Offseason Overtures and Agent Assault
The wildcard showdown between Oakland and Boston ended in victory for the Red Sox. From the moment their bullpen ace and fifth batter returned to the lineup, Boston had transformed into a team of entirely different caliber from their regular-season form. With that, the 2017 season drew to a close, and the Oakland Athletics shifted into offseason preparations for the coming year.
For Roy Yoo, October meant a full month of relaxed rest at home. Winter is a crucial season for players too. How they use this downtime can make or break their performance next year. For rookies like Roy, fresh out of high school and thrust into pro ball, some struggle to adapt to the major league stage. Others crave more matchups to build experience. That's where the winter leagues come in.
Of course, they had little to do with Roy. The winter leagues in the US are instructional circuits run under agreements between MLB clubs. They're not for top prospects like Roy, who shone brightly in their debut year. So Roy had to manage his condition and schedule personal training on his own.
Even amid the rest, he kept up basic conditioning. It was on Monday, October 30th, that visitors showed up for Roy as he spent his days like this. Returning home from a lunchtime run in the nearby park, Roy halted at the sight of a man and woman standing in front of his house.
"Excuse me, are you Roy Yoo?"
A white man in his mid-thirties approached politely. Roy paused, looked at him, and nodded.
"Yes, that's me. And you are?"
The man replied with a casual expression, as if it were no big deal.
"Ah, I'm from Martin Agency."
"Martin Agency?"
Roy tilted his head. Martin Agency was a renowned US sports agency managing athletes across various fields. Seeing Roy's puzzled look, the man smiled.
"If you're not too busy, could you spare a moment?"
***
The man introduced himself as Cliff James, team leader for the baseball division at Martin Agency. The white woman beside him was Mary Wilson, another agency employee. Roy frowned slightly as he read their business cards.
"What brings Martin to me?"
Cliff raised a finger confidently at Roy's question.
"Obviously, we want to sign you. You don't have an agency yet, right, Roy?"
"If that's the reason, you could've just called instead of showing up unannounced."
Cliff shrugged at Roy's retort, looking matter-of-fact.
"Sure, we could have, but I figured meeting face-to-face would be much better for both sides."
Roy inwardly clicked his tongue at the man's beaming smile. This guy's a slippery type to deal with.
Roy sipped his water and said, "What if I'm already signed with another agency or have no interest? Isn't this a waste of time and money?"
"Well, maybe, but I think just making this connection is worthwhile."
That response solidified Roy's uncomfortable impression of the man. People who make you feel guilty then steer the conversation rarely have good intentions. While Roy mulled this over, Cliff took the lead, praising Roy's season performance while subtly noting areas for improvement and how to address them.
True to his position at a top agency, Cliff laid out professional insights and data that gradually convinced Roy. Most players Roy's age, especially baseball prospects, surprisingly lack such specialized knowledge. They grasp concepts mentally but aren't used to articulating, analyzing, and quantifying them precisely.
Of course, that didn't apply to Roy. Cliff was starting to feel a bit thrown off.
He's following my analysis perfectly?
Cliff had expected players to nod along vaguely, buoyed by the praise, skimming his prepared documents. But Roy read the analysis materials with genuine interest.
This was a new breed of player for Cliff.
"Interesting."
That was Roy's response after hearing Cliff out. Another unexpected reply.
Roy shrugged at the surprised Cliff, flapping the papers in his hand.
"But I'm not really looking to sign with an agency right now."
To sum up Cliff's pitch:
1. Provide free training and schedule management services for two years during the offseason.
2. If Roy gets called up to the majors within two years, Martin Agency handles future salary negotiations and contracts, taking a standard commission percentage.
It was a tempting deal. The two years of player management was an investment in Roy's future.
Unfortunately, Roy had no intention of signing now. He also knew full well the leverage a high-profile unsigned prospect like himself held over agents. The offer was attractive, but holding off was more profitable long-term. With that judgment, Roy rejected it without hesitation.
Cliff nodded with a smile at Roy's words.
"Fair enough. It's not something you decide on the spot."
Tougher than I thought.
Most prospects melted at such approaches, flattered by the high valuation and sweet terms. As Cliff shifted in his seat, Mary Wilson excused herself briefly. Once she stood, Cliff grinned.
"Pretty, huh?"
"She's a real beauty," Roy agreed, thinking inwardly, Here it comes—the usual play.
"Believe it or not, she's a top trainer. Keeps that figure too."
Pulling the beauty card, right on cue. Roy shook his head mentally.
"She's not going to be my trainer or anything, is she?"
"Oh? How'd you guess?"
Roy let out a dry chuckle at Cliff's amused tone. Sports agencies profit by managing players and taking cuts. They move fast to lock in talent. But baseball has variables—late bloomers from low rounds who explode onto the scene, evading agent radars. Agencies pull out all stops for them, and sex appeal is one tactic.
"Mary's an excellent trainer. And gorgeous. Training with her would help in all sorts of ways."
Roy had seen plenty of players snag agency deals over hot trainers. Young male athletes his age are especially susceptible. Plenty dated their trainers too.
"Hmm."
Roy exhaled lightly. Cliff shot him a Well? look. A chance to hook up with a beauty trainer? Kids this age fold like cards.
Roy shrugged at Cliff's expectant smirk.
"Not interested."
Cliff looked like he'd been hammered on the head.
***
After parting with the Martin folks and getting home, Roy told his mother, Kim Mi-hyun, about the encounter.
"Really? I just got a call from an agency too—they wanted to meet tomorrow."
"Oh? That's something. Did you tell Dad?"
"Yeah, told your dad to talk to them and hung up. But when I called him, he'd already fielded two calls from agents."
"......"
Roy furrowed his brow. Word of Martin's move must've spurred the other big agencies into action. Ella, lounging in the living room playing console games, burst out laughing as she overheard.
"Heh heh, Roy, you're popular!"
Roy just shook his head.
Over the next week, Roy fielded six calls pitching "Sign with us—we'll hook you up with a hot trainer." Some even asked his preferred type. It got so absurd he wondered if they were matchmakers, not agents. Only then did the pursuit die down.
"What a pain."
Shaking his head in his room, Roy booted up his computer, reminiscing on the annoyance.
"Still, there were perks."
The week of meetings wasn't wasted. His email inbox brimmed with contract proposals from each agency, complete with attached analysis reports on him as a player.
"Nothing beats evaluations from diverse perspectives for credibility."
Roy chuckled. It was an unexpected windfall—scooping up their intel without signing. He figured it was payback for the hassle. Comparing reports from major agencies, Oakland scouts, and his self-assessments, Roy began charting his winter training schedule in earnest.