Choi Seungtaek's Blunder: A Rookie's Rookie Mistake and a Heated Locker Room Reckoning
The words hit like a gut punch. "Choi Seungtaek, you’re in deep shit now."
They popped up across every platform—broadcast feeds, social feeds, even the comment sections where baseball die-hards were losing their minds. The clip had already gone mega-viral. The moment Choi Seungtaek smashed that first pitch from Kang Taepoong, the rookie’s bat flew out of his hands in pure shock. Then came the victory fist pump, followed by the stunned freeze at first base when he realized he’d been tagged out. And in the background, Kang Taepoong doubled over laughing so hard his glove nearly flew off.
"Argh! This is so embarrassing!"
Choi Seungtaek winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m good. Just… get up and run in!"
Tae Pyung-yang, the veteran captain at second, clapped him on the shoulder. "You okay? That was rough."
His head spun like he’d been beaned. The Falcons’ dugout was erupting in cheers while Kang Taepoong stayed frozen on the mound, still chuckling. Every teammate knew exactly how bad it felt. Choi Seungtaek pushed through the fire in his face and trudged into the dugout, boots heavy.
The rest of the Magpies sat there, stunned. They wanted to pat him on the back but couldn’t find the right words—praise felt wrong, blame felt worse. Hwang Ganggyeong finally exploded.
"Sigh… you idiot. You’ve got everything coming up roses. That’s actually kind of cool. You all know how I feel."
"Ugh… Hyung, I seriously want to die."
"Who told you to do that ceremony first? Anyone watching would’ve thought you hit a grand slam."
He wanted to tear his hair out. Hwang Ganggyeong just waved him off.
"Stay still. Stop pulling at that pathetic head."
"Ugh… this is too much."
"But they were straight-up staring at you. Do you know anything?"
Choi Seungtaek went quiet for a second, mind racing. Yeah! I laughed too, didn’t I? Now I’ve got to flood their kuse with info and fry that kid. Time to turn pro—eat shit, Taepoong.
"I know a little about his tell."
"His tell?"
The older players clustered around him, eyes wide.
"Tell? What the hell is that?"
Choi Seungtaek took a breath and explained slowly. "Taepoong had one before, you know."
"What?"
"It was his index finger. You guys remember how he twitched it."
"Was that the tell? Didn’t seem like it."
"Listen properly! It was! Before!"
He tried to shut them up, but the words kept spilling out.
"I told you guys, so when he came to the pros he got rid of it. But today… a new one popped up."
Everyone leaned in. The camera in the dugout captured every move.
"Should we cover up while I show?"
"Whoa, everyone huddle up!"
The players formed a human wall. Choi Seungtaek tried to strike a perfect pose, but the risk of exposure made them all shove him back into the pile.
"They’ll think you’re messing with the broadcast crew."
"Haha… yeah."
Kim Ha-eun’s words hadn’t been meant to sting, but Choi Seungtaek’s face still twisted into a pained grin.
"Got it. Seungtaek! Sorry, I won’t mess with you. Just tell me quick—I’ve got to step up soon."
Hwang Ganggyeong, batting lower in the order, pulled him aside.
"Watch this. Watch how his glove flares up. That’s the change-up!"
Choi Seungtaek mimicked the tiny crouch Kang Taepoong had used.
"But there’s no movement at all! So fastball!"
"What was he throwing?"
"Curve and slider. Nothing else."
"Any other changes?"
"No. Right now he’s probably just trying to nail his location. If you can’t spot that tiny difference, just hammer it with fastballs."
Choi Seungtaek scanned the scouting sheet. "I’ve got him."
The Magpies dugout exploded. Their eyes burned with fire.
Strikeout on the first pitch.
"Argh!"
But the third batter, Gwan Yonggwon, struck out too, forcing a pitching change.
* * *
Choi Seungtaek decided right then that the most embarrassing moment of his entire life had happened ten minutes ago. If only he could ask the System for a rewind. Just ten minutes. Back to the dugout. The screen stayed blank. No quest, no level up, nothing. He stared at the phone, the reality crushing him. The Falcons were still trash-talking him at the plate.
"He went to the same high school, right? Ceremony was on point. Taepoong loved it."
Sit-fal.
They took turns poking him. "Thanks for the nice shot." "Too bad you didn’t score." "Haha… yeah."
