break it gently..."
Five minutes pondering phrasing, then hit call, phone to ear.