The Gene Gacha Fail
After Noh In-seong had held Alves hostage on the mound, the umpire threw a punch of his own with a declaration: "Guys like you don't belong on a baseball field — maybe in an octagon, but not here."
And so two problem children — though hardly the strongest of anything — were ejected from the stadium simultaneously.
The obligatory post-game interviews came and went, the club asked the league about suspensions, and the fine notices rolled in. By now, having weathered the Noh In-seong–Dustin–Noh In-seong saga, the Doubles' front office and roster handled it all with practiced ease.
Alves, suspended for the same five games, lay flat on his back — and it wasn't the strained muscle in his arm that kept him down. It was the bruise from Noh In-seong slamming him into the dirt at the end, a wound diagnosed at three weeks' recovery time, which Changwon's front office made sure to announce to the world.
"So the bastard who used to drink and throw at people's heads is now drinking and lying flat on his ass. Haha."
Changwon manager Kim Chang-soo had already ascended halfway to enlightenment — it was a rebuilding season, after all. The same could not be said for the man steering a team in first place.
"Ah... goddamn it. This is exactly why I kept telling them to buy me bullpen arms, starters, anything..."
Doubles manager Jeong Im-taek could not laugh this one off.
Not that yelling at Noh In-seong ever accomplished anything — if the kid listened, there would never have been a second ejection to begin with.
Which left exactly one real option. So Jeong Im-taek started throwing an outright tantrum.
"Trade somebody already! How long am I supposed to run a bullpen with a 12.50 ERA out there?!"
The analytics team, who wanted nothing more than to ask, 'Goddammit, do trade assets fall from the sky?', somehow managed to calm down the rabid dog that had flipped their entire desk of computers, and sent him on his way.
Not long after, that rabid dog... rather, that manager of theirs, succeeded in the trade he wanted.
"Cho Hyo-jin? You're telling me they'd give up that pitcher? Are those people out of their minds?"
"Well, he hits free agency the year after next. I suppose they figure it's a year-and-a-half rental on their end."
--Besides, can you really see any hope of fall baseball for a team that's already out of the pennant race at second base and behind the plate?
"Ha. Truly. I never knew that boy could actually be useful in a place like this. The world is full of surprises."
"A butterfly's wings can land anywhere, I suppose. That's what I keep telling myself."
Jeong Im-taek thought back to the face of his starting shortstop-turned-starter — the one who had handed him a nice steaming pile of trouble with a smile.
"Oh? Do they count as a fire sale?"
A big screen, a headset hooked over one ear, an air conditioner blowing a cool breeze, and a bed. Complete with a straw and a cup of ice.
Noh In-seong was enjoying his second suspension of the season, watching the trade news that had just broken.
Cho Hyo-jin Traded in a Shock Move to Incheon — Season Written Off?!
"Well, it was already a team I didn't trust a soul in, so I was just happily grinding Jinhong-hyung into dust anyway. Guess this works out?"
That the next man up after Jinhong-hyung had been Jeon In-soo — this ahjussi — said everything about how dire their bullpen really was.
A lefty with good control, sure — but a former starter barely out of rehab, barely scraping 140 km/h.
"Honestly, I don't care whether this ahjussi takes a rotation spot or whether one of the guys coming back from Sangmu does."
In-soo-ahjussi was one thing. Whether the men returning from military service could get along with him without incident, though — that remained to be seen.
"In-seong! Food's ready—!"
Oh, dinner? Perfect timing, actually. He'd just gotten bored of the drama he was watching.
He was hungry anyway — all he'd had since his morning run was a protein shake.
And so Noh In-seong enjoyed a lovely holiday at home.
"Ah, this sweet, sweet rest... yeah, I'm bored of it now. I want to move."
Sprawled out roasting himself in the air conditioning, Noh In-seong lay in his room, unable to contain his idleness.
The long-promised school observation class was scheduled for Monday of the week after next, on a rest day, and his next ad shoot wasn't until after the All-Star break.
It would be the second round of the tteok commercial — the one Deok Jin-man had screamed with joy over, crying that he'd never expected a single rice cake ad to sell this well.
A man with no reason to be busy and no appointments on the books, and thanks to his suspension, five empty days?
