Subtle Shifts and Surprise Reunions
Yoo Min-hoo and Lee Young-gon settled into seats near the makeshift bullpen. Once Lee Young-gon finished setting up for the interview, he asked Yoo Min-hoo in a joking tone,
"By the way, have you got a girlfriend?"
"No."
"Why not? You seem like you'd be pretty popular."
Yoo Min-hoo smiled at Lee Young-gon's surprised expression.
"My first season was so hectic, I just didn't have the time."
"Fair enough. I can see that."
Lee Young-gon nodded in understanding and continued,
"So, you made it all the way to Triple-A in your rookie year—what's your take on it?"
"It's hard to say, but I think I did better than I expected."
"Hmm. The team must be thrilled."
"I haven't heard any complaints about wasting money on me."
Lee Young-gon burst into cheerful laughter at that.
"Your main rival this season was Chamberlain Ricky—how'd that feel? To be honest, I thought his skills were a cut above yours right now. But you never seemed to be getting crushed by him."
Chamberlain had rocketed up to Double-A by late May. The team chemistry was still awkward, but his performance hadn't suffered—in fact, his consistency outshone even Yoo Min-hoo's. The two had been neck-and-neck through Double-A. But in the end, Chamberlain finished the season in Triple-A, while Yoo Min-hoo wrapped up in Double-A.
"Well, he's older and more skilled than me. But I've never felt pressured by him."
"Hmm, really? Who's the teammate you're closest to?"
"Tyrone."
After that, Lee Young-gon peppered him with questions, from trivial to detailed. When he finally asked about ambitions for next season, Yoo Min-hoo replied that he'd like to establish himself in Triple-A, wrapping up the interview.
Once it was over, Lee Young-gon snapped a photo of Yoo Min-hoo and said,
"Truth be told, I have high expectations for you guys."
Yoo Min-hoo gave him a puzzled look at the sudden comment.
"You're a bit of a question mark, but you're Korean, after all. There are a bunch of Korean players your age who had standout seasons. You and Kim Yong-soo both reached Triple-A in your first year, and some top domestic first-round picks like Lee Ho-seok are already on major league rosters."
Lee Young-gon smiled faintly at Yoo Min-hoo's curious stare.
"I just hope you keep doing well. Don't take it too seriously. Korea hasn't had any real standout rookies in ages. Japan, on the other hand—they keep churning out guys like Suzuki Toji."
Yoo Min-hoo responded to his wistful tone,
"Speaking of which, I just saw Suzuki Toji while I was out running."
"Suzuki Toji? I spotted him at the airport a few days ago—guess he's training here too."
Lee Young-gon muttered in surprise, then asked,
"You know who Suzuki Toji is?"
"He's famous."
Yoo Min-hoo gave that answer, though he didn't know much about Suzuki's actual stats in Japan. Lee Young-gon let out an impressed "Ho ho."
"What do you think of him?"
It was a question tossed out knowing Yoo Min-hoo's knack for player analysis. After a moment's thought, Yoo Min-hoo replied,
"I think he's got ace-level potential in the majors."
Lee Young-gon made a strange face at the high praise.
Training continued smoothly after Lee Young-gon left. Lee Ho-seok and Kim Yong-soo had some language barriers with Jack's coaching, but they could follow his instructions well enough.
Yoo Min-hoo spent most of his training time alone in the bullpen. He took his pitching stance, drew a deep breath, went into his windup, and fired.
Thwack!
The fastball slammed into the square strike-zone cushion with a sharp crack. Staring at the reverberating pad, Yoo Min-hoo glanced down at his hand.
The release feels a lot better.
Lately, he'd noticed a stark difference between his body on the first day of Hawaii training and now. As he'd built his condition through workouts, his stuff had improved compared to day one. But this pitch felt subtly different—not just from better conditioning.
Puzzled, Yoo Min-hoo walked over to the camera he'd set up to film his mechanics and reviewed the footage. He studied his latest delivery intently, then compared it to previous ones, lost in thought.
It's different.
His right foot had planted a bit farther forward than usual, and his arm angle was slightly higher. Subtle, but definitely changed from his norm.
Pitchers always strive for a consistent delivery. Muscle memory ensures stability. Form breaks usually come from injury, fatigue, or tension causing overexertion. The first two mean an immediate hook; the last isn't always disastrous. Sometimes, tension leads to a small tweak that actually works.
Yoo Min-hoo pondered his latest pitch seriously.
Today, my body felt light overall. Stuff was popping, so I was throwing freely. Guess I tensed up a bit in the process.
Resolved, he stood, recalled the motion from that pitch and the camera's footage of the tweak, and assumed his stance. He slowly stepped and swung his arm, imprinting the adjusted form. Satisfied it was settling in, he wound up and threw.
Whoosh, smack!
The ball flew true into the cushion. Similar feel to before, but the release was even better than prior pitches.
"Control feels easier too, but..."
This form seemed more comfortable overall, but Yoo Min-hoo hesitated. It was a serendipitous discovery of a superior motion—minor enough that fixing it wouldn't be hard.
What if I rush the change and strain something?
Even small tweaks could lead to injury. And he wasn't sure how it'd play in games.
After some deliberation, he decided,
"I'll practice it for now."
He'd drill it enough to ingrain it, then consult a coach at spring training. With that plan, he dove back into pitching practice.
He had no idea what this tiny shift would bring next season.
The Hawaii training camp wrapped up, and Yoo Min-hoo and Jack headed back to the States while Kim Yong-soo and Lee Ho-seok returned to Korea. For the two who'd trained under Jack, it was a hugely meaningful camp. For Yoo Min-hoo, who'd uncovered that small change, it was equally rewarding.
Back home, Christmas cheer filled the air. Yoo Min-hoo kept up his regimen regardless. Ella grumbled at her training-obsessed brother.
"Roy, wanna go on a blind date?"
With Christmas just days away, Ella asked out of the blue while gaming in the living room. Yoo Min-hoo looked baffled.
"A blind date? Out of nowhere?"
"One of my college friends wants an intro."
He gave a bored shrug at her casual vibe.
"I'm moving to a new area in a few months."
"C'mon, just meet up casually. She's super pretty."
Yoo Min-hoo shook his head at her breezy tone.
"Training's packed, and I'm not thinking about it right now."
"Isn't life boring if you're all baseball, all the time?"
He chuckled at her exasperated face.
"Of course it's fun."
In his past life, he'd worked harder than anyone, but results hadn't followed. Now, effort paid off directly. The sense of accomplishment was immense. As a righty, survival had been the goal—making the majors the endgame. But now? Not just the majors: ace of the league.
"It's sad seeing my little bro so obsessed with sports."
"I'm popular, you know."
"Yeah, sure."
"A girl asked for my number during camp."
"Who?"
Ella's tone sharpened; Yoo Min-hoo shrugged.
"Real knockout."
"Hotter than me?"
He stared at Ella, then shrugged.
"About the same."
"You're slacking on training to chase girls?"
"Weren't you just pushing a blind date?"
"That was 'cause you're so dull."
The stepsiblings bantered on. Ella finished her game, switched on the TV with a huff, and tuned to a music channel. Christmas carols filled the screen, fitting the season. Yoo Min-hoo stared blankly at the singer and murmured,
"That singer?"
"Huh? Yeah. Newbie who debuted last summer. Pretty popular."
Yoo Min-hoo let out a hollow laugh.
She's a singer?
The woman crooning on TV was none other than Lena, the girl he'd met in Hawaii.