The Posting Agreement Drops Early
While KBO Commissioner Jeong Woon-cheol and MLB Commissioner Rob Manfred were digging into premium steaks at a New York restaurant, Korea erupted in reaction despite it being well past 2 a.m. The announcement of revisions to the posting system proved once again that baseball was Korea's most beloved sport, dominating the top five real-time search terms on portals with MLB-KBO contract news.
Tae-woong, exhausted from pitching fatigue and crashing at his dorm, only discovered the internet frenzy when he woke up somewhat late the next morning.
"Posting system revisions...?"
Staring at his smartphone with half-lidded eyes, Tae-woong couldn't hide his shock upon spotting the number one real-time search term. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, dashed to the bathroom for a cold splash on his face, but it was real.
KBO Commissioner Jeong Woon-cheol and MLB Commissioner Rob Manfred, after months of negotiations, announced they've found a fair compromise. They expressed joy and sincere hopes for MLB and KBO to support each other and grow together.
Meanwhile, here are the detailed contract terms released by both sides:
1. Revised MLB-KBO Posting System: Effective immediately, KBO adopts the same posting system as NPB. However, posting fees are capped at a maximum of $15 million.
2. From the 2019 season through 2030, one opening game per season will be held at Jamsil Baseball Stadium in the KBO... (excerpt continued)
"Why announce this now?"
Tae-woong vividly remembered the date of this contract even though it was from over a decade in his future.
'It was exactly the day I made my first Double-A start after getting called up. But there are still years left until then...'
Still, he had no idea why it was happening early.
"The future's changed."
Of course, he couldn't pinpoint the exact reason. Back then, he was just one of countless minor leaguers, with zero interest in MLB-KBO posting tweaks or baseball globalization—nothing to do with him—so the details had faded.
"Well, the revisions coming sooner isn't bad for me..."
Nothing in the announcement seemed to hurt him. Brushing it off as good news, Tae-woong called out to Ace.
"Hey, Ace, check this out. Says after just one season, you can head to the majors now?"
-Ace: Huh? What's that?
Ace, who'd buried his head in a laptop replaying MLB highlights all night, finally turned and approached the bed.
After scanning the article Tae-woong showed him, Ace clicked his tongue.
-Ace: Tsk, what does this have to do with you?
"Huh? What do you mean, nothing to do with me?"
-Ace: What else? Majors and posting are a whole other world for a crap-ball tosser like you. You aren't getting ideas, are you? No scout's losing their mind to want you.
"Sure for me, but if the majors want me, I'd think about it. I'm not tied down with kids or anything. Gotta live doing what I want, right?"
Tae-woong shrugged helplessly. Ace's face screamed, You?
-Ace: Planning to rot in Single-A again? If you miss that mushy peanut butter bread so bad, why fly to the States? Grab some from Paris Baguette right here.
"Ah, yeah, now that you mention it, no thanks."
Memories of his brutal minor league years flashed back, making Tae-woong wave it off in horror. Minors were rough. Road trips meant 10+ hour bus rides in chicken-coop vehicles barely fitting your body. Facilities? Barebones. Unlike MLB or even KBO with high-speed cameras and tech, minors had zilch—clubs believed only hungry, desperate players make the majors.
'Screw that motivation crap.'
Single-A meals? Peanut butter bread and damn cereal. Milk was rare, so you'd soak cereal in water... God, just thinking about it makes me gag.
Sure, Tae-woong had some signing bonus left after paying family debts, but you couldn't dash out mid-game or practice. After a Single-A season, anxiety about endless minors limited him to pizza or burgers a few times a month.
"First time hitting a restaurant after Double-A call-up? Blew my mind. Two kinds of peanut butter, strawberry jam, milk... Triple-A supposedly had steak and ham, but I got sent down before trying it—kinda bummed."
-Ace: Here comes the army story.
And sure enough, army tales spilled from Tae-woong's mouth.
