#092 Back in Korea
Keeing— The whine of the airplane's engines buzzed in his ears during takeoff and landing.
November 1st. At Incheon International Airport, a sharply dressed man in a coat finished customs and collected his luggage. As Yoo Min-hoo stepped out of the airport toward the taxi stand, he shivered lightly in the chilly weather.
This season, his MLB debut year, had ended on a solid note for Yoo Min-hoo. His final stats: 11 games, 4 wins, 4 losses. 57.2 innings pitched with a 5.31 ERA and 1.47 WHIP.
Especially in the second half, he'd joined the starting rotation and reliably ate up about five innings per start, easing the bullpen's load—that's where his value truly shone. In the end, what had been seen as a premature call-up turned out to be a brilliant move.
Compared to Yoo Min-hoo's successful rookie season, the Oakland Athletics failed to reach the Wild Card Game, finishing sixth in the American League win percentage. Michael had tried every trick in the book, but they couldn't fill the massive gaps left by free agency losses. Sure, Yoo Min-hoo had shown promise as a rookie, but it wasn't enough to shift the season's balance.
Naturally, Rookie of the Year was out of reach. Rookies who win it usually play nearly full seasons. For a starting pitcher, you'd need a sub-3.00 ERA, 10 to 8 wins, and over 150 innings. Typically, it's guys who perform like solid No. 3 starters. Yoo Min-hoo had done well this year, but his numbers fell short for serious ROY talk.
Of course, Yoo Min-hoo didn't care much about that. He was plenty satisfied with a successful MLB debut season. The Rookie of the Year went to the top-performing newcomer, but it was a one-time title that required not just skill but luck too. Plus, it wasn't a guaranteed ticket to stardom—plenty of winners hit the sophomore slump the next year. Conversely, some guys far from ROY contention exploded into stars in year two. It was a prestigious honor, sure, but not something Yoo Min-hoo coveted.
The key is the offseason prep.
How rookies handle winter determines their next year. Yoo Min-hoo had plenty to fix this time around.
MLB rosters 750 players. It swells to 1,200 in September call-ups, but that's just the final month. It's a multibillion-dollar market from April to November, all chasing more wins. Every team analyzes players constantly, updating in real-time. 750 isn't an impossible number to scout, so all 30 clubs know every MLB player's weaknesses.
Yoo Min-hoo had been dissected by opponents right after debuting. His main flaw: shaky command. Especially on inside pitches to both sides of the plate—his control wobbled there. Balls thrown inside far outnumbered strikes. By early-to-mid September, hitters started laying off inside pitches blatantly, making his late-season outings a grind.
If the season had dragged on longer, he might've lost his rotation spot. Watching opponents adapt so fluidly drove home how unforgiving MLB was. Fixing command was essential for him to level up.
Anyway, once I'm back in the States, I should scout an apartment in Oakland.
His current Oakland-area place was decent but nothing special— he'd held off on anything better, expecting a possible minors demotion. With next year's 25-man roster spot locked in, it was time to upgrade.
As he pondered next season, Yoo Min-hoo reached the taxi stand and hopped in.
"Where to, sir?"
He answered flatly. "Munhak Stadium, please."
Before diving into next season's prep, Yoo Min-hoo had a reason for coming to Korea.
Season over, he'd headed straight home to Seattle. About ten days ago, while relaxing at home, a call came in.
—Yo, Major Leaguer. How've you been?
The cheerful voice—Yoo Min-hoo burst out laughing. "And you? Doing great, I bet. Makes sense for a ROY candidate."
The caller was Lee Ho-seok, his high school battery mate from senior year. This season, he'd seized the starting job with the Incheon Warriours, hitting .271/.513 with 16 homers—a breakout full-time year that made him a ROY favorite. No other full-time rookie matched his impact; his award felt like a lock.
—I'm good, yeah. ROY candidate... somehow it happened. Partly thanks to your dad.
Jack Brown's hitting coaching in last year's Hawaii winter league had clearly paid off.
Yoo Min-hoo chuckled. "What's up? Not just checking in."
—Nah. Our team's in the Korea Series.
The Incheon Warriours, second in the pennant race, grabbed a postseason bye. They swept Daegu 3-0 in the playoffs and now faced pennant winners Busan Phoenix.
—Got time to watch?
"I'll go, but tickets'll be tough."
It was the league's finale. As a single league, the Korea Series was more symbolic event than high stakes, but tickets sold out instantly.
—It's my team. You think I can't snag one?
Yoo Min-hoo laughed. "Alright. I'll check my schedule and hit you up."
—Cool. Waiting on your call.
Lee Ho-seok hung up with a grin. Yoo Min-hoo booked around Game 4 on November 1st.
In the taxi, fighting jet lag, he gazed out the window. Korean by nationality but American-raised for over 20 years, Korea felt foreign.
Oh yeah, the military thing.
The unexpected reminder made him pause.
Gotta look into that.
It could complicate things big-time.
At Munhak Stadium, Yoo Min-hoo headed to a nearby coffee shop. Scanning the room, he spotted a woman waving at him.
He sat across from her. "Long time. College suits you—you're even prettier now."
Lee Yoon-ji, Lee Ho-seok's sister, smirked. "Min-hoo oppa, laying it on thick, huh?"
He shook his head at her teasing. "No flattery. Honestly caught me off guard."
She'd been cute in high school; now, matured and made-up, she was striking. Yoon-ji beamed at the genuine praise.
"Anyway, belated congrats on making the Majors!"
She clapped lightly. Yoo Min-hoo replied, "Just the start. Meanwhile, Ho-seok's rookie year is huge—team's killing it. Kinda jealous."
A bittersweet smile, thinking of Oakland's playoff miss. Yoon-ji said, "Pfft. What'd our dummy brother do? Team carried him."
She knew his defense and offense had been stellar, though.
"Game's not till afternoon, right?"
Yoo Min-hoo checked his phone—11:30 a.m. Still half a day away.
"Yoon-ji, lunch yet?"
"Nope."
"Early, but let's eat. My treat—something good."
She widened her eyes, then grinned. "What're you buying?"
"Dunno, haven't thought."
As he mumbled, she stood. "Then let's go."