The Pitcher Just Hits Home Runs Well [EN]: Chapter 387

387. Side Story 3) How Did He Become a Major Leaguer? (3)

A “minor league refusal right” is a somewhat misleading term.

It’s similar to how the three minor league options a team has for players drafted into the Major Leagues naturally expire after they accrue five or more years of Major League service time. It’s not about creating a *right* to refuse a minor league assignment, but rather limiting the team’s ability to exercise those minor league options through a special contract clause.

Why is this important? Because this minor league refusal right means that a spot on the 26-man Major League roster isn’t unconditionally guaranteed for the life of the contract.

While the specific rules can be complex, the key point is that Jo Yu-jin currently has the right to refuse a minor league assignment due to a special clause in his contract. So, even if he clears waivers [meaning no other team claims him], he can’t be forced to go to the minors. The Phillies are essentially offering him a choice: accept a demotion to the minors, or be unconditionally released with his remaining salary guaranteed.

Of course, another team could claim him off waivers, allowing him to stay on a 26-man roster. However, the odds of a team wanting to take on a catcher currently batting .137/.152/.237 with a two-year, $7.5 million contract are incredibly slim. Even if he’s released, it’s unlikely any team would take a chance on him.

Even if a team *did* take a chance, it was obvious where he’d have a better shot at getting called up: with other teams trying to sign him for the league minimum salary, or with the Philadelphia Phillies, who were still obligated to pay him $7.5 million over two years.

“Yu-jin, don’t be so down on yourself. $7.5 million isn’t a *huge* amount of money, sure. But it’s definitely not pocket change, either. If you show you’re still competitive in the minors, that money makes you the frontrunner for a call-up.”

Looking back, I wonder if they were just being polite, but at the time, it felt like the only glimmer of hope in a completely hopeless situation.

“I understand. I’ll go to the minors.”

A famous writer once said:

‘He who has not eaten bread with tears knows not the true meaning of life.’

In that sense, Jo Yu-jin thought he definitely knew the true meaning of life.

But he didn’t. Looking back, he’d never really eaten bread with tears. He always felt like he had struggled and worked hard, but he had a solid amateur career and even won championships. With decent talent, he got drafted and even made the professional first team in his rookie year, reaching free agency [FA] at the young age of 27.

32 years old.

Jo Yu-jin was finally starting to understand the true meaning of life.

Since it was only a two-year contract, he hadn’t brought his wife and child to the United States. He planned to test the waters for a year and bring them over if things looked promising.

It wasn’t the right choice. He missed his wife and child constantly.

The level of play in the minors wasn’t low; it was actually higher than the KBO [Korean Baseball Organization]. Especially the pitching. All the starting pitchers seemed to be on par with a KBO team’s number two starter. Some were even top-tier talents, and I wondered why they were in the minors instead of the majors.

He figured his decline in the big leagues was due to focusing too much on increasing his slugging percentage at the expense of making contact. He’d achieved a career high in slugging in the KBO, but he felt it was impossible in the United States, where the pitching was so much better. *Let’s go back to basics. Let’s focus on making contact.*

.262/.303/.295.

That was his batting line for a month and a half after being sent down to the minors.

Looking at the numbers alone, it might seem like he’d improved slightly.

But he hadn’t. Even though the International League [IL] was supposedly more pitcher-friendly than the Pacific Coast League [PCL], the league average OPS [On-Base Plus Slugging] was .787. No matter how good a catcher he was, an OPS below .6 was a problem.

His homesickness grew stronger.

But he gritted his teeth. He’d put in so much effort to get here. He couldn’t fall apart now.

His performance gradually started to improve.

He had more multi-hit games, and finally, by the end of August, his batting line had risen to .297/.323/.330.

*’$7.5 million is not a small amount of money. With similar performance, it’s definitely an amount that would make you the first in line for a call-up.’*

Jo Yu-jin believed those words and waited for the expanded roster in September [when teams are allowed to expand their rosters from 26 to 40 players].

“Jo Yu, you idiot. Who in their right mind would add *another* catcher to the expanded roster? One pitcher spot is obviously guaranteed. And the other spot is for a hitter or a versatile utility player.”

Looking back, it was obvious, but why hadn’t he thought of it at the time?

The burning desire fizzled out.

Choi Soo-won, on the other side of the unfolded smartphone screen, said to him.

“Honestly, I don’t really understand loser emotions, so I’m not good at giving advice on this kind of thing. But I’ve played in the big leagues for a long time. You never know when you’ll get called up. Especially the catcher position at the end of the season. Don’t lose your motivation with that ‘the world is over’ look on your face. Keep pushing until the end. Well, you never listen to me anyway.”

“You’re consistently annoying no matter how old you get. And what do you mean I don’t listen to you? Who else listens to you as well as I do?”

“I told you not to do that. That slap-hitting thing has no future. Just stick to what you were doing and power through.”

“No, that’s…”

“I thought that three-stage separation thing was resolved [referring to a past issue]. Ugh. Anyway, don’t give up. Honestly, the fact that you’re doing this in America is a much bigger miracle than me winning MVP. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. Me stepping into the majors is a bigger miracle than our great Choi Soo-won winning MVP four times, right?”

