Jack and Michael
Of course, the two men knew each other well. Jack was a major league superstar, and Michael had been scouting for Oakland for a long time. Before Jack retired, Michael had held the not-insignificant position of assistant general manager at the time.
They were acquainted through player-franchise connections, but that didn't mean their paths would ever cross in business. The reason was simple. Jack was among the highest-paid hitters in the majors, while Michael was the deputy GM of a small-market team. Oakland had dreamed countless times of having Jack Brown play for them, but Jack himself had never entertained the idea, not even a little.
"So, what brings you to call me?"
Jack asked with a puzzled expression, and Michael replied nonchalantly, as if it were nothing.
"Nothing much. I was just wondering how you've been lately."
"Hm. I'm doing fine, nothing to complain about. Life's a bit boring these days, though."
"Is that so? Then how about coming to Oakland to coach?"
"Hahaha, thanks for the thought."
Jack burst out laughing, but he knew from the start that Oakland had no intention of hiring him as a coach. Oakland was a classic front-office-run team, with the front office exerting total control. Already stretched thin on player acquisitions, they had no plans to bring in big-name coaches. Famous coaches came with egos to match, wanting to run the team their way, which made them hard to handle for Oakland—they deliberately assembled a staff of lesser-known coaches.
Anyway, given his name value, even without coaching experience, Jack's market price would be substantial. And Jack, no volunteer, intended to command his full worth aligned with the market; he had no interest in taking a bargain-basement coaching gig.
"So." Jack, who had been laughing heartily, cut straight to the point. "What's the real reason you called me?"
Michael responded with a casual expression, as if it were no big deal.
"I'm curious about how your son has been doing lately. We don't have much info."
"Roy?"
Jack echoed in surprise, but inwardly he muttered,
'Oakland's sniffed it out too.'
Having spent so long in the majors, Jack knew the tendencies of each franchise intimately. And he was well aware that Oakland rarely showed interest in high school prospects. For their GM to call personally just to check in meant one thing: they wanted to sign him.
'What to do.'
Jack pondered briefly. Yoo Min-hoo's shoulder was recovering well. And unlike before, he wasn't swayed by his own fame—he was showing remarkably mature mental strength.
'He'll be much stronger than before.'
Oakland might have sensed that potential.
'They're asking so directly, so they already know he's in Korea.'
Having finished his thoughts, Jack spoke up.
"You already know he's in Korea. What exactly are you curious about?"
"How's his shoulder?"
"As a parent, I'm only going to say good things."
Jack replied with a chuckle, and Michael asked curiously,
"Has any other team besides ours made contact?"
Jack let out a "Hm—" and answered honestly.
"Tampa Bay reached out, yeah?"
"Tampa Bay?"
"Yeah, a few months back."
"What were the terms?"
"$500,000."
Jack freely revealed even the signing bonus amount. Michael fell silent for a moment before asking again.
"That's a pretty solid offer. Why turn it down?"
"Roy said himself he wants to sign once his body's fully ready."
"I see. Well, the reason I called is because we're interested in Roy Yoo. But it's a bit surprising that another team has approached."
Value skyrockets when multiple suitors emerge. Oakland had planned to offer more than Tampa Bay's amount from months ago, but Michael didn't reveal his figure to Jack.
'Tampa Bay's intentions are key right now.'
Michael thought inwardly. He wondered if they still wanted to sign him, and if so, how much they'd pay. As time passed, Yoo Min-hoo's price would only rise. Michael knew now was the best shot at grabbing him on the cheap.
"Anyway, I'll reach out again. Hopefully we can work something out then."
"Got it. Talk later."
Jack agreed, and the call ended. He set down his phone, caught his breath with a rasp, and while dialing Kim Mi-hyun in Korea, muttered to himself,
'Maybe I should act as Roy's personal agent like this?'
The retired major league superstar was deeply contemplating his second act in life, separate from his son's future.
"Oakland?"
During dinner, Yoo Min-hoo reacted with mild surprise to Kim Mi-hyun's words.
"Yeah. Oakland—the team. According to Jack, they seem pretty serious about signing you."
Kim Mi-hyun said brightly.
About a year ago, teams' scouts had been visiting home nonstop. They were all deeply interested in Yoo Min-hoo. Of course, with Jack holding the line, they hadn't tried sweet-talking or tempting him, but back then, it hadn't been hard for Yoo Min-hoo to shop around suitors. But after the shoulder injury, that interest had evaporated overnight.
Now, those teams' attention was trickling back to Yoo Min-hoo. Not as intense as before, but already two franchises had shown signing intent. From a parent's perspective, it was nothing but joyful change.
"Oakland, huh..."
'Oakland's GM... Michael, right?'
Oakland's former GM, Les, had revolutionized baseball and turned Oakland into a powerhouse. The Michael Want that Yoo Min-hoo knew was no slouch either—he'd taken Oakland to back-to-back World Series, winning one, making him a top-tier GM.
Before regression—in other words, ten years from now—Oakland had dominated the American League as its top team long-term. Especially in a league with juggernauts like the ultra-rich New York Kingdomz and Boston Red Gloves holding down the fort, reigning as number one wasn't easy. That was purely thanks to Michael Want's vision and franchise management.
'A team with a bright future.'
Strong now, but poised to grow even stronger—that was Oakland. Decisively, what appealed most about their offer was Oakland's farm system.
Small-market teams lacking capital had no choice but to prioritize self-sufficiency. Naturally, they spared no expense on their farm (minor league affiliates). Tampa Bay had built an excellent system too, letting prospects develop pressure-free, but Oakland invested far more in theirs. Early on, the heavy spending drew criticism, but it became the foundation for their rise to powerhouse status.
Yoo Min-hoo had learned one thing thoroughly through his long minor league grind: It wasn't how you entered that mattered, but what you did once inside.
For him, the best environment for stable growth into the future trumped any immediate signing bonus. A thought an ordinary high schooler couldn't have. Only Yoo Min-hoo, with his vast experience, could.
Seeing her son deep in thought, Kim Mi-hyun asked,
"Tough decision?"
"Hm? Yeah. Oakland's got me thinking."
"Because it's Oakland?"
Kim Mi-hyun tilted her head curiously.
"Were you an Oakland fan? I thought you were Boston."
"Huh?"
At her somewhat offbeat comment, Yoo Min-hoo looked puzzled, then burst out laughing. She apparently thought he was mulling Oakland because he liked the team. In fact, he'd often said before that even for a low bonus, he'd go to Boston if they offered.
"So? Did Oakland mention a signing bonus?"
"Doesn't seem like they've talked numbers yet."
"Oh?"
"What do you think?"
"Well."
Yoo Min-hoo pondered briefly before speaking.
"For now, I'm focusing on the President's Cup."
Kim Mi-hyun nodded understandingly.
Dinner wrapped up, and Yoo Min-hoo headed to his room, firing up his laptop and stretching lightly. Today was Friday, September 16th. Starting next Tuesday, the Korean Baseball Federation President's Cup would run for nine days.
The President's Cup granted priority entry to teams reaching the quarterfinals or better in the Golden Lion, Blue Dragon, President's Cup, and Phoenix tournaments, with other strong performers filling out the field. Though its history was short, it had cemented its image as the true king-of-kings tournament.
Yoo Min-hoo spent the time reviewing and analyzing videos of key players from each school saved on his laptop. Finally finishing, he closed the laptop and leaned back in his chair.
A faint creak echoed.
That wrapped up the basic prep. Now he just had to pitch in the tournament.