Perfect Game Mania
Busan Minions' rookie pitcher Han Jimin (20) pulled off an unprecedented perfect game in the exhibition match. In the game against the Incheon Landers at Sajik Baseball Stadium, Han Jimin allowed zero baserunners, securing a 1-0 shutout and perfect game.
The team's offense broke the tie in the bottom of the 7th with Bae Chaewon's solo home run, and Han Jimin cleanly retired the final batter in the 9th, etching a miraculous record.
Minions fans, starved for championships for decades, were moved beyond "fall baseball" dreams, chanting Han Jimin's name throughout the stadium. Even though it's an exhibition game with no official record, this first perfect game since the Minions' founding is hugely significant, and expectations are high for Han Jimin's impact on the team's strength this season.
The baseball community was buzzing over the monumental perfect game in an exhibition—Minions' first game no less. Minions fan forums were in absolute chaos.
Posts flooded in praising Han Jimin for the perfect game, practically forming an unofficial fan club. There were also shoutouts to Park Haneul's defense and chatter about the battery chemistry between Han Jimin and Jeong Hayoung.
Of course, some criticized manager Madison Brooks for letting a rookie go nine innings in an exhibition meant for testing player form and fitness. But the perfect game overshadowed it all, burying the complaints.
"No doubt about your skill and condition."
"Thank you."
"Head up to Seoul right now, rest up, and prep for the Twins game on the 23rd."
"...Pardon?"
And just like that, Han Jimin—the savior of Minions fans and heartthrob of baseball enthusiasts from his exhibition debut—earned over ten days off. He'd proven his chops with one perfect game.
"Hm."
While the other players sweated it out at training, I felt a bit awkward lounging around managing my condition. But thinking about my contract's perks—no mandatory team training as long as I deliver wins in rotation—made it something to get used to, starting now.
Of course...
"2-for-8?"
"Yeah. You can hit that, right?"
"Uh..."
Jeong Hayoung's head drooped like a puppy who'd lost its treat at my words. For reference, in the game where I threw the perfect game, her line was 1-for-4. A .250 average.
Basically, maintain it.
Wasn't Jeong Hayoung's minor league average last year around .200?
Considering the jump to majors, it was a tall order. But she wouldn't play every game—manager Madison Brooks mentioned testing multiple catchers with veteran Oh Yesul nearing retirement, so Jeong Hayoung wouldn't start daily.
Still, most major leaguers pegged her as Oh Yesul's successor. She was the only Minions catcher who could handle my stuff. The minor leaguers were a step below her in offense and defense anyway.
Anyway,
"You got lucky with that perfect game, but you know how close we came to blowing it, right?"
"Y-yeah."
I wasn't just talking smack. That razor-thin 1-0 shutout. Without Bae Chaewon's solo shot, I don't even want to imagine.
No matter how lights-out the pitcher is, baseball's a team game—you need runs to win. That's why I was riding Jeong Hayoung.
"Keep .250 or better till I get back..."
I trailed off, grabbing her breast.
"Hngh...!"
A natural moan slipped from Jeong Hayoung's lips at my touch. Her body twitched—probably still sore from last night, when we celebrated the perfect game by pounding her till she nearly blacked out.
"I'll fuck you senseless."
I smacked her ass, and she gulped, squirming against me. It'd only been days since I took her virginity, but her blissed-out face showed she was already hooked on the pleasure.
Of course, rewards came with sticks.
"But if you drop below .200 after 15+ plate appearances? No sex for a month."
"Uh..."
"Can't even get 15? That's no sex either. Means you don't have the manager's trust, right?"
Her eyes shook like an earthquake. But as she bit her lip, I smirked.
Her past stats weren't dramatic, but if she stepped up and backed me...
Minions fans' fall baseball dreams get a real shot.
With that, I gave Jeong Hayoung her quest and headed to Seoul for the first time in ages.
KBC Open Hall.
"Endless spreading purple light—."
—Cha-ris-ma! Jeong Ria!
"Even with eyes closed, crystal clear."
—Mi-ni-ons! Lily!
"...Cough."
Hearing the fans' calls synced to Violet Dream, I couldn't help but cough.
"The fans' chants are pretty striking."
"Yeah."
I nodded at Jeong Hye-ryeong—my manager, who'd come to the studio with me—and watched the stage.
Everyone who loves Foxy knows Lily's a hardcore Minions fan. But I never expected the fan chant.
Anyway, DREAM & BURN—which I composed, wrote, and produced for Foxy—was still dominating charts a month post-comeback.
It was dipping a bit till a few days ago...
My perfect game against the Landers drew baseball fans, reversing its slide. Still, number one staying number one—calling it a reverse climb was a stretch.
"You been to the company lately?"
"Huh? Yeah."
"How's the Foxy vibe?"
"Vibe... total chaos. Album sales are record-breaking, streaming too."
As Jeong Hye-ryeong said, Foxy's album was BOZ's best ever.
"Overseas reactions?"
"Insane. Rep says they're eyeing global showcases or tours."
"Really? They'll need overseas label partnerships then."
"Haven't heard that far. President might be handling it."
"Hm."
To sustain the hype, they needed international faces. Problem was, global expansion meant tougher schedules and stamina management.
Like next month's variety shows...
My KBO and variety gigs meant dialing back Foxy work too. Still, they'd push domestic concerts or overseas projects soon to crush top-tier girl group Lunatic.
Foxy's set ended, so I headed backstage.
"Eek?!"
"Producer!!!"
The maknae spotted me first, yelling as she rushed over.
"You see our stage?"
"Yeah, you killed it."
"For real? Know where I was?"
As I humored her, Ria emerged from the portable changing room, nudging the maknae's back with a narrowed glare.
"Harin, change out of your outfit."
"Y-yes!"
She scurried off like a drilled recruit.
"...Overdoing the discipline?"
"Loosen up now, and accidents happen. The better you do, the more cautious."
Ria coughed lightly, smirking, then glanced around and sidled close.
"Saw your perfect game. My man's got a hell of an arm? First time in our country's history, right?"
"Exhibition, so no official record. Whatever."
"Oh? Then do it again."
"...Hm."
I groaned low at her innocent words. If perfect games were easy, KBO's 40+ years would've seen one.
Sports noob take, naturally.
As we caught up—me on baseball, her on entertainment—
"Whoa! Per-fect!!!"
Lily spotted me next, eyes sparkling as she shouted. She eyed my left arm like buried treasure.
"Your eyes are weird. Why stare like that?"
"Why? Unnie, that's the left arm that made Minions history with a perfect game!"
"...That big a deal?"
"Duh! First in 40 years of Korean baseball!"
"......Got it."
Lily puffed her chest like she'd done it. Ria, more soccer fan than baseball, still looked puzzled.
"Oh, right! Sign this!"
Like a fan meeting an idol, Lily grabbed pen and paper for my autograph.
Ria tilted her head. "Why his signature? For what?"
"SNS post. Every Minions fan wants it."
"Huh?"
"Sajik's savior?"
"...Ah, yeah."
Ria scratched her head as Lily snapped pics.
We were swapping updates—my baseball, her idol life—when a knock brought a familiar face peeking in.
"Na PD?"
"Long time, Jimin? Was looking for you—knew you'd be here."
Na PD, from Overnight Feast and Best Baseball.