A Spectacular Retirement Ceremony

“Ji-hoo.”

Jang Tae-wook, who had been furiously tapping away at his phone, looked over at me.

“Yeah?”

“Isn’t it funny? After all that effort I put in…”

Honestly speaking, it had been an uphill battle for Jang Tae-wook from the start. The moment you stripped away the Rhinos halo surrounding him, the advantage swung heavily toward Park Ji-han. Jang Tae-wook was an outstanding hitter, but this season he simply couldn’t help but pale next to Park Ji-han.

It wasn’t this big a gap even last year…

During the era of Ryu Hyun-seo’s peaceful reign at shortstop, the skill difference between Jang Tae-wook, Park Ji-han, and the Powders shortstop—who had since moved to the Irons—had been razor-thin. But once Ryu Hyun-seo left for the big leagues, Park Ji-han awakened. Among baseball fans, talk of him as the next Ryu Hyun-seo was already floating around openly.

The Irons NTR’d the shortstop from the Powders, and then the Wizard NTR’d Ryu Hyun-seo from the Irons…

Anyway, with Park Ji-han’s current form defying imagination, it was never going to be easy for Jang Tae-wook to win. He had at least ramped up his performance right until the voting closed and put up a respectable fight, but still.

“Traitor.”

“I said I was sorry.”

I had been the one who poked Park Ji-han into action, after all. Jang Tae-wook wasn’t the only one who could elevate his game for All-Star votes.

“Haa…”

Jang Tae-wook let out a long sigh.

“What can you do? The results are already out.”

“Oh.”

Coming from the mouth of a man who had spent the last few days calling me a traitor, the words were surprisingly cool-headed.

“I just feel bad for the fans who voted for me.”

“Then how about filming an apology video? The YouTube team would love it.”

The rest of the Rhinos All-Stars—everyone except losers like Jang Tae-wook—had already shot thank-you videos. An apology video for failing to hold the number-one vote total? Reverse psychology. That felt like the modern style.

“You crazy bastard.”

“Aw, why?”

My brilliant idea was clearly going to die under the party’s firm rejection.

“Come to think of it, this is your first All-Star, right, Ji-hoo?”

“Out of nowhere?”

“So what.”

“No, it’s fine.”

If I kept picking at his wound any further, Jang Tae-wook might actually sulk for real. I decided to drop the All-Star voting talk for good. Still… the All-Star Game.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Haha. It’ll be a good experience. People call it a popularity contest, but an All-Star is still an All-Star.”

I smiled back at the shortstop who had finished second in the All-Star voting as he patted my shoulder. It was a genuinely warm end to the conversation.

Thud.

If only Jang Tae-wook’s phone hadn’t hit the floor.

“Oh? Hyung, you dropped your phone.”

I picked it up to hand it back to him. On the screen:

A smear campaign against me was already underway.

“Hahaha. Senior Jang Tae-wook. You must’ve been really busy. You didn’t even get to post the comment you were writing.”

“Ji-hoo… you saw it?”

“How ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could I not?”

“That…”

“Traitor.”

I turned my back as if wounded and quickly slipped out of the locker room, smiling where Jang Tae-wook couldn’t see.

Alright, now who’s the traitor?

And then—

CRAAACK!!!

My 34th home run cleared the right-field wall at Rhinos Park, and with it, the first half of 2025 came to an end.

“Nostalgic.”

Sitting in the stands of the new Daejeon stadium, I felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over me. Until last year, that spot down there had been mine.

Despite the sparsely filled seats, the players were running hard with real passion. The day before the All-Star Game, the Futures All-Star Game—the festival for second-team players—was underway.

“Tch…”

To put it bluntly, second-team games don’t draw many eyes. Whether in person or on broadcast.

They call it the Futures “All-Star,” but most baseball fans don’t even know the names of the guys playing right now. Unless you have the kind of buzz that comes with being “Minor League Yeopo Gong Ji-hoo,” the guy who hit .400 two years straight in the second team only to bat .100 in the first.

The Futures All-Star is still one of the few chances second-team players get to make a name for themselves. In fact, the MVP of the Futures All-Star Game usually walks away with a little fame and a bit of expectation. And most of them go on to deliver on that expectation by performing in the first team.

I just wasn’t one of them.

“Minor League Yeopo Gong Ji-hoo” had walked a different path from your average second-team yeopo. In the bad direction, of course.

Gulp, gulp.

Anyway. The reason I had deliberately come to the new Daejeon stadium the day before the All-Star Game wasn’t to sneer at the Futures players working their hearts out. And it wasn’t exactly to cheer them on either.

Well, I am cheering… sort of.

Gulp, gulp.

Just as the iced americano in my hand was about to hit bottom—

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

A familiar voice called out to me.

“You made it.”

It was Kim Jae-sang.

“We should head down soon.”

“Already?”

“Their game’s almost over.”

The KBO All-Star Game is a festival. That means plenty of side events. And among them, the one that draws every fan’s attention is—

“Haa… Never thought I’d live to see the day I’d be in a home run derby with you.”

“Right? I don’t even know why I have to go up against a guy with fewer home runs than me.”

“Gong Ji-hoo, your old personality’s coming out again?”

“What was I like back then?”

“Annoying as hell.”

“You’re one to talk, Jae-sang.”

