Right-Handed Power Hitter Gong Ji-hoo
The All-Star Game is an exhibition match, so winning or losing isn't what matters.
It's a baseball festival where no one gets hurt.
Of course.
That doesn't mean the players are half-assing it.
Even though it's a popularity vote—or rather, precisely because it is—being an All-Star is an honor. And there's prize money, too.
The All-Star Game MVP, known as Mister All-Star, takes home ten million won. The winning manager, outstanding fielder, outstanding pitcher, outstanding hitter, and best performance awards each get three million. They really don't hold back.
People see headlines about the "hundred-billion-won free agency era" and assume every baseball player is rich. But just like most freelancers, the wealth gap among ballplayers is enormous.
The average KBO salary is actually lower than the average K League salary, you know? Even I was barely cracking thirty million last year. One good All-Star Game performance could drop a third of my annual salary right into my pocket.
Still, not every player is gunning for Mister All-Star. Plenty care more about their performance than their stats. Jang Tae-wook, for example.
Jang Tae-wook made the All-Star roster on a manager's recommendation. He was dying of curiosity about the performance I'd prepared, yet he guarded his own like a state secret. I wasn't even that interested.
Anyway.
That's the All-Star Game for you—where performance matters more than the game itself, and laughter matters more than victory. The Dream Team lineup put together by Wizards manager Kim Tae-sik looked like this:
"There's no way we lose with this lineup."
"I feel bad saying it about the other team, but… yeah."
1. SS Park Ji-han
2. 3B Gong Ji-hoo
3. C Kim Jae-sang
4. 1B Lee Dae-beom
5. RF Garcia
6. DH Song Han-su
From the leadoff hitter through the sixth, every one of them was a slugger who could easily clear twenty home runs in a season. The bottom of the order, starting with the Stars' center fielder filling in for the injured Jeong Su-hyun, was packed with guys who used elite speed and contact skills to torment opposing pitchers. The best of them, of course, was the ninth hitter, An Sung-woo.
Speaking of which.
"Sung-woo's locked into the nine-hole now, huh? He's batting ninth for the Wizards too, right?"
"The manager likes it that way. Sung-woo says he feels more comfortable there too."
It had been a while since I'd shot the breeze with Park Ji-han in a dugout.
"Pitchers must hate that. He's basically another leadoff guy."
"I like it too. When I come up after Sung-woo, I get better pitches."
I knew exactly why.
"Looks like you scored yourself a nice little table-setter. Congrats, Ji-han."
"Huh? Not sure what you mean, but thanks."
"Ji-hoo, blue blood already runs through your veins. Don't tell me you're homesick for the Wizards."
Jang Tae-wook, my personal table-setter, slid into the conversation as naturally as breathing, clapped me on the shoulder, and dropped into the seat beside me.
"Hello, hyung-nim."
"Ji-han, long time. Congrats on finishing first in the All-Star voting."
"Thank you."
"If it weren't for Ji-hoo… that first place would've been mine."
"Haha. Well, I really wanted to finish first at least once."
The vibe's… better than I expected?
"First place, huh… Yeah. Guys like us can't help craving that top spot."
Guys like us?
"The shortstop number-one slot always belonged to Ryu Hyun-seo."
"Ah."
They shared the same scar: both had been victims of Ryu Hyun-seo.
Except.
"I've never finished first in All-Star voting even once."
The Dream All-Stars shortstop slot had always belonged to the Rhinos' franchise star, Jang Tae-wook.
"Haha. You won this year, so that counts, right? …Hey, Ji-han."
"Yes?"
The two shortstops had already left me behind and were deep in their own conversation. The senior shortstop who'd just lost the top spot turned to his junior with a question.
"What's with the hair?"
Park Ji-han's hair, completely at odds with his mild personality, was dyed a blazing red.
[The 2025 KBO All-Star Game is underway! Top of the first. Leading off for the Dream All-Stars is the Wizards' Park Ji-han.]
[Park Ji-han has never once looked bad since his debut, but this season his potential has truly exploded.]
[There's a reason fans call shortstops "No-Ryu Park King"—if Ryu Hyun-seo isn't around, Park Ji-han is the king.]
Park Ji-han stepped into the box looking, at first glance, no different from usual. And then—
[Park Ji-han steps in and takes off his helmet. Oh! His hair is red! Bright red!]
[A special hairstyle just for the All-Star Game, maybe? Hahaha.]
He flashed the eye-catching crimson hair for the cameras, then settled into his stance. The broadcast booth immediately thought of one man.
[Ah… Ryu Hyun-seo.]
[Ryu Hyun-seo?]
[It's the exact same hair color as Ryu Hyun-seo, who's been tearing it up in Cincinnati this season.]
[Right! Ryu Hyun-seo showed up to his introductory press conference with red hair and completely won over the Cincinnati fans.]
[Park Ji-han already has a swing that looks a lot like Ryu's, but seeing him like this… he really is identical.]
[Haha. Irons fans, don't get confused. The man in the box right now is the Wizards' Park Ji-han.]
Park Ji-han laid off a breaking ball that dropped out of the zone. He even copied Ryu Hyun-seo's little habits as he worked the at-bat.
Park Ji-han, who had just gifted Irons fans a wave of nostalgia and Swallows fans a migraine, lifted a low breaking ball and ripped a double.
And then—
[Now batting second, Gong Ji-hoo. Despite all the talk about how hard he prepared, he's walking to the plate looking completely ordinary… wait?!]