“Ugh, you little punk. You really don’t know anything. Anyway, since you’ve abandoned your wife and kids, give it your best shot until the end.”

“No, who said I abandoned them? I’m really holding back tears…”

“Hey, I’m getting a call. It’s an important call, so let’s hang up.”

“…holding back tears…”

A photo of his child and wife wearing matching outfits and smiling brightly appeared on the smartphone’s background screen after the call ended.

“Damn it…”

The desire to return to Korea immediately surged.

And he used that feeling as a driving force to dedicate himself to baseball again.

September passed.

October.

And the final, 162nd game of the season.

There was no miracle.

Jo Yu-jin was not called up to the majors, and his first year in the major leagues ended like that.

─Jo Yu-jin’s strong determination!! “Return to Korea? I’m not thinking about it. I’m determined to show something next year.”

─Jo Yu-jin is training with the Marlins at their spring training camp!! Unlike last year, he will join spring training as a non-roster invitee [meaning he’s not guaranteed a spot on the team]!!

─Choi Soo-won “It’s not an easy path. But if it’s Jo Yu-jin that I know, he can do it.”

He not only didn’t return to Korea, but he even stopped his wife from bringing the child to visit. He felt that the moment he held his child’s warm body in his arms, he would want to give up on the challenge and return to Korea with them.

Lee Jung-hoon, who had given up all his successful broadcasting work and taken a position as a Marlins coach, said to him before returning to Korea after finishing the American spring training, “Hey, if it doesn’t seem like it’s going to work out, just call me. I’ve already talked to the club, so you can get a 4-year, 7.5 billion won deal if you come back.”

“I’m not going back. And even if I do, I’m going to a Seoul team. I’m going to send our Da-bin to a private elementary school in Gangnam [an affluent district in Seoul].”

“Don’t you know how expensive that is? You’ll have to save every penny to send him there.”

“I have a lot of money, you know? And I received a 4-year, 10 billion won offer from a metropolitan team before I came here.”

“Hey, that’s because you were in the majors!! Ugh… Anyway, do your best. You’ve been singing about the majors every day since we watched the World Series together 10 years ago.”

Yes. Jo Yu-jin realized anew. His time here wasn’t suffering. This was the path to the dream he had been dreaming.

“Hyung [older brother/close friend], be honest. You’ve been appointed as the manager, haven’t you? That’s why you’re doing this now because you think I’ll be screwed if I go back to Korea and go to another team.”

“No, you idiot. What do you take me for!! I’m purely doing this out of a desire to see my close younger brother succeed.”

After the Marlins, who had come to the United States for their first spring training, returned, Jo Yu-jin joined the Phillies’ spring training almost immediately. Because he was a catcher, he had to join a few days earlier than the fielders.

“…”

And there, he could once again feel that his situation had become a mess. Last year, he had come to spring training with a two-year, $7.5 million major league contract and had been assigned a very nice locker. But this year, as a non-roster invitee, he was assigned a half-sized locker to share with a rookie who was just twenty-two years old.

He finished the training, which was more mentally than physically demanding, and returned to his accommodation.

But was he too tired? He was seeing things. He blinked his eyes several times and, not satisfied with that, pressed his eyes several times with his palms and looked again.

“Dad!!!!!”

It wasn’t a hallucination. His child, who seemed to have grown 10 centimeters compared to a year ago, ran and hugged him tightly.

The pleasant smell and warmth of his child.

Jo Yu-jin felt tears welling up in his eyes without realizing it.

“Honey, you’ve worked hard.”

“No, what are you doing here? I told you not to come.”

“No, you didn’t tell me not to come, you told me not to come to *visit*.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve unpacked the luggage at the house in Philadelphia. Originally, I was planning to come on time, but the visa came out a little earlier, and Da-bin kept singing that he wanted to see his dad. I thought it would be easier to get a visa all at once than to come to Eastar [likely a reference to a specific process or location in Korea] and do this and that, so I tried it, and it was said to be difficult on the internet, but it came out surprisingly easily. I guess it’s because he’s a major leaguer.”

*No, I definitely told her not to come to visit, but logically, doesn’t that mean she should stay in Korea?*

While Jo Yu-jin was stammering, she grabbed his arm.

“Come in. I’ve prepared dinner.”

“No, that’s…”

“You said so. You said you’d try it alone for a year. And let’s decide. I told you to just go together, but. Anyway, I conceded then, so it’s your turn this time.”

The home-cooked meal after a long time was really delicious.

Enough to completely dispel a very long bout of homesickness.

Of course, miracles weren’t easy. He didn’t start the season in the majors, and his wife and child had to pack up the luggage they had unpacked at the house in Philadelphia and move it to Allentown in the north [where the Phillies’ Triple-A affiliate is located].

April, May, and June.

His heart wavered.

*’Regret? No way. I burned it all completely. At least I won’t regret not trying hard enough.’*

And every time, Ahn Byung-young’s bittersweet expression came to mind.

*Yes, at least let’s not create a situation where we regret not trying hard enough.*

He did his best.

And July. That is, exactly one year and three days after being sent down to the minors.

Finally, the opportunity came to him.

“Yu-jin, you’re called up.”

“Yes.”

He was lucky.

It was a home game, not an away game, so he could show his child and wife him playing in the major leagues.