The Home Run Derby. The ultimate pre-All-Star event decided by home runs alone. Aside from the All-Star Game itself, it’s the event that pulls the most fan attention.

Like I said before—home runs are the flower of baseball.

“Kim Jung-up here.”

“The Home Run Derby is about to begin. The league’s representative power hitters are already loosening up on the field.”

“We took the twelve hitters with ten or more home runs in the first half, ran a fan vote, and narrowed it down to eight.”

“Yes. The players warming up right now are those very eight.”

“The top vote-getter is the league home run leader—Rhinos’ Gong Ji-hoo. It’s quite ironic, really.”

“Hahaha! It is, isn’t it? Gong Ji-hoo always insists he’s not a home run hitter.”

Even the broadcast booth approached this kind of exhibition event with a relaxed mindset.

“A certain player once said Gong Ji-hoo’s deception is world-class.”

“Would that player happen to have fewer than thirty career home runs?”

“Ah, I can’t say. I absolutely cannot say that it was the starting shortstop of the same team who said that.”

They were even free enough to throw in light jabs like that.

“This year’s Home Run Derby is being held at the newly opened Daejeon stadium. The order runs reverse of the vote totals.”

“Yes. Starting with the Powders’ Yang Seong-hyeon and ending with the Rhinos’ Gong Ji-hoo. Out of the eight players, the two with the most home runs advance to tomorrow’s final. By the way…”

Every All-Star event this year was taking place at the new Daejeon stadium.

“Left-handed hitters are going to be at a real disadvantage.”

Powders Ball Park has an eight-meter-high wall in right field.

“Two of the eight players competing today are lefties.”

“Yes. Coincidentally, the first batter, Yang Seong-hyeon, and the last batter, Gong Ji-hoo, are both left-handed.”

And so the Home Run Derby began. The first hitter, the Powders’ Yang Seong-hyeon—

“Yang Seong-hyeon has hit ten home runs this year while calling the new Daejeon stadium home.”

“Even as a lefty, playing in his home park should give him some advantage.”

Contrary to the booth’s expectations, seven outs ticked by without a single ball clearing the wall.

“Ah… Yang Seong-hyeon finishes with zero home runs.”

“That wall is just too high. Yang Seong-hyeon must be cursing the new stadium right now.”

An event that started with zero home runs—hardly living up to the name “Home Run Derby”—came dangerously close to proving the old saying about a famous feast with nothing to eat. Fortunately—

“Lee Dae-beom! Suwon’s power hitter records five home runs and takes the lead!”

“The Gamers’ Jose! Seven home runs! I’m the 2024 home run king! He blows past Lee Dae-beom’s five and claims first place!”

“Kim Jae-sang! The power hitter representing Busan—no, all of Korea—draws eight beautiful arcs!”

The right-handed hitters who followed put on a show and gave the fans something to cheer about. And finally—

“The last batter steps into the box. The best hitter in the league. The man who launched a staggering thirty-four home runs in the first half alone—not a home run hitter, but the first-half home run king—Rhinos’ Gong Ji-hoo.”

“How many will lefty Gong Ji-hoo manage to clear? Looking forward to it.”

The final batter, Gong Ji-hoo, took his stance.

“The batting-practice pitcher who will work with Gong Ji-hoo is coming out. Wait…”

“Ah…”

A man in a Wolves uniform appeared as the BP pitcher.

“A truly unexpected figure steps in as batting-practice pitcher! The former ace of the Wolves—Fletcher! He’s back in the KBO!”

“Over a decade ago he won twenty games, shone in the Korean Series, and reigned as the best pitcher of his time. A name that brings back memories for baseball fans. But…”

The question on the minds of the booth and every baseball fan suddenly thrown into a nostalgia trip:

“What kind of combination is Fletcher and Gong Ji-hoo?”

A former foreign ace who once dominated the league for the Wolves, and a rising Rhinos hitter currently bombing the league. What on earth connected the two?

The answer came from a Rhinos staff member.

“Uh… they say they’re close.”

“Yes. They certainly look close.”

“Apparently Gong Ji-hoo has known him since before he even started playing baseball… as the owner of a burger shop?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what the Rhinos official told us directly. Even the Rhinos had no idea it was Fletcher. Looks like this was Gong Ji-hoo’s little surprise.”

CRAAACK!!

CRAAACK!!

Balls cleared the wall so easily it almost felt wasteful to call them practice swings. The burger-shop owner and the orphan who had just shocked everyone casually showed off their chemistry.

“Yes. It’s a bit disorienting, but practice is over. Gong Ji-hoo’s real round begins now.”

“He cleared the wall with ease even in practice. Looking forward to the actual numbers.”

Whoosh!!

Fletcher’s first pitch—

Huh?

Crack!!

—broke late in the zone and snapped Gong Ji-hoo’s bat clean in half.

“Even ten years after retirement, Fletcher still shows a devastating cutter! He breaks Gong Ji-hoo’s bat and records an out!”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be a home run derby?”

Grinning, Fletcher pointed a finger at Gong Ji-hoo and said something that the broadcast cameras caught.

“Haa…”

Gong Ji-hoo let out a sigh, grabbed a new bat, and made up his mind.

You want a real fight? Looks like this old man never got a proper retirement ceremony and decided today was the day.

He would give the uncle he respected a spectacular retirement ceremony.