Second hitter Gong Ji-hoo's turn.
[Gong Ji-hoo is… Gong Ji-hoo just stepped into the right-handed batter's box!]
Right-handed power hitter Gong Ji-hoo had entered the box.
While prepping for the All-Star Game, I spent a lot of time deciding what kind of performance to put on. After all, regressor Gong Ji-hoo is an attention whore.
More precisely, I'd always had a bit of that streak in me. It just got beaten out of me during my long years as a Minor League Yeopo.
At first I thought about cosplaying as Lü Bu, since that was my nickname. But—
Too one-dimensional.
If you asked fans what Gong Ji-hoo's All-Star performance would be, nine out of ten would say Lü Bu cosplay. So instead—
Right-handed power hitter Gong Ji-hoo was born.
"Good work out there~"
"You're seriously… standing in the right-handed box?"
Irons catcher Han Seong-gon couldn't hide the shock in his voice.
"Yes, sir. Today I am right-handed power hitter Gong Ji-hoo."
Baseball fans, oddly enough, have a deep romantic attachment to right-handed power hitters. I'm not entirely sure why.
Left-handers have an advantage in baseball. That's not just an old wives' tale—it's fact. Which is why plenty of right-handed kids get raised as lefty hitters from a young age.
Maybe that's where the romance of the righty slugger comes from.
I'm a lefty hitter myself, so you could call me one of those "manufactured lefties." But there's a clear difference between me and the others. I'm ambidextrous to begin with.
When I first started playing, everyone said lefty hitters were better, so I became one.
And standing in the right-handed box isn't even unfamiliar to me. There was a time I seriously considered becoming a switch-hitter and actually tried it.
I think it was the first season I hit .400 in the minors. Back then I still had some confidence—real confidence that I could finally show something in the majors.
Then I got called up again. That confidence got absolutely obliterated. Still—
Back then I still had the fire to experiment and research my way back to the first team. I hadn't burned out on baseball the way I would by the time I retired before the regression. So I tried switch-hitting.
The reason I'd struggled in the majors was that my vaunted plate discipline had fallen apart, and I thought switch-hitting might be the way to save it.
In the end it didn't mean much. My plate discipline had crumbled under pressure, nothing more.
Anyway, that's why I can stand in the right-handed box without looking completely lost, even if I'm not perfectly comfortable.
"Hoo…"
A deep breath.
"I have no idea what you're doing."
Right-handed power hitter Gong Ji-hoo side-eyed Han Seong-gon shaking his head and locked onto the pitcher on the mound.
Today's me was the complete opposite of everyday me. And it wasn't just about which side of the plate I stood on.
Whoosh!!
A pitch dropping out of the zone.
Whoooosh!!
I took a massive cut at it. An absurdly free-swinging whiff.
"Huh… Gong Ji-hoo just swung and missed?"
Han Seong-gon spent the entire at-bat looking flabbergasted.
This is the romance.
Today I planned to fully satisfy the fans' fantasies. Left-handed Gong Ji-hoo valued getting on base and making solid contact. Right-handed power hitter Gong Ji-hoo hunted only home runs.
"Hmm."
A righty slugger doesn't flinch at a swing-and-miss. He just pays it back with a homer.
Whoosh!!
Another breaking ball diving out of the zone.
Whoooosh!!
Another huge swing that found nothing but air.
I wasn't disappointed. All I had to do was clear the fence.
Boldness and shamelessness. Those, in my opinion, are the essential ingredients of a home-run hitter.
Whoosh!!
The exact same pitch, same location again.
You dare look down on me?
Home-run hitters are walking ego. Purely subjective opinion, of course. But—
Whether it's right-handed power hitter Gong Ji-hoo or left-handed Gong Ji-hoo, if you throw the same breaking ball to the same spot three times in a row—
CRAAAAACK!!!!
—I will never miss it. Right-handed power hitter Gong Ji-hoo is a home-run hitter, not an idiot.
The crack of the bat was enormous, and the ball vanished at light speed. No one in the stadium could track where it went. How could they, when it had already left the ballpark?
"Hmm!"
I rounded the bases with zero ceremony, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. To a home-run hitter, a home run is just another day at the office.
My All-Star-only right-handed power hitter home run, followed immediately by real right-handed power hitter Kim Jae-sang's back-to-back shot. The rest of the lineup put on a hitting clinic of their own. Top of the first, the Dream All-Stars put up a five-run big inning.
Then came the bottom of the first.
Thwack!!
The pitcher warming up on the mound had his mouth covered by a mask with a big X drawn across it. It was Do Jeong-hoo, the Wolves' ace and the national team's number-one starter.
Doesn't that feel stuffy?
I'd heard the Wolves players had put the mask on him as a way of saying "Do Jeong-hoo, shut up and just throw the ball." Knowing Do Jeong-hoo, who was an even bigger attention whore than me, he probably loved it. It definitely made him stand out.
A smirk.
Then, after finishing his warm-up tosses, Do Jeong-hoo pulled the mask down and grinned straight at me.
Kim Jae-sang, catching, stood up behind the plate, flipped his mask up, and gave me a thumbs-up.
What… what is this?
"Ji-hoo! Today we're making you the star of the show!"
Kim Jae-sang's shout. And then—
"Fungo time starts now."
Do Jeong-hoo's one-liner.
"Ah."
I was suddenly very sure this inning was not going to end quietly.