"After my contract ended, back in Korea for a short break, then straight to basic training. They served shrimp burgers—compared to minor league bread, it was heaven."
-Ace: Hey, old man. Feels like the hundredth time. Quit peddling nostalgia. Speaking of, peanut butter bread delivery?
Tae-woong, lost in wistful memories, brushed off the offer and got up.
"Hell no. Listen, no matter what, I ain't touching peanut butter bread. Whatever, time to hit the gym."
-Ace: Yes, sir. Stay true to your crap-ball ways and grind that workout.
Big news like posting revisions or his three wins yesterday? Tae-woong didn't forget his routine.
'Plenty of time for that after the season. Nothing changes mid-season anyway...'
Geared up, he left for Hana Eagles Stadium. Just days after switching from Wiz, it already felt routine.
"Makes sense—lived here a few years."
He arrived at the entrance shortly after leaving.
"Not even 10 a.m. on a weekday, and fans are already here."
Hana Eagles, eyeing playoffs since 2006, drew national crowds. Game days packed the stadium early with fans waiting for players. Tae-woong, fresh off trade and a stellar debut start, was skyrocketing in popularity.
Spotting fans from afar, he stopped, turned, and rummaged in his oversized right-shoulder bag.
"Where is it? Gotta have one..."
After minutes of digging in place, Ace asked:
-Ace: What're you hunting for?
"This, obviously. That thing. Ah, must be... Found it! Knew I packed it here."
Finally, he pulled out a glasses case. Inside: pitch-black sunglasses so tinted they blocked all light.
-Ace: ...That what you were digging for?
Slipping them on, Tae-woong grinned.
"Yeah, whaddya think? Cool, right? Suits me?"
-Ace: Total psycho shit?
"What? Psycho shit? The hell's that?"
-Ace: Forget it.
"Hey, it's fan service. These days, it's not just autographs—gotta snap selfies on their phones too. Might as well look good."
-Ace: Yeah, you'll photograph great. Congrats, Dad.
Ignoring stares, Tae-woong strolled up. Fans recognized him, requesting signs and pics. The change? Gifts.
"Tae-woong, loved your post-game interview. Fried pork buns—you said you love 'em. Eat up!"
"Ah, thanks. No need to buy these, but... I'll enjoy them."
"And a photo plus autograph on my jersey?"
"Sure thing."
Multiple fans handed him gifts now. After bowing to the last of 30-some fans, his empty left hand clutched ten boxes of fried pork buns.
"Gonna burst eating solo. Better share."
Wincing briefly, he split five per hand.
"Half it is. Overeating's bad."
-Ace: Human or pig?
The 13,000-seat Hana Eagles Stadium was full house again today. Eagles broadcasts always topped ratings, so networks whipped up specials on game days—including celebrity first-pitch training montages. Celebs clamored for Eagles Park slots, craving exposure. Among Tue-Sun games (Mon off), Saturday was prime—peak ratings meant max spotlight.
For the busy promo team, scheduling pitchers and celebs was key. A hot idol or handsome 20-30s actor as a diehard fan? Win-win image boost.
Lunch scarfed as delivered Chinese food, the promo office finally breathed. Sipping coffee, the team leader casually asked:
"Oh, who’s tomorrow's first-pitch?"
"Checking... It's celeb Lee Ha-neul."
"That singer?"
"Yeah, her manager called—huge fan, begged for Eagles Park pre-season. Booked it early."
"Tell the pitching coach to assign one guy for her training tomorrow. Starts around 4, done in an hour max."
"Oh, team leader—manager called again this morning. She's a fan of new addition Seo Tae-woong, who started yesterday. Any chance he could do it?"
"Sure, if he's free. Short gig, day after his start and rest—should be fine."
"Got it. Pitching meeting pre-game today, so I'll pass via Aram."
"Yeah, no mix-ups. Don't forget like last time."
"Yes, sir."