Day one he'd lazed around the house, eaten his mother's cooking, and rested up properly. By day two, the boredom had set in.
They say most professions put their downtime to productive use. Baseball players were a little different.
"Energy reserves. I got pulled mid-start, so I need to baby that shoulder even more — recovery first, weights later."
A run at lunchtime. Yesterday and today were shoulder recovery days, so no weights — bodyweight work only.
The ice bath was off the table. Wasting ice meant a beating from his mother, and he'd be the one scrubbing the tub afterward.
And beyond that, the schedule was a blank page. Sure, a day of lying around watching TV was fine. Two days was torture.
"...You know what, fine. I'll just go on a variety show or something..."
Just as he reached for the remote, planning to kill time answering questions on some program, a sound interrupted him.
An unknown number flashed on his phone screen.
"So, to sum up."
The man was the CP — the producing director — of a program called Debate! Two Hours.
And there was a debate coming up about the recent controversy surrounding media culture in general: children, sports, gaming, all of it.
"But why exactly would I need to sit on the panel?"
"Well, Noh In-seong-nim, that hostage bench-clearing you pulled off recently has become quite the hot-button issue."
Ah, the thing on the mound.
Really, this is why the media can't be trusted. A hostage situation? It was a negotiation, thank you very much.
In that fierce yet utterly silent process — the tango of man and violin — where exactly was the hostage element supposed to be?
"Well, fine. I was bored out of my mind anyway. Works out nicely."
"Haha! Wonderful! Ah — would you like the background materials on the regulatory panel, and the documents on this controversy?"
"Yes. Send them over."
Well, the topic was the topic. What they wanted, obviously, was footage of a baseball player sitting there getting chewed out without saying a word.
But they really should have done their homework. I'm the kind of man who wants to tear that exact kind of script to shreds the moment I see it.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Debate! Two Hours. I'm your anchor..."
Today's topic — 'The Emotional Development of Children and Teens: Can the Media Really Go On Like This?' — was white-hot from the opening bell.
"Media regulation? What is this, the Stone Age? We already went through the thirties and got roasted alive for it!"
On one side: the veteran media consumers and industry insiders, forever wielding the word 'logic.' The anti-regulation camp.
"No — our children see that filth and copy it! The negative influence leaks into their study habits and—!!"
On the other: the parents and education workers, for whom a child's education was the single most sacred thing in the world. The pro-regulation camp.
"Your kids? Kids who were never going to do it in the first place don't do it. Simple as that."
And then, wedged in the middle, sat a luncheon openly committing slander in real time. Pure dopamine, nothing more.
The opening jab was a light one.
"First of all, Noh In-seong-nim has been famous for a long time now, hasn't he?"
They rolled the footage: his endless provocations and ceremonies performed in front of opposing teams back in high school, all the way up to the recent hostage incident, laid out in full — and then, as if demanding a confession, came the question.
"Do you truly believe this sort of conduct is what the emotional education of average children and teenagers needs?"
They were clearly expecting him to open with, 'No, of course not, but...'
"Could the average person even step onto that stage — the stage of the chosen few?"
--I'm not average, I'm the top of the industry, and I've already beaten the living daylights out of countless competitors?
Noh In-seong had muddied the waters with total confidence, and the faces of the anti-... rather, the pro-regulation side crumpled on impact.
"I understand the point you're making, but to put it in one sentence — children imitate what you do. That's the problem."
"Exactly! How do you intend to take responsibility?! Our children..."
They scrambled at him the instant the question ended, and apparently the sight amused him, because Noh In-seong landed a follow-up hit.
"Then that's a failure of the parents who couldn't teach their own kids properly at home. Disqualified as parents, frankly."
"!!!!"
"What kind of parent can't win a single argument with their own child? You've already lost to them verbally, before the media even enters the picture."
Calm, measured, delivered with a smile — and every word landed like a hammer on the pro-regulation side.
"So what you're really saying is: we can't control our own kids, so the people making the content had better watch out! Isn't that it?"
"...N-no, that is, since no child follows every restriction...!!"
The pro-regulation camp scrambled to declare that this was not, in fact, what they meant — and Noh In-seong finished them off.