[Fastball, inside]
Choi Seungtaek met it right away. Crack.
But he knew they’d throw it again, so he waited a beat. The runner scored on a wild throw. They’re trying to bait me.
He shook his head, refocused. Another Falcon stepped up.
"Hey, our stud! Ceremony was great. Today’s highlight reel material—congrats! I hope you get the win, but real friends stay friends. Seriously, congratulations."
I want to die.
The trash-talk got heavier, but he had to swing. He called the shift.
Lefty batter. Push it this way.
Players flooded toward the right side. Choi Seungtaek signaled Russell for a fastball. Russell nodded.
The runner took off. The second baseman, now playing short, was perfectly positioned. Choi Seungtaek stayed calm.
Whoosh.
Thud.
Strike.
Gwan Yonggwon sprinted to second. Choi Seungtaek threw from his squat—exactly the sit-and-throw form he’d drilled with Jo Oosoo. The ball whistled toward the bag. Russell dove to avoid it. Gwan Yonggwon caught it clean and tagged the runner out.
Out!
"Yes!"
"Good! Nice! Choi!"
Russell jumped up, pumped his fist, and pointed straight at him. Choi Seungtaek flashed a thumbs-up, satisfied. It worked. The practice paid off.
"Whoa! Choi Seungtaek just took a perfect sit-and-throw from Jo Oosoo."
The announcer was breathless. "He’s a monster. Look at that pop time—1.84 seconds flat. The Falcons’ lead-off guy, Min Heonbyeong, is a speed demon. He took the shift weakness and got picked off in a heartbeat."
The Falcons dugout was stunned.
"A rookie just threw like that?"
The Falcons’ manager looked shell-shocked. The shift had been their perfect counter. A rookie catcher had turned it into a disaster. "Still, great job. How do you do that?"
"Yeah… the signals alone are tough."
* * *
Luckily the Magpies won. Russell’s low, electric fastballs plus Choi Seungtaek’s shift defense kept the Falcons off the board. Kang Taepoong was pulled after he let three hits through his ears. The game ended in a Magpies victory, but Choi Seungtaek had only one single in five at-bats. Disappointing, but the win mattered.
He gritted his teeth in the locker room. The phone buzzed again.
Park Gayoung: Seungtaek-ah! Your name hit the news! Congratulations! You really played great today!
It was warm, almost too warm after the other messages. Then the flood came.
Kim Min-jae: Idiot lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol
Bangmani: You good? Haha haha haha lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol lol. Too funny. Sorry!
The high-school crew was roasting him in unison. The biggest problem was that the game had been televised live, and the internet was eating it alive.
One headline after another: "Choi Seungtaek’s Rookie Ceremony Disaster!" Fans were losing it.
Choi Seungtaek dropped the phone and stared at the ceiling. He needed a moment to breathe. When the fog cleared, the System notification flashed again.
All teams are actively running detailed performance analysis on you.
"No… nothing’s working."
His defense had been that impressive. Every organization was rewriting his profile now. Choi Seungtaek sat there feeling like the worst day of his life.
Then Hwang Ganggyeong came back to taunt him.
"Congratulations, Seungtaek! You’re number one on the trending list. I can’t even go online—congrats!"
"Argh!"
His sanity snapped. But catchers stay cool. Whatever. This actually helps the team!
"Hyung, I think I should talk to the manager."
"Manager? Oh, right."
Yeah, probably. The ceremony might have pissed him off. Better go now.
Choi Seungtaek marched straight to Manager Han Geunseong’s office. Hwang Ganggyeong followed quietly behind, watching.
"Manager!"
"…Why are you here?"
"Sorry, Manager. I did that stupid ceremony today. I came to apologize."
"…Fine. You’ve learned a lot. I almost chewed you out, but you came on your own. Good."
"Thank you, Manager."
But he hadn’t come to apologize.
"Manager, there’s one more thing. The training schedule needs adjusting."
"Training?"
"The shift worked perfectly. We could’ve made easy outs, but I messed up the basics and gave them runs."
Han Geunseong nodded, clearly irritated. "Exactly. So no more extra hitting. Fungo balls it is."
Hwang Ganggyeong’s face hardened behind him.
That bastard Choi Seungtaek…
Choi Seungtaek just smiled quietly, knowing the System had given him another chance. The day wasn’t over yet.