"Then any kid who doesn't follow those restrictions clearly never will. The writing's on the wall."
--Regulate or don't, the ones who were going to watch it were going to watch it anyway. What exactly is regulation for?
Noh In-seong, cool and composed, had scored the golden goal on the corpse.
It was the sentiment of countless orphans from that bygone era, who'd memorized the director's resident registration number by heart.
Riding the momentum, the anti-regulation camp — whose whole thesis was that regulation would only degrade the quality of media anyway — held the upper hand through the middle of the debate.
But in debates like this, the audience is always a variable.
"I'm afraid my child will be a bad influence... I mean, influenced badly by that kind of content. And these days it's so easy to get hold of..."
"The fact remains, copycat criminals do exist."
"At my school, kids have started doing this 'one-inch punch' thing lately — God knows where they picked it up..."
"Doesn't it all just eat into their study time in the end?"
Ordinary people, in droves, firmly shoring up the rear of the pro-regulation side.
In debates like this, the more aggressive camp was almost always the one with the parents.
"Your kid? Block him all you want — he'll just wander over to a friend's house and get his first taste there."
"The lunatic kids who copy that garbage are already copying it, genius."
"Oh dear. Fun fact: there was a time when finger guns were all the rage. Before that, it was plain old punching."
"Your kids don't learn a damn thing no matter what they watch. Not unless it's something they already wanted."
And Noh In-seong, with pure fact, helped each and every one of them off the cliff.
Spitting in smiling faces with a smile of his own — a historic achievement for the ages.
The two-hour debate descended into near-total chaos, churning out endless clips and "famous quotes" (read: infamous blunders), but time is always short, and before anyone noticed, the broadcast deadline had arrived.
It would end with one final statement from each side.
Under normal circumstances, you either acknowledge your opponent's remarks or reinforce your own argument.
"The reason your kid can't study, can't do the things you want them to do? It's because it's boring as hell to them. The problem is you — you never passed down the genes that would've made it fun for them. So quit blaming everyone else."
Noh In-seong, who hadn't come to debate so much as to entertain himself, landed his closing blow and headed home.
"...Th-this is... an outrage...!!"
The mood on the pro-regulation side was, to put it mildly, sour.
They were never going to win on theory — their whole case rested on real-world outcomes and public sympathy — and instead they'd been fed a slow, methodical plate of humiliation.
For the civic groups who'd had future legislation in their sights, it was an unmitigated disaster.
The CP of the two-hour debate was watching his own face rot in real time. Because this was not the picture he'd wanted.
The plan had been for both sides to converge somewhere around 'regulation can evolve with the times,' a gentle, civil consensus.
Right up until the taping, with a suitably docile, theory-type panelist on hand, it had all looked so promising...
'Ah... I just grabbed one ignorant jock to fill a seat, and this is what happens...'
"Ah... I'm dead."
Meanwhile, while Noh In-seong enjoyed his vacation, the Doubles were enduring a march through hell.
Game three against Changwon was, at least, a comfortable win — their starter had left the game at the same time as the opposing one, after all.
The next series against Daejeon, their second of the season, went smoothly too, with both foreign starters picking up the wins.
Everything was fine right up until they sealed it as a winning series.
The problem was the second series against Suwon.
Spot starter Jeon In-soo stepping into Noh In-seong's slot and giving them five innings of five-run ball was actually encouraging.
The trouble was that Jeon In-soo and Jeong In-young both ended up taking the losses.
"It's so strange — the whole lineup just feels like it's gone cold."
"Honestly, it's not strange at all. The very top of the umbrella is simply gone."
The nuclear umbrella — infused with sugar, radiation, every substance known to harm the human body, and an accidental helping of pure spite — was missing.
Across the team's three-game losing streak, they averaged four runs a game, while their starters allowed an average of six.
"Ohhh, In-seong! You're back! You're REALLY back...!!"
"DAMN, In-Seong. Missed you so much..."
"The hell? What's wrong with all of you, goddammit."
And so, when Noh In-seong finally arrived at the team hotel in Suwon on Tuesday evening, having survived his long (unpaid) holiday, it was hardly surprising that he was caught off guard by the entire team charging at him over a single hello.